He had headed to the bathroom and was now in a stall, musing over nothing at all. Brain farts. 

Spike is not very stupid. His views are different than the mainstream, is all. And when the mainstream's being visited by "Powers That Be" and constantly bickering about one supposedly predestined thing or another, he can see why his views would
be unpopular. 

So he keeps them to himself. Though he has never stopped believing. 

Spike shifts on the toilet where he's barricaded himself and picks up a loose roll of tissue. He begins to unwind the roll around his hand until it resembles a large q-tip. He isn't really paying attention to his own actions, they are just something to keep his
body busy while he muses. 

He thinks his body is kind of like a little kid..to get anything done, it has to be kept occupied. 

Someone pounds on the door of the stall...it isn't a large bathroom, and people are drunk. Spike raises his eyes but ignores the intrusion. They'll go away. And of course, they do after tossing a slurred curse through the metal of the door. 

See, it is like this. For all his boasting, he doesn't think he is evil. Not at all. 

Saying he is--that is the joke. But do they get it? 'Course not. No one ever did. Even Angelus and Dru had bought into the myth. 

So as far as he knows, he is the only vampire with this view. But it doesn't bother him. Not really. Spike knows that you only want something once you know it exists. And since he has never had such understanding from another...it exists to him only in
the faintest form. Might as bloody well not exist. So he doesn't desire it. That easy. 

Spike shakes his hand until it is free of the toilet paper and then hunts for a cigarette. He finds one, much to his own amazement. He lights it up and tries to make himself more comfortable. He's still not quite ready to leave. 

Humans think the world was made for them. 

He actually has said this to people...many, in fact. But they shrug and look away. Even his own kind. Or go off on some strange rant about being the ultimate beings and humans the cattle. Yeah, sure. Lose yer mind when turned, eh? 

Spike decides he wants a different stall to play in. He's bored despite his thoughts, and who knows? There might be something of more interest in another. 

He might not be stupid, but he never claimed to express his intelligence through his choices in entertainment. 

Spike ducks his head into each open stall until he sees one with an abnormal amount of scribbles and words on the walls. Now, that is as good as the Sunday Funnies, in his own opinion. 

He settles himself once more and puffs on his cigarette. 

Anyways. 

People have this notion that the world was created for them. That evolutionary creation stopped with them. Why? Because they were meant to rule the world! 

And somehow along the way, that meant that the rules that govern nature don't apply to them. That anything that can be used to further the human race is Good, Good, Good....and anything that threatens it is Evil. 

That covers the wolves, lions, and sharks. Weeds that affect crops. Vampires. 

And of course you know what's to be done to the predators that stand in the way of this self appointed rulership. 

That is it in a nutshell, thinks Spike. People are the only species that kill other species for not agreeing with them. Vampires, you say? What were they before they were vampires, huh? 

Fuck....how many billions of humans on this planet? So many of them starving, yet there is enough food to feed an extra half billion at least. So they use it to feed the starving. And because the humans have that extra surplus, it is a biological fact that soon there will be an extra half billion within a few years. By that time, the buggers will have another surplus of food, and the population grows again...and so on and so forth. 

It all gives Spike a headache he doesn't need and he wonders how people can't see it. They think just because they have the extra food it will solve the problem.

Any species will grow to the full extent allowed by the food available to it. Spike might not be an intellect, but even he knows that. 

And the humans need all the help they can get. Though, of course he knows they don't look at it like that. They just see that the world is theirs and Spike thinks most of them must think that the Earth really is the center of the universe. 

So sue him if he is a necessary element. Predators are fucking necessary! Hell, he wants to see this work out as much as the next person. It's his world too, no matter what any Powers That Be say. He would not be here if vampires had no place. Nature ain't stupid. Nature knows what the fuck is up and what is not. 

Hell yes, and Spike is suddenly full of manic energy. If he could, he'd go take out a few dozen of the parasites on behalf of the bunnies and kangaroos and cacti that can't do it themselves. Though he'd prefer to get laid. 

There was a girl dancing earlier, and Spike wonders if she is still there. Glitter everywhere and plastic beads and hoops up her arms. But the hair was the masterpiece, these amazingly ridiculous ponytails that she whipped around as she bobbed on the
dancefloor. Nearly took out a few of the humans for Nature, herself. 

Yeah. That will be nice. Spike can dig that, can dig her and her eyes that he knows will be as plastic as her jewelery. Button-eyes in blue. 

Spike scoots to his feet and kicks the door open. There is a short, pimply teen at a urinal..and he does not look happy to see a door kicker in his presence. 

Sweet Jesus, and the night is looking up when Spike sees the walkman around the kid's neck. 

It is only a matter of time before a bleached blonde man is nodding a farewell to the bouncer. He exits into the cool fall air with a young thing on his arm that gnaws at a sucker. 

He can't hear the sound of dead leaves under his boots, nor the slurping of the candy by the girl, because some people called "The Flaming Lips" are warbling about a postman being struck by lightening. 

Maybe he is wrong, after all. 

'Cause shit, Man...any species that creates the Walkman, girls with lollipops, and songs about supernatural violence done to postal workers can't be all that bad, eh? 

End