Raises an eyebrow.

Narrows his eyes.

An utterly displeased look takes over his features.

"It's time for a hunt, I believe."

"Start running. I'll give you a head start."

"One.... Two..." Gets a knife from his collection of weapons. "...Three... Four... "

"I do enjoy a good chase." No pun intended.

"....oh lord."

//The writers mother started radiation treatment today. The next 3 weeks are going to be hectic. The writer, I and the other minions will try to be around when they can.

"Thanksgiving? I had better catch Spike | #Spasta some dinner then."

"People who feel the need to point out how dangerous and evil they are, usually are nothing of the kind."

"I could do with a distraction."

"Distraction was not had. Time to take care of that."

"Any particular reason for you to lock me again, Twitter? I haven't even been around to /do/ anything suspicious. This is getting quite ludicrous."

Drags Spike | #Spasta behind the woohoo-bushes to work out some frustrations. And possibly because he misses his husband.

"Tsk."

"Missing my husband Spike | #Spasta quite a lot. Hope he and his writer are well."

"Apparently its the day for gifts. I know how much you love cake, Spike | #Spasta."

//You are, and will be missed dearly my friend. #RIPSpasta

"I'd rather have my husband here with me, in all his annoying, troublemaker but gorgeous glory." #MyTwitterAnniversary