FRED: Oh! Good night.
MAN: Good night.
SPIKE: How long did you know I was there?
FRED: Uh, just since the lobby. But that popping up behind me was really scary. Look, I dropped my papers.
SPIKE: Nice touch.
SPIKE: I"d give you a hand with that, but...
FRED: Still no interaction?
SPIKE: Not a twinge. Can"t spirit the knickknacks about. Can"t willie the locals. Bloody sad ghost I turned out.
FRED: I"ve told you before you"re not a ghost.
SPIKE: Chipper. Give us a hug.
FRED: You know what I mean. You"re more than a common spectral disturbance. I"ve never seen anything like you.
SPIKE: Bet you say that to all the spirits.
FRED: Oh, your radiant heat signature"s dropped another .02 degrees.
SPIKE: Thought it was a bit nippy.
FRED: Is everything...are you...
SPIKE: Feeling the tug of eternal damnation? Maybe that"s why I can"t touch anything. Using all my mentalies just to keep from slipping into hell.
FRED: I won"t let that happen. I"ve been working on a theory. Well, more of a hunch, actually, but I think I"m getting close.
SPIKE: To making me a real boy again?
FRED: Heh. As real as a vampire with a soul can be. It won"t be like Angel"s thing with the prophecy, but...
SPIKE: What prophecy?
FRED: The shan-shoe-ha something or "nother. Says that if Angel helps enough people, he gets to be human again.
SPIKE: Oh. Really.
Goody for him.
FRED: Ah! That totally makes sense.
SPIKE: What does?
FRED: The fluctuations in your readings. Lack of particle cohesion. It"s almost as if your essence is straddling a dimensional void, which may be the key, assuming that the amulet you used to save the world is some sort of trans-reality amplifier capable of focusing massive quantities of mystical energy.
SPIKE: And what in the King"s English does that mean to the dearly almost departed?
FRED: It means that if I can defy most of the laws of nature, there"s a good chance I"ll be able to anchor you to this plane and make you corporeal.
SPIKE: Well... might be a hug in your future after all.
Don"t mean to interrupt the sitting in the dark basement, mate, but could you point the quickest way back to the lab? As the ghost flies-
Take that as a "no," then.
LORNE: Bubie, I negotiated that deal with my own 2 horns. Second billing right after Gwyneth. Yeah. No, stop crying, stop crying. It"s OK you put on a couple of pounds since casting. Yeah, they can"t just-
No, no, no, no. Just put the pills down. I"ll straighten this out. If I can"t, I"ll take a handful myself.
FRED: I need these as soon as possible.
WESLEY: Hello, Wesley. Nice to see you.
FRED: Oh. Sorry. Little preoccupied.
WESLEY: The Magdalene Grimoire, Necronomicon des Mortes, Hochstadter"s Treatise on Fractal Geometry in 12-dimensional Space. "Preoccupied" might not be the word we"re looking for.
FRED: How fast can I get "em?
WESLEY: Half of these are antiquities of the rarest order.
If I exploit every connection I"ve made over the last month as the new head of research and intelligence... 20 minutes.
FRED: Great. Let me know when they"re in.
WESLEY: Under one condition... dinner.
FRED: Oh, I, uh...
WESLEY: I mean you, having one, a real one. When"s the last time you had anything besides day-old takeout? Or had more than a nap up in your lab?
FRED: I"m OK. Really. 20 minutes? Thanks. And don"t worry. I am totally, completely...
EVE: Hey. Got a sec?
ANGEL: Ahem. Um, I know difficult it"s been going from a small detective agency to... running Wolfram & Hart. And we"ve all been adjusting, but...
FRED: It"s OK. Wes just gave me the talk. And I"m going to have a good meal and at least 6 hours of sleep, so everybody can just stop worrying. I"m fine. Really.
ANGEL: Good. That"s...
Actually, there"s some concern about how much the Practical Science Department"s been spending.
FRED: Oh. Um... yeah, I guess I may have gone over my projections by a few-
EVE: $800,000. That"s how much you"ve exceeded your quarterly budget. And the quarter ain"t over yet, sweetie.
FRED: Look, I-I know it sounds like-I mean, it is a lot of money, but I-I"m trying to do something that"s never been done before. So, yeah, attempting to recorporealize Spike is gonna cost-
ANGEL: Whoa! Trying to do what?
FRED: Make Spike corporeal again like you asked.
ANGEL: Uh, no, what I asked for was for you to try to find a way to get Spike out of Wolfram & Hart.
We accepted the offer to take over the L.A. Branch of an evil, multi-dimensional law firm because we thought we could make a difference. Use the resources of Wolfram & Hart to do something decent.
ANGEL: And how does that have anything to do with Spike?
FRED: He just saved the world. Vampire with a soul fighting for the good of humanity. Ring anything? He"s just like you, a champion.
ANGEL: God, I really hate that word.
FRED: Think of what an asset he"d be fighting on our side.
ANGEL: Except he won"t be. I know Spike better than anyone, and he only cares about himself.
FRED: And Buffy.
EVE: Well, this is getting interesting.
ANGEL: You"re right. He does care about Buffy. So, where do you think he"s gonna run off to as soon as his fresh, new feet hit the ground?
FRED: Is that what this is about? You"re afraid he"s gonna come back and try to get with your ex again?
ANGEL: I just want you to be careful, Fred, because I know how charming Spike can be.
EVE: He is quite the dish, with those eyes...
FRED: And the hair and the cheeks and- What do you think I am, stupid? I know he"s been playing me with the looks and the smiles. I"m not some idiot schoolgirl with a crush.
ANGEL: Then what is it?
FRED: It"s about doing what"s right. Remember?
ANGEL: Your department. Your call. Just don"t be disappointed if it doesn"t work. Some people can"t be saved.
SPIKE: Never a fetching mad scientist about when you need one.
Whatever you"re cobbling together, pet, I think you better hurry it along.
Done chopping your feelers off in the basement? Floating upstairs for a few chuckles now?
Right. Vampire ghost here, ya sod. Bloody well invented afraid of the dark.
Bugger this. I"m not playing follow the blinking light for the rest of the-
All right. Lured me here with the creepshow. Now what?
ARMLESS GHOST WOMAN: Please...hold me... Hold me, please. It"s coming.
SPIKE: So, what"s on the "genda? Rousting a nest of venomous retirement plans?
ANGEL: Shop"s closed, Spike. Come back and haunt me tomorrow.
SPIKE: Air"s too rarefied up here for my taste, anyhows. Down with the dregs is where I belong, isn"t it?
ANGEL: And yet he"s still here.
SPIKE: Just thought we could hang is all. Couple of vampires from the old days doing our... hangy thing.
ANGEL: You"re starting to feel it, aren"t you? How close you are now... to hell?
SPIKE: What if I am? Not like it"s such a big, bleeding deal, is it? If a ponce like you could break out-
ANGEL: I never escaped from hell. All I got was a short reprieve. Not even sure how I managed that.
SPIKE: Oh, put your martyr away, Mahatma. Fred told me all about your great, shining prophecy. Pile up all your good deeds and get the big brass ring handed to you like everything else.
ANGEL: Except for one small catch. The prophecy"s a bunch of bull. They all are. Nothing"s written in stone or fated to happen, Spike. You save the world, you end up running an evil law firm.
SPIKE: Or playin" Casper with one foot in the fryer.
ANGEL: You think any of it matters? The things we did? The lives we destroyed. That"s all that"s ever gonna count. So, yeah, surprise. You"re going to hell. We both are.
SPIKE: Then why even bother?
Try to do the right thing, make a difference...
ANGEL: What else are we gonna do?
SPIKE: So that"s it, then. I really am going to burn.
ANGEL: Welcome to the club.
SPIKE: Least I got company, eh? You and me, together again. Hope and Crosby. Stills and Nash. Chico and the-
ANGEL: Yeah, are we done?
SPIKE: Never much for small talk, were you? Always too busy trying to perfect that brooding block-of-wood mystique. God, I love that.
ANGEL: Not as much as I loved your nonstop yammering.
SPIKE: The way you always had to be the big swingy, swaggerin" around, barkin" orders...
ANGEL: Never listening...
SPIKE: Always interrupting...
ANGEL: And your hair. What color do they call that, radioactive?
SPIKE: Never much cared for you, Liam, even when we were evil.
ANGEL: Cared for you less.
There was one thing about you...
ANGEL: Yeah, I never told anybody about this, but I-I liked your poems.
SPIKE: You like Barry Manilow.
ANGEL: What is it?
SPIKE: Don"t you see it?
ANGEL: See what?
SPIKE: Nothing. Too much talk of fire and brimstone.
SPIKE: Yes. Right now. Right here.
Piss off! I"m trying to have a conversation here! Shut up!
WESLEY: Who"s he talking to?
SPIKE: Everywhere. The blighters are coming out of the woodwork! No, I am not talking to you! Go away!
GUNN: We just checked with security.
EVE: They do hourly sweeps with the mystics to secure against spectral intrusion.
ANGEL: So how many are we dealing with?
GUNN: None. Last sweep was 10 minutes ago. Spike"s the only non-corporeal in the building.
ARMLESS GHOST WOMAN: It"s coming for you.
SPIKE: Check again.
FRED: Maybe we should go back to the lab-
SPIKE: No, I"m telling you, they"re here. You have to check again. Something"s happening-
HANGING GHOST MAN: It"s...here.
SPIKE: Fred, please, you have to use that perfect brain of yours and get me the hell out of here.
EVE: Where"d he go?
ANGEL: It"s OK. He does this sometimes.
SPIKE: Does what?
FRED: We should spread out, see if we can find him. We just need to find him.
SPIKE: What are you going on about? I haven"t gone anywhere. Fred? I"m here. I"m-I"m still here! Fred!
MALE VOICE: She can"t help you now, William. No one can.
SPIKE: Is this the part where I say, "who"s there?" And something creepy happens?
Oh, no. Haunted lift. Take a slice more to wet my knickers.
WESLEY: Angel does have a point. Spike has been unintentionally disapparating more and more frequently.
GUNN: Give him 20 minutes. He"ll be popping up next to you in the bathroom, making cracks about your-
Am I the only one he does that to?
FRED: I know he"s done this before, but you saw the way he was acting. Something"s different this time. He"s agitated, hallucinating.
GUNN: Ghosts can do that?
WESLEY: We are dealing with a unique case here as far as manifestations go. Dementia isn"t completely out of the question.
FRED: He"s not crazy.
GUNN: Screaming about people who aren"t there? That"s grounds for involuntary committal under the Lanterman-Petris-Short Act which states-
Oh, sorry. Sometimes the law they stuffed in my noggin just clicks on.
FRED: You don"t know what Spike"s dealing with, where he goes when he disappears. He told me. It"s hell.
He"s slipping into hell.
GUNN: Kinda figured.
WESLEY: Of course.
GUNN: Where else would he be headed?
SPIKE: Had to be the basement.
I already played this one out. Not like another round"s gonna rattle my knobs.
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: It"s gonna get you.
SPIKE: What exactly would it be, love?
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: Reaper"s gonna take you.
SPIKE: The reaper? Tall, grim fellow with a scythe? Is that what all this boogie-boogie"s been about?
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: It hurts...
SPIKE: I been knocking around the land of the lost for months now, pretty as you please. Slipped through the cracks, did I?
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: Don"t worry, William. Haven"t forgotten you.
FRED: Carry the quotient load across the remainder... support the imbalance with Lumirea"s fourth constant...
SPIKE: Think I know what they are... the things I been seeing. They"re the welcoming party. Guess hell got tired of waitin". Reaching out for me now. Sent their boy around to collect me.
FRED: I knew it.
SPIKE: Knows my name. Knows how to hurt me. I wanted to thank you, pet. How you tried to help. Wanted to tell you what that meant to me before I-
FRED: Damn, I"m good!
SPIKE: You are?
FRED: Frickin" genius! Just cancel out the radical...
SPIKE: Thought you had me, didn"t ya?
FRED: Which causes a feedback wave that liquefies half of Los Angeles.
FRED: Oh! I"ll never figure this out!
SPIKE: Yes, you will! Genius, remember? Don"t throw in now, Fred. Please!
SPIKE: That"s right, love. You felt it, too, didn"t you? I"m here! I"m still here. No! She can feel me. You"re not taking me yet! You"re not taking me!
FRED: Spike, if it"s you, give me some sort of-
Oh! Would everybody please stop doing that?
ANGEL: Sorry. I just wanted to let you know-
FRED: Angel, something was in the lab. It-it touched me. I think maybe it was-
ANGEL: Fred, we did another sweep with the mystics. They didn"t find anything.
FRED: Screw the mystics. I know what I felt. We have to find a way to contact him before he"s really gone.
WESLEY: Perhaps we should reconsider this.
GUNN: You think? Seen enough horror flicks to know these things always turn out ugly.
I stand corrected.
PSYCHIC: All right. Let"s get to it. Eve tells me that you"ve lost a ghostie.
FRED: Well, he"s not actually a ghost technically. More of a-
PSYCHIC: Yeah, whatever.
Now, I have pilates at the crack of why-am-I-awake. So we"re gonna move this right along. I will mutter a few calming words to get us into the zone, and then we"ll see if we can scare up your missing spook. OK. Clear your minds... which, judging by the looks of you, won"t be that hard.
FRED: Should we hold hands?
PSYCHIC: Only if you"re lonely. Now, zip it and let me do my sweet funky.
I call upon the guardian of souls, the keeper of the passage. Let our breath flow from what is to what has passed. Bless us with the presence of the lost.
Grant us communion with the world beyond our reach.
Give voice to those who can no longer be heard. I beseech you, open your gates... reveal your secrets.
I sense a presence.
SPIKE: Damn right you do.
PSYCHIC: Very close
SPIKE: Skip the claptrap and tell them to get me out of here.
PSYCHIC: So much pain...
FRED: He"s in pain?
PSYCHIC: The dark soul... so much suffering.
SPIKE: Dark. Pain. Suffering. They"ve got it. Now tell them to help me!
PSYCHIC: It"s coming...it"s coming...
SPIKE: I"m already here. What are you going on about?
PSYCHIC: Oh, God. I can feel it. The dark soul...it"s here. It"s... it"s the R...
SPIKE: The Reaper! The bloody freakin" Reaper! Go on, tell "em!
PSYCHIC: It"s the-
FRED: What"s happening?
ANGEL: Spike, stop it.
SPIKE: It"s not me, you git.
ANGEL: Let her go.
FRED: Are you all right?
GUNN: OK, what the hell was that? I know they used to call Spike "William the Bloody," but why would he go all Scanners on her?
WESLEY: He wouldn"t. No advantage in it to kill someone trying to help him.
GUNN: You saying it was an accident?
WESLEY: Or whatever she contacted wasn"t the "dark soul" we were expecting.
GUNN: So if she wasn"t talking about Spike...
WESLEY: Then there"s something else here at Wolfram & Hart. Something else a hell of a lot worse.
SPIKE: Why did it kill her? Reaper"s supposed to take souls, not make "em. If it"s come for me...couldn"t have been worried she was gonna help. She didn"t even know I was there. Unless it wasn"t about me.
Fred, I think I know why it killed her. It was trying to hide something, something it didn"t want you to know because-
Come on. Just...reach out.
the word "REAPER"
SPIKE: Come on, then. No more games. No more hiding in the shadows. Let"s do this... right and proper. A lawyer?
BLOODY GHOST LAWYER: William...
ARMLESS GHOST WOMAN: Please...
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: It hurts...
SPIKE: No! I"m not talking to flunkies anymore! You hear that?! Got your number, don"t I? You"re sending in third-rates to rattle my chains. You"re just some little twit of a spirit trying to have a go at me, aren"t you? Big bad reaper, come to take me to hell. Not bloody likely.
REAPER / MALE VOICE: Oh, yes. Take you screaming. An eternity of suffering for your sins. But first.. I get to play.
Let"s get started, then... shall we?
GUNN: Got it. The dark soul.
ANGEL: What"s it say?
GUNN: A lot. There are over 3,200 different references. 4 of them are about you.
ANGEL: What? Give me that.
WESLEY: This is getting us nowhere.
ANGEL: Let me see this. Well, that"s not fair. I didn"t even have a soul when I did that.
WESLEY: There has to be a way to narrow down the search.
FRED: Reaper. Cross reference with the word "reaper."
GUNN: Where"d you pull that?
FRED: It came to me in the shower.
ANGEL: Here it is. Matthias Pavayne, dark soul number 182.
ANGEL: Well, there"s not much here. European aristocrat, 18th century. He was a doctor, nicknamed "The Reaper" for performing unnecessary surgery on his patients.
FRED: Well, what kind of surgery?
WESLEY: The kind you don"t recover from. There"s a file on him in internal archives, classified histories.
GUNN: He worked for Wolfram & Hart?
WESLEY: Not exactly. "Word spread of his unorthodox practices... fled to California, still under Spanish rule at the time. His arrival coincided with a rash of brutal, ritualistic murders. Pieces of the victims placed in a manner suggesting an intimate knowledge of the dark arts."
WESLEY: "The slaughter continued for the better part of 20 years. The perpetrator was never caught." At least... not by the authorities.
ANGEL: What, you"re saying Wolfram & Hart took this guy out?
FRED: Why would they do that?
GUNN: Sounds like their idea of employee of the month.
WESLEY: Because they needed his blood. "Representatives from Wolfram & Hart were looking to build a new branch in what would eventually become Los Angeles. Unfortunately a Spanish mission was already resting on the site their seers recommended." They needed an appropriate sacrifice
to deconsecrate the grounds.
FRED: So this place is built on the blood of a mass-murdering psychopath?
WESLEY: It would appear so.
GUNN: But if Pavayne"s half as bad as he sounds, he should"ve been roasting his chestnuts in hell centuries ago.
ANGEL: You said something about the dark arts, right? Maybe he knew enough to figure out a way to stick around.
FRED: That might explain why the mystics can"t get a bead on him, too.
ANGEL: What I still don"t get are all the ghosts at Wolfram & Hart.
WESLEY: But there aren"t any.
ANGEL: That"s what I mean. High-risk employment. People die here all the time. This place should be full of spooks. So what happened to them?
GUNN: Maybe this Pavayne character"s munching on them.
FRED: Whatever he"s doing to them, we need to get Spike back... before he"s next.
PAVAYNE / REAPER: Vampire soul... watch it struggle. More fun than the others.
SPIKE: Go to hell.
PAVAYNE: Your journey, not mine.
Oh, the pretty. Still trying to save you. Such passion, so...wet and sweet. Perhaps I"ll have a taste one day.
Still thinking like meat and bone. None here, boy. In this place...
...all rules are mine. Reality bends. My desire. The way it was meant to...
SPIKE: Bending reality? I didn"t just fade away. It was you. That"s why they can"t see me anymore.
PAVAYNE: Parlor tricks. To amuse... like your blood.
Oh, yes. Nothing here without the will. Your voice... your body...
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: Clothes you think you wear...
PAVAYNE: William the Bloody. Scourge and destroyer. But scratch the surface...
ARMLESS GHOST WOMAN: Little nancy, still crying for his mother.
PAVAYNE: Know all your hiddens, dirty red things you"ve done. Then fell in love. Won himself a soul. No more dirty things. Thinks himself special.
GLASS GHOST WOMAN: Thinks it matters.
HANGING GHOST MAN: Hell still waits.
PAVAYNE: Knows he deserves it, like all the others.
SPIKE: You killed them.
PAVAYNE: No. Died themselves. Here, in the service of Wolfram & Hart. Little ants, scurrying from the flames.
SPIKE: Their spirits hung on. Tried to keep from tumbling into hell. Till you gave "em a shove.
PAVAYNE: Burning now. Screaming forever. Like you"ll scream.
SPIKE: If they"re in hell, they can"t be here then, can they? Just more of your tricks. They aren"t real.
PAVAYNE: Real enough.
PAVAYNE: Hell always hungers for the wicked, boy, and it"s feeding time.
WESLEY: That"s never good.
FRED: What? Oh, no, I... I just ran out of white board. I"m not crazy. Again.
GUNN: Just scary smart.
ANGEL: You really think this will bring Spike back?
FRED: Well, I had to extrapolate a new variation on interdimensional plasma dynamics on the fly, but... if the math holds...
ANGEL: All right. First we"ll try to get Spike back, and then we"ll deal with Pavayne.
FRED: Wait. For this to work, it"s going to require a massive surge of dark energy to catalyze the process.
ANGEL: How massive?
FRED: The equivalent of nuclear evil.
ANGEL: Well, where the hell are we supposed to find that?
WESLEY: Well...there is a legend that tells of a volcano deep in the forbidden jungles of South Africa.
GUNN: Or... I might know a place a little closer to home.
ANGEL: The white room?
GUNN: Why do you think they call it that? And how are we still in the building, when we"re standing in a place that technically doesn"t exist.
ANGEL: So this is your brainstorm. You want to try and to snip off a piece of the conduit that connects Wolfram & Hart to the other dimensions.
GUNN: "Want" may be a hair strong.
ANGEL: Last conduit took the form of that creepy little girl. No telling what the new one"s decided to look like.
GUNN: Actually, it"s not that bad...
...if you like cats.
ANGEL: I"m kind of a dog person.
GUNN: Ix-nay on the :og-day.
ANGEL: Um...look, we"re not here to ruffle anything.
We were just wondering if we maybe could borrow a couple of whiskers or-
GUNN: Whoa. Hey, easy. It"s me. Charles Gunn. You know I wouldn"t be here if the situation wasn"t heavy. Just asking for a little help: Me to you, personal favor. What do you say?
Who"s a good kitty?
I expected more from soul of vampire. Too much conscience, perhaps, weighing it down.
Look... hell knows you"re ready, plump and ripe. Beginning to understand, aren"t you? The soul that blesses you...
...damns you to suffer-forever.
You go now, William, so I can stay.
Yes, squirm, boy. It won"t make a difference. Getting what you deserve.
SPIKE: You"re right. I do deserve to go to hell. But not today.
PAVAYNE: You dare!
SPIKE: Quite a bit, mate. Reality bends to desire. That was it, right? That"s why I could touch Fred, write your name in the glass. All I had to do was want it bad enough.
And guess what I want to do now, you prissy son of a bitch!
Keen little racket you"ve got carved out for yourself-prying off spirits and sucking them down the chute. Kept your own toasties out of the fire, didn"t it? "Til now.
Not so much fun when we hit back, is it?
PAVAYNE: Starting to be.
FRED: Make sure it"s calibrated to minus .058.
Did you get it?
GUNN: Make it count. Told me we ain"t getting anymore.
ANGEL: It talks? I didn"t hear it talk.
GUNN: Maybe you weren"t listening right.
FRED: All right, I think we"re almost ready.
ANGEL: How do we let Spike know?
WESLEY: Won"t have to.
FRED: This baby puts out enough juice to light up ghost city. Anything remotely spectral around here is about to get the tinglies.
PAVAYNE: Learned a few of my tricks. Means nothing, does it?
I"ve cheated hell for hundreds of years. Fed it other dirty little souls. Left me alone, let me get stronger. Now, this realm... I am God. And you...
...wood for the fire.
This won"t do. This won"t do at all.
FRED: He"s here.
Spike, step into the circle! Hurry! We"ve only got one chance at making you corporeal agai-
PAVAYNE: Why ever would I want to do that?
GUNN: It"s Pavayne!
ANGEL: He"s killing her.
PAVAYNE: Decisions. The girl... heh... or the flesh. There"s no time for both.
There"s hope for you yet, boy.
SPIKE: Not really.
PAVAYNE: No. No! Defilers! I"ll...cut you into nothing! I"ll feast on your brains. I"ll swim in lakes of your own blood.
ANGEL: You"ll shut the hell up.
SPIKE: Don"t kill him. If he becomes a spirit again, we"ll never stop him.
ANGEL: Fine. No killing. Just a whole lot of bruisin".
WESLEY: You sure you"re all right?
FRED: Yeah, I...it"s just, you know.
GUNN: Why don"t you take a break? We"ll finish up.
SPIKE: Don"t suppose you built a spare?
FRED: Most of the pieces I used on this one were practically nonexistent to start with. Even if I could replace them, the chances of finding another power source are... I"m sorry.
SPIKE: Don"t be, love. Made my choice. Wouldn"t change it for the world.
FRED: There are other things we could try. They"re a little riskier, but-
SPIKE: No. I"m not gonna end up like Pavayne-cheating hell any way he could, no matter who it hurt.
FRED: Just proves what I"ve been telling everybody.
SPIKE: That I"m a handsome devil who brightens the place up?
FRED: That you"re worth saving.
SPIKE: Don"t have it so bad, really. Plenty of room. Good company. Even picked up a few new tricks.
I guess there"s worse things...than being a ghost.
ANGEL: Sure it"ll hold him?
EVE: Permanent storage. If there"s anything Wolfram & Hart excels at, it"s keeping their unmentionables unmentioned.
ANGEL: Congratulations. You get to live forever, unable to move, to touch, or to feel... or to affect anything in the world around you. But don"t worry-I had "em give you a window.
Welcome to hell.