"Over my dead body."

"You're already dead!"

Spike growls and looks again at the invitation.

"Don't have a tux."

"We'll hire one."

"There's people there I've never heard of."

"Since when has that been a problem?"

"And it's ages since I did it." Spike waves the card under Angel's nose. "You put them up to this."

"Only to prove I can listen to Manilow and appreciate good writing. Let's see the invite."

"The Dead Poets' Society invites William the Bloody to read a selection of his own poetry at the Los Angeles' Branch inaugural dinner. Black Tie," he reads aloud.