Summers Home For Wayward Witches, Semi-Recovered Mostly Alive People, And Characters That Used To Have Purpose But Now Get In The Way A Whole Lot. Willow comes in through the front door, and Amy cautiously peeks her head out of the kitchen. She's very edgy. At first, I thought that it was some lingering nervousness from being a rat, but she immediately encourages Willow to go party with her, which makes me think that Amy is high. And not on life. Willow wonders if perhaps Amy should call on her dad and let him know that she's okay, but Amy puts the kibosh on that plan, because this is Sunnydale and good father-daughter relationships will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Y'know, I wonder if Joss's dad ever watches this show and then calls his son to maybe try to get him to open up about his father abandonment issues. I can just see him leaving rambling, drunken messages on Joss's machine saying things like, "Boy. I always did love you and tried to do right by you. I didn't mean to leave you to fend for yourself on the island with the bad teeth and the treacle. I gave you the best that I had." I could go on, but it's probably libel at this point. So. Amy. She's up for "anything not involving a big wheel." Which is just so sad, because I remember how much joy my Big Wheel brought me. I used to put Bert and Ernie in the back and go tearing down the sidewalk. Happy as a clam. (You ever see a mopey clam?) Until the day I saw the Green Machine and my world expanded. Suddenly the sedate pace of my Big Wheel was just a tad too pedestrian. It was too babyish with its primary colors and actual handlebars. Plus you couldn't spin out anywhere near as well. To this day, every time I'm driving, I'm tempted to just yank up the parking brake. What's my point? Oh, yes. Big Wheels are good, and I think that many of the Buffyverse's problems could be solved by a little Big Wheel therapy. I wish I had an adult-sized one now. Willow seems reluctant to go out at first, but then easily gives in to Amy's blatant manipulations, to wit: "Or maybe you'd rather sit home all night. Alone. Like in high school." For some reason, Willow doesn't remember that she didn't spend a whole lot of time sitting home alone in high school. Granted, she spent a large amount of time in the library with a bunch of other outcasts that nobody wanted anything to do with. But that's not the point.
Basement. Warren inspects Spike's chip. Without opening Spike's head to do so. I mentioned this in annoyance to Ace, but she shut me up with, "They have an ice freezing ray, Sep. The rules are different for them." Which nicely sums up most of my problems with this entire arc. Get your Science out of my Horror/Fantasy/Drama/Comedy about perky California teenagers who rid the world of unspeakable evil, please! There's just a little too much fiction in that science, if ya know what I mean. Later, Spike is waiting while the rest of the Legion of Dim tries to make small talk with Spike. After a moment of Andrew's nattering on about Red Dwarf, Spike screeches for Warren to hurry the frelling heck up already. Warren rushes out and hands Spike a print-out. He gives it a cursory glance before handing it back, saying, "Help me out here, Spock. I don't speak loser." Warren sums it up for him, as I will here for you. Everything? Functional. Spike takes off, gleefully muttering. "Nothing wrong with me. Something wrong with her."