-We have convened to elect Adze's replacement on the High

Council by due process laid out in section three paragraph two

of the Covenant of the Vampiric Constitution.

By the power vested in me as Chief High Councilor,

I present Ingrid Dracula.

Do you, Ingrid Dracula, swear your allegiance

to the High Council?

-I do.

-Then I introduce your opponent.

-What opponent?

-George Lansley.

-Good to see you again, Ustrel.

-Likewise, George.

Do you, George Lansley, swear your allegiance

to the High Council?

-I do.

-We will adjourn until all members have voted.

-There's one loser here, and it's not me.

-Still pining?

Never mind.

I'm still here, Master.

Oh, love's a game of chess, eh?

Your move, Master.

I'll go first.

I think I'll go there.

-Father, Bertolini's file.

There's nothing incriminating.

-Bertolini must have a weakness.

-Have you ever thought, maybe he's

as perfect as McCauley thinks he is?

I guess not.

Why don't you just dust him?

-Because breathers have an unfathomable sentimentality

for the dead.

He will live on in Ms. McCauley's heart,

and I-- I'll never get a look in.

-Not if he dies a fool.

Make it so that it's some stupid accident of his own doing.

-Sit, sit, sit.

Chess always helps me think.

-No, no, no, no.

Win-- winner stays on.

-Oh yeah?

Checkmate.

I'll-- um-- I'll leave you to it.

-After you.

-The vote is unanimous.

Ingrid Dracula--

-Yes!

-We thank you for being a worthy opponent.

The Council elects George Lansley.

Now moving on to item two on our agenda.

-No hard feelings.

-Oh, kidney ball.

-No, these are for Master.

-But he hates kidney.

-I know.

-Kidney.

-My mistake, Master.

I deserve to be punished.

-Count.

-George Lansley!

I hear congratulations are in order.

Come, come, come.

A worthy choice on the High Council's part.

-And a crate of the finest, as promised, for nominating me.

-No, I always back a winner.

-Wait, that's my job.

-You nominated him against me?

-Yes.

Who knew politics could be such fun?

-This isn't over.

-Ignore her.

All flap, no flight.

Guests first, weasel face!

Vlad, meet George Lansley, newest

member if the High council.

-You are aware that the High Council is still

fully committed to peaceful coexistence.

-I hope to be envoy between biter and breather.

-The slayers will be glad to hear that.

I'll assure them that you're on site.

-To peace.

-No taste.

I'll try and get some proper stuff.

-Didn't you hear?

Peace still stands.

No hunting.

-Who's going to stop us?

The slayers?

-He's only using you to get at me.

-It's not all about you.

-He'll hurt you.

-Don't forget, I know that it was

you who mindwiped the slayers.

So if anyone's going to get hurt, it'll be you by me

and when you least expect it.

-What a color scheme the Count has.

Terrible taste in curtains.

-No, no, no, no no.

You're driving.

-We can pick up another couple of waifs and strays

from the arches before sun-up.

Lovely.

-Concentrate, idiot.

Go that way!

That way!

-It's all right.

We're not gonna hurt you.

It's all right.

My name's George.

I run a shelter for the homeless.

Your hands are freezing.

That's it.

Nice and steady.

Mind the puddles.

We'll get you a nice cup of tea and a warm bath.

-Now, are you sure it's completely unsafe?

-Well, it will be once I've sawn off a beam

and drilled a few more holes.

-Ah yes.

Bertolini really will be falling for Ms. McCauley.

-Comfort food?

What's wrong?

-The Count doesn't like me anymore.

-He never liked you.

-Might as well not exist.

-Dad takes you for granted.

Why don't you leave for a few days?

He'll soon realize how much he really values you.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

-I was hoping for a caravan or the beach.

-They were all out of those.

-Are you sure this is gonna work?

-A couple of days, and Dad will be begging to have you back.

-But it's scary.

-I'll always know where you are.

-But what if Io get lonely?

Oh, Mr. Nitty!

Can I have a bedtime story?

-Don't push it.

-Ms. McCauley?

-Oh, Bertolini.

-It's the [inaudible].

The report you wanted.

-What?

You finished it already?

-I thought I'd stay behind, get it down for you--

-I really appreciate you staying late.

-Two heads are better than none.

-I'm not interrupting, am I?

-Not at all.

Just doing reports.

-Well, I'm calling in exterminators.

The-- uh-- bats have returned.

-Well, you can't get rid of them.

-Why ever not?

They are flying vermin.

-A protected species.

We must get this on record!

-Yes, yes.

Oh, and they were circling the south roof!

After you.

-Any sign?

-Not yet.

-Hello, hello.

Can't have you lying down there in the cold.

Don't I know you?

-Well, I--

-Don't tell me.

Weasel face.

-Name's Renfield, actually.

-Kicked you out, has he?

-I left of my own accord.

He's taken me for granted for far too long.

-Well, it just so happens I'm looking

for someone with your experience.

-Really?

-Yes, decent staff are so very hard to find these days.

Interested, Mr. Renfield?

-Yes, Master.

-Help him out.

Careful.

There were go.

Take a seat.

Now before you go, smile now.

-Oh, that's nice, isn't it?

It's got--

-Lovely.

Quick as you can to the farm.

You carry weasel face.

I've got a bad back.

Now, hurry up.

Come on.

Stop making decisions for yourself.

If I'd wanted a decision maker, I'd have employed someone else.

-I've brought hot chocolate.

-You are one in a million.

-OK.

-Malik!

What's up?

-Nothing.

That's the problem.

Bertolini is down when he should be Up there.

Your imbecilic plan has served only to thrust him further

into the bosom of Ms. McCauley's affections.

-Fancy spreading your wings?

We'll lure him out.

-OK, now hurry up.

The High Council's expecting a delivery.

Ustrel needs it soon.

Oh, for the love of Buffy.

There's no time for that now.

We can't be late.

And remember, breakages come out of your wages.

So don't pull your overtime sheet in this month.

-Committed to peace?

I think not.

-There they are-- two, a male and a female.

Just look.

A courting flight is beautiful.

-Little brother's turning into big brother.

-What do you want?

-Keeping an eye on biters in thirsty work.

1311 Chateau Mattia-- Dad won't miss it.

-OK, you definitely want something.

-Lansley's not the ambassador for peace

he'd like you to believe.

I think you should see this.

Come, brother.

-What have they done to him?

-It's a breather farm.

-Lansley's keeping them sedated, so they'll

keep producing blood.

That's sick.

I'm taking this to the High Council.

-Lansley and Ustrel go way back.

Lansley was elected because he was

supplying him with this blood.

It goes against every bone in my body to say this,

but perhaps we should tell the slayers.

-No.

-If the slayers find out about this,

they'll come after all of us.

Let them kill him--

-There are no slayers.

I mindwiped them all.

-I'm impressed.

Now biters are free to rule the world.

-A world not worth living in-- a world plunged into darkness.

-Don't be such a drama queen.

-We need the slayers.

Biters have to be kept in check.

This is what happens when we aren't.

-And that's a problem why?

-There will be bloodshed like we've never seen before.

-I'm salivating in anticipation.

-When the breathers have been drained,

we'll turn on ourselves.

Peaceful coexistence isn't just about protecting breathers.

It's about protecting us from ourselves.