InsaneJournal

Spike (

[ There's something vaguely familiar about what's happening today, even if Spike can't quite put his finger on what it is. It's almost as if he'll be struck with a similar musical curse back home in the not to distant future, except it hasn't happened yet and he only remembers it from other, weird happenings here.

Anyway. He goes about his day the best he can, spending most of the afternoon well into evening at the Blood Shack, working a long shift and idly wondering how long he'll be able to stand having bots around before he gives in and takes over the place himself. Not the kind of responsibility he's looking for but anything has to be better than this. At least he can waste some time chatting with customers. ]

((ooc: Spike will talk entirely in song lyrics from Sex Pistols and the Ramones. If you're familiar with punk music, you'll see why this may be, uh. Interesting. ))

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