Season One
In The Dark
here follows the funniest piece of dialogue ever...
"How can I thank you, you mysterious black-clad-hunk-of-a-knight-thing?"
"No need little lady. Your tears of gratitude are enough for me. You see, I was once a bad-ass vampire. But love, and a pesky curse, defanged me. And now, I'm just a *big* fluffy puppy with bad teeth. No! Not the hair! Never the hair."
"But there must be some way I can show my appreciation."
"No, helping those in need's my job. And working up a load of sexual tension and prancing away like a magnificent poof is truly thanks enough."
"I understand. I have a nephew who's gay, so..."
"Say no more. Evil's still afoot. And I'm almost out of that Nancy-boy hair gel I like so much. Quickly! To the Angel-mobile! Away!"
Go on with you. Play the big strapping hero while you can. You have a few surprises coming your way: the Ring of Amarra, a visit from our old pal Spike, and--oh yeah--your gruesome, horrible death.
Angel: Might as well go home, Spike. The Gem of Amarra stays with me.
Spike: Why? Cuz you're Angel, Vamp Detective now? Ooo. I'm so scared. What's next? Vampire cowboy? Vampire fireman? Oh! Vampire ballerina!
Angel: I do like to work with my legs.
Angel: So, you and I duke it out, huh. This your big strategy for getting the ring back?
Spike: I had a plan.
Angel: You? A plan?
Spike: A good plan. Carefully laid out. But I got bored. All that watching, waiting. My legs started to cramp. I hate to quip. Just tell me where the damn ring is.
Angel: It wouldn't go with your outfit.
Spike: Cordelia. You look smashing. You lose weight?
Cordelia: Yes! You know, there's this great gym on.... hey!
Did anyone ever tell you you're a hell of a buzz kill, mate?
Spike: You caught me fair and square, white hat. Guess there's nothing to do now but go along quietly and pay my debt to society.
Angel: You think you can come to my town and pull this crap? You never learn Spike.
Spike: I may be a slow learner, but eventually I catch on.
Marcus is an expert. Some say artist, but I've never been comfortable with labels.
He's a bloody king of torture, he is. Humans, demons, politicians -- makes no difference. Some say he invented several of the classics, but he won't tell me which ones.
Marcus: His skin.
Spike: Annoying isn't it? Still attached.
Marcus: Over 200 years of living and so little external damage. What about internal?
Spike: Do you two need to be alone? Or can we get on with the ouchie part?
Marcus: He's known love.
Spike: Yeah, with a Slayer no less. How's that for perversion?
Marcus: And he has a soul.
Spike: Right. Vampire with a soul. Cursey cursed to walk the earth, trying to do good. That's not going to be a problem is it?
Marcus: On the contrary, creatures with souls have something to lose.
Spike: Souls, fingers, toes -- let's get chopping shall we? I want my damn ring.
Someone's having shish kabab.
Spike: Why do you keep playing that bleeding Brahms?
Marcus: Actually it's Mozart. Symphony 41. I find it very effective.
Spike: Yeah, well, personally I prefer his older, funnier symphonies myself.
Angel: You hired a vampire. What do you think he's going to do with the ring when he finds it? Hand it over to you?
Spike: Oh! Good lord! Why didn't I think of ... oh, half a mo... I did!
It's called addiction, Angel. We all have them. I believe yours is named Slutty the Vampire Slayer.
Spike: Speaking of little Buff. I ran into her recently. Your name didn't come up. Although, she has been awful busy jumping the bones of the very first lunkhead who came long. Good looking fellow. Used her shamelessly. She is *cute* when she's hurting, isn't she?
Angel: She's cuter when she's kicking your ass.
(Angel screams as he's being tortured)
Now that's music.
Spike: What is it with you good guys running in packs? Who's this one?
Doyle: More than meets the eye, blondie.
Spike: Oooo, the Mick's got spine. Maybe I'll snap it in two.
Doyle: Where's Angel?
Spike: Um, tall, brooding guy? Cave Man brow? He's having the living hell tortured out of him.
To coin a popular Sunnydale phrase: Duh!
Now, now. Staking the torturer's strictly prohibited.
Now you made him mad. Wouldn't want to be in your chains.
I do the work. I do the digging. I fight off the Slayer. Drive to L.A. Hire the help. And what do I get? Royally screwed is what! Well that cinches it. No more partners. From now on, I'm my own man. Lone wolf. Sole survivor. Look out! Here comes Spike! The biggest, baddest mother... (he stands underneath the holes Marcus made and his hair sets fire) AAAGH!