The heavy curtains were in place over the windows and doors of Spike's Pub, despite the carefully tinted glass, as they always were before sundown. The doors were, however, open, leaving the two weighted curtains as all that stood between the owner and sunlight. Outside the door was a sign that read
'Closed till further notice' and inside there was an extremely irate monologue.
Spike, mop in hand, was cleaning the pub with something akin to vengence. Every slap of the mop against the floor was punctuated by a snarl and yet another item in his growing diatribe.
"Damn
teenagers." Splash. "Comin' in here in a bloody
herd." The soft, vitriol was interrupted by a loud, cranking noise. "Treatin' the place as if it's a damn
nightclub instead of a bleedin'
pub." The mop slapped against the floor loudly. "Come in here, get
totally wasted, for which I will probably be brought up on charges, thank-you-
oh-so-very-much, and what part of
subtle do they not
get?"
The sound of moving furniture followed for a bit before his monologue resumed. "What, now it's
sexy to be falling down drunk and dressed like a complete whore?" There was a pause which was undoubtedly filled by various mental images of Drusilla, dressed somewhat more tastefully, and Spike actually sounded more cheerful when he began muttering again. "Stupid, drunk teenagers with their stupid, drunk carryings on and their half-assed parties which leave a bleedin' pig-sty to be cleaned. From now on, there's going to be a
surcharge for idiotic, pre-pubescent carrings-on, and a bloody great fee if anyone wants to hold a damn underaged drinking party on the premesis...."
((OOC - Thread now locked to
pubkeeper,
ac_brothers and
the4thsister due to a minor time issue.))
( And Spike's day doesn't get any better. )