[The sun sets outside the Ho!Mart as the ever glittery salesboys discuss the not-so private lives of their customers. Lukie is still wondering what it's like to climb a Jinn. The other salesboy, mysteriously still unnamed and looking more and more like Brian Slade every day, looks up as the door bursts open.]

Spike: Bloody fucking hell! I'm never going anywhere with you again via intergalactic porthole. ::glares::

Angel: It wasn't so bad. ::looks vaguely guilty::

Spike: This place has not one, but two suns. Two. I'd have Kentucky Fried Sire if we arrived a minute sooner.

Angel: ::looks stricken::

Spike: Aw, hell, you stupid wanker, don't pout. ::tugs Angel closer:: What did you want to show me?

Angel: Come. ::walks to back of store:: Hello, boys. ::smiles at salesboys::

Salesboys: Aaaaaaangel.... ::smile back::

Angel: Has my order arrived?

Lukie: Yes, sir! ::flutters eyelashes::

Spike: Order? Order of what?

Angel: You'll see. ::looks at Other Sales boy:: Take my Childe to the dressing room. ::grins at Lukie:: You can stay with me.

Spike: ::widens eyes as OS leads him to dressing room, two boxes and a small bottle in tow:: And you keep your hands off the blond bitch! ::glares back at Angel::

Angel: ::smiles indulgently:: He's just nervous. ::sits down and pets Lukie::

[Sound of muffled shout from dressing room followed by a squeal. Salesboy scurries out, tosses Angel the empty bottle and Spike's clothing.]

Angel: ::thoughtful sigh as he holds up shimmery gold binki briefs:: I didn't know he had those on today.

Spike: ::prowls out clad in very tight, orange flight suit. high on the man!cleavage factor with chest covered in glittery oil::

Angel: ::drools::

Spike: I'm not wearing this.

Angel: Oohh.. yes you are... And very well..

Spike: ::growls:: I look like a fucker from a wank film! And not an expensive, high budget one, mind.

Angel: ::reaches out to stroke Spike:: Oh, no... Not at all. Well, maybe a little. ::yanks Spike close before he can get away:: Let's go.

Spike: Go? Where on this planet sized sandbox are going to go?

Angel: The local den of iniquity.

Spike: Right. Great. An evening with this poufter and I have to be ponced up to look like an even bigger pouf.

Angel: It has a dungeon... ::grabs Spike's ass::

Spike: Blood? ::looks interested::

Angel: All you can drink.

Spike: Good night, boys! ::leers at salesboys as the two vamps exit::

Lukie: ::wistful sigh:: I hope they take pictures.

OS: MMm... next time they can send holos with the order.

The [glittery] End.

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