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Except kita0610 first used "Little One." But dammit, I'm the first that actually shrunk the bastard, then jammed him up Angel's ass. *sniffs* It's (technically not anymore, but the earth and time zones are working AGAINST me) dovil's birthday! And she looks fantastic for 84, no really. Spry, still has all her teeth... She only eats canned cat food for the FLAVOR, not because it's just easier to "pass" if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

I have met the lovely birthday girl. Have gone on a whirlwind excursion with her, actually, and she has held my hair when I've party fouled. The nimrod sent ME a gift this weekend and it's HER birthday! (D? The cds are GREAT and I've already started flipping through the book. Not reading it, mind, just flipping. What? It's been hot and it makes a good fan!) so in return I have what she really wants: out of control silly fic that takes the piss out of fandom, or as I call it: the flist thinner.

Warning: this will clear your sinuses. Let's get to it.

Title: Wee!Spike and The Singing Penis!
Author: Psssh.
Rating: Is there an NC 84?
Summary: In which your hed asplode. Gimmie a break, folks.
Current Temp: 73, and this is the very DEFINITION of crack!fic. ZOMG I'm othering MYSELF.

Last we saw Wee!Spike, he was becoming bionic...



~*~*~

"Oi!"

Angel continued to pull the petals off the daisy he had plucked in the the early morning dawn.

"Angel! Cor!"

Angel was now humming as he was want to do - something by the Pointer Sisters, if you must know.

"Blimey Peaches Buggering Sodding-" It wasn't working. Spike thought very hard - he was a thinker, let's not kid ourselves - and realized what would break the romantic spell that seemed to weave itself about his tall, dark, brooding, overly-talkative unlife mate. Weave itself about him not unlike a fine tapestry made in the misty, high mountains of Marrakesh or some other exotic sounding far-away place - unless you lived there, in which case, make it a tall tower in Cleveland - a tapestry made of many colors, many patterns, many designs. Like that. Or just weave itself about his lover like a bad toupee, it was too early to tell because he hadn't done anything yet.

Spike reclined on the bed, ran his hand down his marble-like, alabaster, pale, moonlit, fresh-milk skin to his jeans where he unzipped them. The jeans. He pulled that zipper down like zipper on a tent high in the mountains with a needy sheepherder who heard a lamb that... needed help getting over a fence. If you know what he meant. And I think you do. So now his zipper is down and springing forth from his curls like a mighty Zulu Warrior from the scrub brush on the savannah, except without a spear or poisoned darts because his penis didn't have hands, his cock... sprung forth.

As soon as that mighty flesh tube filled with spongy material, blood vessels, and all-powerful seed - Spike had taken to inserting tomato seeds into the mouth of his penis. He had read somewhere that tomatoes were high in anti-oxidants, and Spike liked the use of the word "anti" and also, he enjoyed putting things in his penis. And that's why his penis was full of seed. So. Dick out. It must have given off powerful pheromones for as soon as his thunderstick was released from its denim prison, Angel moaned. And threw the daisy to the floor. And considering the lack of mass on the daisy, it really just floated slowly to the ground, so... Not the effect he was going for. But that's Angel's POV, and this story is about Spike and his magic, powerful, healing, anti-establishment fuck-ship and Angel's love bay.

"Comin' in for a landin', love."

"I love it when you call me love. In fact, I've written an essay about how much I've loved you over the past century, and how I've been too stupid to say it. I love you, Spike Willimena McBurgenstein Golightly!"

At the sound of Angel's words of love, Spike sighed. But not with love, or relief, or happiness, but because - as we've all figured out by now - when Angel loves Spike, he becomes wee. Or rather, Wee. Spike shrank with a *pop* to five inches.

"It's allllll about you, isn't it? Fine, fine, drop your pants. But first, my tub of lube. Mustn't forget the lube."

Angel hopped into his forklift, flipped on the swirling lights and drove to the high shelf in the bathroom and raised the platform up, then with deft and clever fingers, used the controls to load the massive tub of lube onto the movable lift, then, with the warning siren beeping in a steady staccato, backed up, and lowered the ginormous tub onto the bedroom floor. With his demon strength, he wrenched the lid off, picked up Spike, and flicked him into the lube, where Spike began swimming a backstroke, breast stroke, then just doggy-paddled for a moment, ensuring that his whole gleaming, white, bone-colored, rock hard, undead body was completely coated in the slick wet. Because you can never use enough lube, let's face it.

Angel sighed and batted his eyelashes then squatted over his Lilliputian grease-monkey. Spike slipped up inside him and made quick work of kicking and punching Angel's prostate, which was incredibly challenging as Angel was not prostrate, but Spike is a vampire of many talents. And he had been desperate to show Angel his newest talent before the love-sick, talkative, wishy-washy dark haired vamp (we wouldn't want you to confuse which was which) his latest ability, but now he couldn't. Now he was too small. Smaller than a midget. More miniscule than an Ozian Little Person. Less powerful than - he was tiny, okay? He needed to DO something about it!

He stroked his torso in and out of Angel's winking, puckering, fluttering, blinking, twinkling, cramping, flexing, constricting, wrenching, clasping, quelling hole of love and sex and happiness and world peace - his arse, if you will. And you will. He picked up his pace, not unlike a runner who sees the finish line on the horizon, crowds cheering, hands reaching out to hand him gatorade, except he was jangling up and down in someone's asshole, not on a city street with crowds and a number pinned to his chest. But the finish line was real. Oh, yes.

Angel bawled out, "ZOMGmommy Igonna cuuuuuuuuuuuuuum, and I just said that with a 'u' and I meant to say Cooooooooooooome!"

And come Angel did. He came with the vengeance of a pissed off Jehovah's Witness with a quota to meet. He came with such ferocity, one might even say the vampire arrived. His creamy, viscous, milky spendings shot forth from his incredibly average penis. It spurted, sprayed, spouted, disgorged, belched, exploded, was ousted from his body with the force of a wet noodle. Spent, exhausted, tired, worn out, fagged, sleepy, tired, and all out done, Angel lay on his side, reached back behind hiim and pulled his lover from betwixt his ass cheeks and set Spike on a velvet pillow - Scotchgarded, of course - and smiled. If there was anything Angel loved to do as much as the horizontal - or vertical or diagonal - tango, it was smiling. As Angel began to drift off into post-coital bliss, Spike felt the change take over him.

Hot flashes, irritability, random chin hairs sprouting, and then a hump formed on his back until his body grew back to its normal five foot six eight and a half - he made sure to put his magic boots back on. But nothing else because a naked man in black motorcycle boots with lifts buckles is the hot. And also, the sex. The. He chanced a look at Angel - for deep down he expected Angel to hit him, because for all his daisy picking and smiling and outright joy that he constantly emanated, Angel liked to hit. Angel saw Spike flinch, and rabbit punched his arm twice.

"Two for flinching!"

Well, no chance of Spike shrinking now. It was time.

Spike flopped back on the bed, propped himself up on his elbows, and shouted out to Angel, which was strange because he was RIGHT THERE, "Oi! Buggering Sodding Bloody Peaches Berk Minging Pet!"

Angel cocked - heh - one eye and looked at his pale, luminescent, granite - if granite was the purest of white - lover and absolute BFF and replied, "Yeah?"

"Taught it to sing."

Spike focused very hard, and the piss slit of his love pump coughed, cleared its throat, and moaned. "Oi! Come on, now! Like we rehearsed!" Spike reached back and hit the tape deck that just happened to be on the dresser and some of Angel's Euro dance tunes began playing. Spike rolled his eyes, then watched and his dancing, bouncing, bobbing, cavorting cock-of-the-walk as it gamboled among the pure white, um, light brown curls at the delta of his thighs. And it sang. It sang of love, of having a "groove," which it did on the underside of his uncut penis - born in the 1800s, let's not forget - and it sang of having a purpose. A special purpose. And that purpose? To burrow into Angel's ass of warmth and home and belonging and also friction as much as possible. But before Angel could sigh and exclaim with the love ever-present in his heart, Spike clapped his hand over his lover's mouth - his penis wasn't done yet.

And you can hear the penis' song right here. Let's all sigh with love today. And get the music in us. And also a penis - for they heal the world. They set you FREEEEEEEEEEEEE! Now if you don't mind, I'm going to spend all of my free time looking at the beautiful things today. Cock is King.

~*~*~

Told you I was broken inside. And lastly, IT'S LIKE THIS WAS MADE WITH YOU IN MIND, DOVIL!!! Ahahahaha!!!

Comments

( 63 comments — Leave a comment )
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wolfshark
Mar. 8th, 2006 06:57 am (UTC)
You have killed me - my coworkers are looking at me funny trying to figure out why I'm laughing so hard I'm wheezing.
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 07:05 am (UTC)
*adds 'Murderer' to my resume* That should help when I join the Republican Party.

Hahaha! *hands you a penis*
... - wolfshark - Mar. 8th, 2006 07:27 am (UTC) - Expand
... - stoney321 - Mar. 8th, 2006 09:25 am (UTC) - Expand
... - wolfshark - Mar. 8th, 2006 09:28 am (UTC) - Expand
dedra
Mar. 8th, 2006 07:54 am (UTC)
OMGOMGOMFG--I am damaged for life...a singing penis? With Video? What kind of strange pervy insane nutso Drusilla bint are you? Even though it did make me laugh and spew Coke With Lime (T) all over my screen...which did not make my computer happy in the least....

Thank you stoney--I needed that...
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 09:22 am (UTC)
Did you just ask what KIND of crazy person I am? Because it should be obvious: the craziest of the crazy, HELLO. :D
... - dedra - Mar. 8th, 2006 06:59 pm (UTC) - Expand
(Deleted comment)
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 09:23 am (UTC)
Re: Happy Birthday Dovil! Yesterday!
Hahaha! If there's one thing I know, it's that Angel loves to sing Pointer Sisters and feel joy and talk and talk and talk, and Spike is 5 inches tall.

KNOW this. WHEEEEEEEE!
spikendru
Mar. 8th, 2006 08:25 am (UTC)
OMFG!!! A singing penis! Does Riley know about this yet? Hee hee - can't wait till he finds out the telescoping penis can dance and . . . sing.

I heart you! And am breathlessly awaiting the next installment to discover what other *cough* skills *cough* Wee!SpikeTM has developed.
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 09:24 am (UTC)
BWAH! And you want MORE of this stuff??? GLutton for punishment, aren't you, ya little masochist.

WHEEEE! I mean... WEE!(spike.)
... - spikendru - Mar. 9th, 2006 09:37 am (UTC) - Expand
ely_jan
Mar. 8th, 2006 08:53 am (UTC)
My world is full of much joy thanks to the magical properties of the Spike who is wee! *idolizes* *fangirls you*

And how much do I love the penis unicorn? A friend of mine sent me that link when I was working on my epic WIP about Harmony and her bestest, most favorite unicorn evah. *is inspired anew*

WHEEEE!!
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 09:24 am (UTC)
PENIS UNICORN. Nothing like sticking a dong on the head of a My Little Pony. My littlest walked in the office and "awww"d the pretty horsey before mommy could click away. Bwah!
... - ely_jan - Mar. 8th, 2006 11:11 am (UTC) - Expand
... - stoney321 - Mar. 8th, 2006 11:13 am (UTC) - Expand
... - ely_jan - Mar. 8th, 2006 11:22 am (UTC) - Expand
beadattitude
Mar. 8th, 2006 10:05 am (UTC)
::weakly waves from floor::

The "Zulu warrior" bit was freaking awesome.....but the fact that the singing penis can hit a high note and swing around in a circle in time to the music is what laid me out on the floor.

cooter!
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 10:07 am (UTC)
COOTER.

Ahaha! I had todig to find that link - that made the internet rounds a few years back... Bwah! SOOOO disturbing. Cooter.
(Deleted comment)
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 11:00 am (UTC)
Bwah! I love that I've outdone myself. I've tapped that crazy-well dry, I have. :D

People are CRAZY!! That video proves I'm not the most broken one out there. PROOF, I tells ya!!
entrenous88
Mar. 8th, 2006 10:51 am (UTC)
for deep down he expected Angel to hit him, because for all his daisy picking and smiling and outright joy that he constantly emanated, Angel liked to hit. Angel saw Spike flinch, and rabbit punched his arm twice.

"Two for flinching!"


HAHAHAHA! Two for flinching should be the new motto of their love!
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 10:59 am (UTC)
Two for flinching makes its way into many of my fics... It's such an utterly BOY thing that cracks me up. AHH!! Lindsey's gonna hit me!!

*wishes I was logged in as Will for my pointing/fighting icon*

I NEED an icon that reads: Spangel: That's two for flinching.
crayonbreakygal
Mar. 8th, 2006 11:09 am (UTC)
You put the crack in crack!fic, hon. That was just, there are no words. Really, there are no words.

Your use of adjective and adverbs and verbs was astounding.

**goes to copy all those lovely words for later use**

**listens in my head to what Angel would sound like singing the Pointer Sisters**
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 11:12 am (UTC)
Probably like a slightly off-key and nasal "It's Raining Men."

That's what I hear when the voices die down, anyway.

EMBRACE THE CRACK FIC! Dammit - I'm not logged in, so I can't use my icon. But I'm thinking it!!
cordelianne
Mar. 8th, 2006 11:19 am (UTC)
So now his zipper is down and springing forth from his curls like a mighty Zulu Warrior from the scrub brush on the savannah, except without a spear or poisoned darts because his penis didn't have hands, his cock... sprung forth.
At that point I put my head down on my head on my desk at work and tried not to laugh hysterically. I failed.

Angel bawled out, "ZOMGmommy Igonna cuuuuuuuuuuuuuum, and I just said that with a 'u' and I meant to say Cooooooooooooome!" hahahahaha!

Singing penis!!!! My co-workers now think I'm insane because of my uncontrollable laughter! :)
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 12:33 pm (UTC)
They think you're insane because you ARE. Wait... that's me. Carry on!

Heh. *cough* this is a series. *cough*
... - cordelianne - Mar. 8th, 2006 01:27 pm (UTC) - Expand
lynnenne
Mar. 8th, 2006 05:27 pm (UTC)
Spike had taken to inserting tomato seeds into the mouth of his penis.

EEWWWWW! A world of eeewwwwwww! That's grosser than the Senator from South Dakota. We should name this practice after him. BECAUSE IT'S NOT REALLY RAPE IF THERE ARE NO TOMATO SEEDS!!!
lynnenne
Mar. 8th, 2006 05:28 pm (UTC)
p.s. OMFG THE UNICORNS! *falls over laughing*
... - stoney321 - Mar. 8th, 2006 06:01 pm (UTC) - Expand
hellziggy
Mar. 8th, 2006 05:31 pm (UTC)
He came with the vengeance of a pissed off Jehovah's Witness with a quota to meet.

Your writing is pure genius! (Or pure insanity. Never sure which...)
The singing penis scares me!
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 06:02 pm (UTC)
I am SOOOO glad someone pull quoted that line because I howled like a monkey when I wrote it. Bwah! *breaks arm patting self on the back*

The singing penis is AWESOME. Because it is gorgeous and FREEEEEEEEEEE EEE EEE EEE, set it free.
irishrose1
Mar. 8th, 2006 05:58 pm (UTC)
BWAHahahahaha! Now I need a Spikey icon that says Zulu Warrior. Oh dear lord that was absolutely divine!
stoney321
Mar. 8th, 2006 06:03 pm (UTC)
Or a picture of a cock on a spring DRESSED like a a Zulu Warrior! Okay, now I seriously want that icon. Ha!
... - irishrose1 - Mar. 9th, 2006 07:29 am (UTC) - Expand
ex_dovil323
Mar. 8th, 2006 09:43 pm (UTC)
Oh I totally fangirl you! You do the best things with Spike's penis ever, with the seeds and the dancing and the singing and the cavourting. That is an image that will stay with me forever, even after the years of therapy.

This was just perfect and the exploits of Wee!Spike is the best birthday present that a broken freak like me could ask for. I lurve you to pieces. Seriously, there is much wacky misspelt lurve.

And then you gave me a My Little Pony with a dildo glued to it's forehead. I weep with joy.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

ps. I will never have another birthday because I died laughing.
stoney321
Mar. 9th, 2006 05:24 am (UTC)
Ahahahaha!! I've made you immortal!! (This is what I was doing while we were emailing and you ere hacking up a lung)

How freaking awesome are those unicorns? Should I just say "screw it" to the whole potential copyright thing and make you an icon?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! And it's almost BBQ time and friends and you are going to get absolutely pissed! YAYAYAYAYAYAY! Think the world of you, toots. So much, in fact, I jammed a vampire with a singing, telescoping dick up Angel's arse. To show my love.
globalfruitbat
Mar. 9th, 2006 04:04 pm (UTC)
flist THINNER?????? You are CRAZY (which, yes, you know) because now I must ADD YOU WITH THE SPEED OF A PENIS-ZULU WARRIOR ON THE HUNT.

I am dead from the laughing. The hilarity. The. And I will be billing you for a new diaphram (muscle, not birth control) and I love the singing penis.

"No one can defeat the [singing] penis!"
stoney321
Mar. 9th, 2006 04:08 pm (UTC)
Ahahaha! Hooray! So... you won't throw rocks and stones when you find out this is a series? Including a Grease musical parody?

God, I'm so broken. Welcome aboard the crazy train! No need to notify the conductor if you need to jump while in transit. :D
... - globalfruitbat - Mar. 9th, 2006 04:10 pm (UTC) - Expand
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Are You Actually

Reading this? I'm just curious. Because that's really detail-oriented of you. Feel free to stop reading. But you can see that there's more here, so are you going to keep reading? Really? That's pretty dedicated. I'm impressed. No, really. I'm not being sarcastic, why do you get like that? See, this is the problem I have with your mother - yes. YES. I'm going there. It's time we put all of our cards on the table.

I love you, why are you doing this? After all we've been through? You don't have to be like this. You know, still reading. You could be baking a pie. And then sharing it with me.

Time Wot It Is

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