Supernatural Meets Sue-pernatural:
A Mary-Sue Parody by Cassie Winchester
The Road So Far: If you've made it this far without tossing your cookies at deansmyhunkyxo19's terrible attempt at Supernatural fanfiction, then I commend you. I don't think we need a recap at this point… -shudder-
Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, and at the rate I'm going, I probably never will. All recognizable characters belong to Master Kripke and the wonderfully imaginative team of writers for Supernatural. I do, however own the comparative crap that follows: deansmyhunkyxo19, and the Terrible Trio: Roxxie, Cindy, and Mindy. They're up for auction next week on eBay, folks.
Author's Prelude: 'Prelude' just sounds so eloquent, doesn't it? Heh.
Just to warn you, this chapter's a bit darker than the others. It's still lighthearted, but I've added a bit more of a, well, Supernatural-esque feel to it. Also note this story will have a lot more… story to it, as I believe in character development as well as character bashing. Therefore, be prepared for possibly my longest chapter yet (edit: Holy crap, Batman! 30 full pages in Word! That's a record for me!) ! So, enjoy, and review, of course. Stick around for the Author's Note for an important opportunity for all of you to influence what happens in the next chapter!
Also, special shoutout to beautiful_dreamere: you might be seeing your hack sometime in the future of my fic. As in, the next chapter, perhaps? Just a little foreshadowing.
Please Note: The plot technically took place between Seasons 2 and 3, but I'm allowing the story to grow with the new seasons, meaning after I bring in the last of the older characters, I'm bringing in the new ones. Which means a possible angel appearance (or two) in the future… Also, the Colt has not been sold by that bitch Bela and is still in the boys' possession. Just for the sake of storytelling.
Chapter 8: Madness, Like Gravity…
Jo sighed. Oh, the damage was bad. Well, the only way to get through this was to plow forward, Jo decided to herself.
"Whose turn is it to read next?"
Silence fell thickly upon Room 12 of the Republic Inn. It permeated every part of the room, clogging the air, making it difficult for the room's occupants to breathe. Everyone seemed to be in some stage of post-traumatic stress.
In the middle of the room sat the source of all the suffering, the Mother of All Things Evil, the purple, magical, fuzzy diary. It just sat there on the coffee table, innocent and closed. No one in the room seemed to want to get any closer to its cheery, fur-encased lavender bindings. Jo, having just finished reading the last chapter of the fanfiction that lay within, sat perched on the armrest of the living room sofa, nervously chewing her nails. On the same sofa, Dean and Sam sat sprawled at opposite ends. Sam was still experiencing the after-effects of the toxic words of deansmyhunkyxo19 and Dean just looked downright pissed the hell off. John was in a similar state of mind as Dean, skulking in a dark corner of the room, brow furrowed as his mind worked furiously to try and find some way out of this literal hell on earth. And poor Bobby was still sitting in the armchair across, shell-shocked by the fact that he had been brought into 'rize of teh huntresss,' or however deansmyhunkyxo19 was spelling it these days. Ellen was trying in vain to comfort the poor man.
God, what a complete mess.
"So, did we ever get around to finally deciding who goes next?" Jo asked in a slightly high voice than normal, grimacing as she eyed the purple fanfiction before them all.
"If I remember correctly," Dean ventured tentatively, "It was Sammy before you, Jo, and Bobby came right after him, so technically, Bobby would be—" he eyed Bobby's comatose state, "You know what? I think that Bobby deserves a 'get out of hell free' card on this one."
Ellen nodded resignedly, passing a hand over her weary face. "I guess that leaves me, right? I read right after Bobby."
Dean nodded somberly, reaching out and grasping the binding of the book that had caused the residents of Room 12 so much grief over the past several hours. Ellen leaned forward, hands trembling, and held out her hand expectantly. Dean dropped the diary unceremoniously into the barmaid's upturned palm.
The whole room turned to face Ellen Harvelle as she slid her finger between the pages of the diary, looking for where they had left off last. "Before I begin, I don't suppose that I could use my 'get-out-of-hell-free' card on this one, can I?" Ellen tried in a half-joking, half-serious tone, plastering a weary smile on her face to garner some sympathy from her fellow hell-mates.
John laughed dryly.
"Two words. No. And, let's see, no." He ticked them off his fingers for emphasis. Sam and Dean nodded categorically. Jo just shrugged, not offering her mother any support, and started to gnaw her lower lip in anxiety.
Ellen sighed. "I thought it was worth a shot, anyway," she muttered gruffly, pursing her lips as she studied the fanfiction in her hands. She held the diary aloft, with as little skin contact as possible.
The whole room watched the book with baited breath, both anticipating and dreading what words deansmyhunkyxo19 would butcher next. A ringing sort of sound seemed to be filling the increasingly stifling air, making it harder and harder to concentrate. The journal pulsed, lavender cover seeming to grow an even darker shade of purple.
The diary began to work its magic on the unsuspecting victims in the room. The downward spiral had begun, just like it had planned…
Wait, what?! Was this journal a sentient object? That would be a great plot twist, eh?
Sam cocked his head, eyes glazing over as he stared, mesmerized, at the diary's jacket cover, at the gold lettering that glinted brightly there, twisting and undulating as he stared harder and harder at the text. Dean's eyes widened as the diary consumed his thoughts like the raging inferno of wildfire. The older Winchester became increasingly more agitated, running his hands through his hair and jiggling his legs wildly, further adding to the neighboring Jo's anxiety. Dean wanted—no, needed— to get closer to the diary, to hold it… John got this mad glint in his eye, as if he were thinking just how he would end someone's life, and enjoy the process. And Bobby… poor 'Booby' had retreated inside the deep recesses of his mind in an attempt to avoid deansmyhunkyxo19's treachery. Ellen was the one left holding the diary, a fate worse than death.
It was getting to them.
Slowly but surely, the fanfiction was getting to them.
And, Ellen realized with the gradual dawning of realization, there was nothing they could do about it. Hunters had never encountered this kind of dark material before… Where would it end? Would it end? Did this accursed book of evil even have an ending? Ellen immediately put an end to those kinds of thoughts. The thought of the fanfiction never ending hadn't occurred to the older Harvelle until this moment, and for good reason. That nightmare was enough to send even the most bloodthirsty demon back to the comparatively comfy confines of hell.
Suddenly, Ellen felt a trickle of something wet and warm slide down her left hand, which was holding deansmyhunkyxo19's journal. With a horrified gasp, she looked down at the diary in her hands, thinking it was urinating on her or something equally as disgusting (after all, who knew what this diary was capable of?). What she saw, however, was even worse.
The diary wasn't relieving its bodily functions over her hands.
It was gushing blood.
Fountains and geysers, gallons and oceans of warm, wet blood.
It spurted and pulsed erratically between the pages of the diary in dark crimson rivulets as if the thing had a heartbeat, coursing, sliding down her hands and arms and streaming to the ground without so much as a whisper, a trickle of sound. It was so much blood that it formed a puddle at her feet, a rapidly growing stain upon the motel room's carpet; it was dark, almost black, and had a thick, syrupy consistency. Ellen was frozen in place with fear, locked under the crushing weight of terror. She tried to relinquish her grip from the purple-bound cover of the fanfiction abomination, but her hands were welded on, as if her fingers and the bloody diary before her were one living entity. Ellen could hear the heartbeat thrumming from the diary now; it filled her senses, clouding her vision with it, smothering her ears with it, clogging her pores with it! It pounded on her eardrums with an increasingly frenzied tattoo and it was all she could do to open her mouth and try to scream… but sound seemed to be yet another thing trapped in the black hole that was stuffed thick with soundproof nothingness.
Why does no one else notice this? Ellen's brain screamed frenetically as she sat, rooted to the spot, blood still spraying from the open pages of the book and quickly, silently, coagulating on the floor. Look at them! The rest— Jo, Dean, Sam, John, Bobby—were all just sitting there, watching the diary in her hands raptly, as if the sight of the blood made them hungry.
Without warning, Dean rose swiftly and fluidly from his seat and started forward menacingly, arm outstretched towards Ellen, who couldn't move. John followed, like a dark shadow. Both had blank and glazed expressions blanketing their faces, which suddenly weren't their faces anymore; they had become grey and demonic in appearance, shuddering and warping, twisting and warping violently in place as if Ellen had hellhounds on her tail and was nearing the afterlife. The creatures staggered towards her, hands clawed and extended, ready to draw blood… More blood…
Ellen opened her mouth to scream once more—
Sharp, crisp knocks on the motel door startled everyone out of their, er, rather violent reveries.
With a shuddery gasp, Ellen looked down at her hands again only to see the diary resting there, perfectly purple and beatific, not a splash of bloody crimson in sight. Ellen let out a choked, low sob, and her hands trembled and gave way. The diary fell onto the coffee table with a hollow thud as Ellen rose and backed into the wall, trying to put as must distance as physically possible between herself and what had just turned into her worst nightmare.
"Ellen?" John queried, concern evident in his voice. "Are… are you alright?" Dean and he were in the same position they were in a few minutes ago, on the sofa and standing in the corner, respectively. Dean hadn't come closer to her and John wasn't trying to hurt her. Their faces looked as she had always remembered.
"It was all in my head," Ellen sighed a deep breath of relief, clutching her forehead and with quaking hands. Jo cautiously stepped forward, arms open. Gently taking her mother in her arms, Jo hugged her tightly to her, alarmed by what had just occurred. Silent tears coursed down Ellen's face as she crumpled into Jo's embrace.
"What happened?" Jo asked her obviously shaken mother with worry. "It was the diary, wasn't it? What did it do?" The rest of the room, concerned as well, held themselves back but listened closely to Ellen.
"It—I—The diary made me see things," Ellen whispered through barely parted lips. "Blood. So m-much blood. Everywhere. I was trapped, I couldn't move, I couldn't scream—" Ellen's voice broke and she shuddered, remembering the claustrophobic moment more clearly than ever. She slowly sat down on the arm of the chair Bobby was sitting in.
Dean swallowed hard. To see a hardass wife of a hunter like Ellen Harvelle shaken by a supernatural object was not something to be taken lightly. The fanfiction had shown a much darker, sadistic side that Dean had hoped only manifested itself in the actual story; it was quickly becoming clear that this diary was no mere fanfiction. It was proving itself to be a very powerful, possibly sentient, dark object. One that was biding its time, waiting for the right time to reveal its hand…
Dean shook his head. It was just a damn book. A purple, fuzzy, hideous fanfiction of a book that just happened to have magical powers that wrote the story as you read it and protected itself from harm. But still, just a book.
Dean's inner voice snorted at this feeble attempt to reason with sanity. You see crazy crap like this every day, Dean, he reminded himself. It's just like any other gig. Find out what the book's weaknesses are, exploit it, kill it. Simple.
Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that, cowboy.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The impatient caller knocked thrice more upon the motel door. Sam heaved a dramatic sigh and, shooting Ellen a concerned look, stood up to answer the door.
"I'll get it." He muttered, seemingly to no one, and headed towards the hallway.
"Well?" Dean interrogated Ellen impatiently, leaning forward and giving her a searching sweep of his eyes. "What actually happened? You never said."
Ellen didn't say a word. Her lips were pressed together so tightly that it would have taken a crowbar, three firefighters, and a whole lot of Crisco to get her lips pried open.
"Ellen?" A gruff voice at her elbow questioned. Well, well, well. Seems like Bobby had decided to come back to us, after the shock of being introduced into deansmyhunkyxo19's last chapter. "You alright?"
Ellen barked a short, nervous laugh, but her eye twitched as she tried to look at the fanfiction but couldn't quite do it.
"Uh, guys?" Sam called from the doorway in a slightly more strained voice than normal.
John waved a dismissive hand. "Not now, Sam. Ellen, you have to tell us exactly what happened. Anything you remember could help us understand the damned book better. Maybe even learn how it thinks, how to kill it."
Ellen opened her mouth to speak, couldn't find the words, and closed it.
"C'mon, Mom," Jo soothed gently, grabbing her mother's hand, "It's alright. The more we know, the better chance we have of preventing it from happening again."
Ellen nodded and tried to muster the courage.
"Guys?" Sam's voice came into the living room, again sounding strained. "I know now's not the best time, but…"
"Sam, shut up!" Dean hollered back to the hallway—
— "Why don't you listen to the boy?" a voice echoed into the room, sliding in like a cloud of black smoke. Oh, wait, maybe that was a cloud of black smoke.
Dean and John jumped up at the same time without thinking. They knew that voice all too well.
"Bobby!" Dean yelled, grabbing his Colt 1911 semi-automatic and making a mad dash toward the door, to Sam. Bobby, all post-fanfictum depression forgotten, had already pulled out the newly restored Colt and was up and ready to take on their new visitor. John quickly followed Dean in a low crouch, pressing a finger to his lips to signal the rest of the room to keep quiet. (A/N: Yes, I know that the Colt is gone, but for the sake of the story let's just pretend Bela Talbot never happened)
Dean released the safety on his gun. The cool metal felt cool and familiar in his grip, a comfort despite the fact that he knew emptying the gun's chamber of silver bullets wasn't going to protect anyone in this room.
"Not so fast, Rambo," the disembodied voice chuckled as Sam backed slowly into the room first, hands on top of his head in a gesture of submissiveness. "Don't want to get the poor Samsel in distress caught in the cross-fire, do we?"
Bobby and Dean gave a shout of alarm as their guns were wrenched from their grip and tossed across the room, out of sight and reach. The rest of the room's occupants found themselves thrown bodily against the poinsettia-embellished walls of the motel room.
"Aw, crap," Jo breathed, finally putting two and two together (snaps for blondie!). "That's not…"
"…A demon!" Ellen finished for her, struggling in vain against her invisible bonds.
"Not just any demon!" Dean panted, writhing against the wall like a madman. "It's—" His head cracked forcefully against the wall by the demon's powers and he grunted in pain, vision swimming.
"—It's Him!" John snarled, animalistic rage etched into every shadow of his face. "Azazel!"
Jo and Ellen gasped, Bobby and Sam cursed, and Dean roared in frustration as he bucked violently against his demonic fetters.
The demon—The Demon—stepped into the motel room, revealing himself at last. He began a slow clap.
"Took you long enough," the Yellow Eyed Demon chuckled quietly, casting a golden eye over the occupants of the room with barely masked disdain. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten an old friend."
"You bastard," growled Bobby from his position in the corner of the room. "How did you come back? Dean killed you! We saw you die!"
"He shot me right through the heart, to be precise, if you theoretically suppose that I had one," Azazel said casually, as if he were simply commenting on the weather instead of planning Armageddon, Round II. "Same me, different meat suit. And yet… here I am." The demon finished, patting his new, possessed body with a wicked curve to his lips that scarcely resembled a smile.
He looked about the room with circumspection. The demon's brow furrowed suddenly in mild bewilderment. "Which is… where, exactly?" His eyes flickered, giving off the appearance of a nocturnal animal as opposed to a demon.
Sam laughed harshly, the noise coming out of his mouth sounding more like a savage growl than laughter. "You mean you don't know?" Yeah, okay buddy, whatever, was left unsaid.
The YED sighed and rolled his golden luminescent eyes as if he were dealing with a two-year-old.
"No, I do not," Azazel mused thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against his chin in wonderment. "One moment, I'm down in hell's kitchen sipping from a nice steamy mug of celebratory 'Congratulations, you just got shot with the Colt by Rambo and Arnold Schwarzenegger's love child, so enjoy purgatory for the rest of your unnatural life,'" the demon snorted, "…and the next thing I know, my soul, or lack thereof, is being yanked back—quite unceremoniously, I might add—to your bright and shiny middle ground, full of puppies and kittens and rainbows. Can't say I oppose this rather favorable relocation, to be honest," Azazel admitted with a wry expression.
"But… the Colt is supposed to kill demons! You're not supposed to exist!" Sam spluttered, vein throbbing in his temple as he violently thrashed.
Azazel threw Sam a look which clearly read, "Bitch, please." "It takes more than some holy sacred bullet to kill someone like me, boy." He stated simply. The rest of the room gaped.
"Anyhoo, so where was I?" The Yellow Eyed Demon pondered. "Ah, yes. Hell. Well, torture in hell makes Gitmo seem like a five-star spa and massage. You, of all people, would know that, wouldn't you Deano? You know how much they carve, how much they slice fleshy bits and tender pieces out of you each day, then sew you up to start the endless process all over again." Yellow-Eyes addressed the wide-eyed Dean, who stilled his feral attempts to shake free of the demon's grasp.
"And you, John," Azazel continued, savoring every flicker of pain and emotion that flashed in John's Winchester's face. "You know how there is no concept of time, no sense of days or nights or weeks or years. It all seems like the passage of millennia. An eon filled with suffering and carnage the likes of which most of you—" The Yellow Eyed Bastard emphasized the word most, and got the satisfaction of a flinch from both son and father, "—have never experienced."
Everyone's mouth hung open, except for Dean and John. No one dared speak or make eye contact with either Winchester.
"So, really," Yellow Eyes concluded, drawing himself up to his full height, "Earth, huh? Pretty nice change of pace. I'd still like to know the answer to my question. Where exactly am I?"
Yellow Eyes simply crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for their reply.
There was a long, weighty pause, in which no one dared answer the YED's explanation.
"You do realize that you're so obviously shitting us, right?" Dean, cocky as ever, finally burst out. "No one's buying your crap, you bastard." The others nodded in agreement.
"I most assuredly shit you not, wiseass," YED frowned in concentration, and Dean cried out as his skull was once more painfully rammed into the floral wallpaper.
Sam struggled to summon his powers, to get the YED to cough some of that black demon smoke out of his body. But it felt as if something was… scrambling his brain, erecting a barrier between his brain and his powers, making it impossible to concentrate.
Azazel seemed to sense Sam's train of thought and turned his contemplative gaze upon his failed protégé. "Can't have you Hulking out and blasting me back to hell, now, can I Sammy," Yellow Eyes chuckled, face darkening. "You were one of my best. But those strong powers of yours won't work against your maker, I'm sorry to say. My profane blood runs through your veins. That part, at least, I maintain control over. So please, don't try anything stupid. Or I will have to kill you and all of your pals here. Not necessarily in that order."
Sam struggled even harder, ignoring the searching looks from the rest of the occupants in the room at this startling revelation. Looks like Sam is not the only Winchester son with some explaining to do… Sam avoided John's gaze. If his father had questions, he would just have to take a number and get in line. Sam, frustrated, ceased his struggles and just stared the YED square in the face. Where the hell was Ruby?
"If you're gonna kill us," Jo added flippantly, squirming to get loose from where the demon had her against the wall, "Please make sure that you do it before we have to finish that fanfiction over there!" Her gaze slid unwontedly to the purple journal on the coffee table. Azazel, unable to resist, took a brief glance in the direction of the fanfiction, too.
"That's odd," Yellow Eyes commented, tilting his head to the side. "I have a feeling that this—fanfiction, you called it?—is the reason that I'm here." He stepped towards the coffee table, gazing down at 'teh riz of the huntress.'
John was genuinely bemused at this piece of information. "You mean that this diary somehow has the ability to summon people? Or, well, things?" He corrected himself, eyeing the Yellow Eyed Demon cautiously.
"Why else would I be here?" The YED questioned. "I was powerful, but not that powerful. Even I can't summon myself to higher ground."
"It makes sense, though," Bobby intoned gruffly in a low tone, straining his head to turn towards the rest of them. "John, you don't remember how you got here, either, and you're supposed to be dead, too!"
"So what exactly is this fanfiction about, anyway?" Azazel asked, eyeing each of the people in the room in turn. Everyone kept quiet. Azazel sighed impatiently. "Look, if I release you from my hold, will you tell me about that purple fuzzy thing? Is that enough of a gesture of trust or am I going to have to co-write a 'Whoops, My Bad' ballad with Christian Bale and Chris Brown?" (A/N: In case you didn't get either celebrity reference, Google "Bale Out" or "Chris Brown assault investigation" to understand)
"For starters," Dean grumbled, wishing it was just him, the Yellow-Eyed Demon, and an empty room. "Then we'll see who hurts who…" Dean muttered to himself with a wicked grin, imagining the scene in his mind.
"Okay, fine," Azazel sighed, already bored. With all the grace of a pile of bricks, everyone crashed to the floor in a jumble of limbs.
Wasting no time, Sam quickly lunged across the floor, somersaulted with surprising agility, and snatched the Colt from its place behind the sofa. He held the antique revolver aloft, zeroing in right between the YED's eyes.
Slowly, deliberately releasing the hammer, Sam growled, "You try anything at all, you son of a bitch, and I'll splatter paint this motel room with your grey matter. It might not kill you, but I'm curious to see how you'll get out of hell a second time." The shaggy-haired Winchester sat down rigidly across from Azazel on the sofa, leaving the demon staring down the barrel of the gun. He shot the demon a look so full of malice even Yellow Eyes looked a little worried. The look said, You move, I blow you sky-friggin'-high.
Azazel, pleased by Sam's show of cojones, decided against snapping his neck, and allowed the little pea shooter to remain trained on his forehead, even if it only meant Sam was a little less problematic.
"Looks like we're all in the same boat, Freaky Eyes," Jo crossed her arms, staring the demonic bastard down. "Only this time, if you rock the boat too much, you'll drown. And I think you know that none of us will save you. Just warning you ahead of time."
Azazel nodded solemnly, then grabbed a stool from the hallway and dragged it into the living room. "Tell me everything. I want to know the situation with this… book thing."
And, just like that, Azazel, the demonic sonofabitch from hell who had killed Mary Winchester and torn apart a family, dripped demon blood into the mouths of dozens of innocent children, and attempted to amass a demonic army to invoke judgment day, was suddenly on their side because of some damn purple fuzzy fanfiction diary belonging to deansmyhunkyxo19. Pretty damn convenient, wouldn't you say?
The occupants of Room 12 quickly and efficiently gave the YED the dirt on 'Rise of the Huntress,' sparing no details when it came to the particularly gruesome parts in the plot. Dean, especially, seemed eager to share anything that would seem to make Azazel uncomfortable in any way.
…Which is why he took so much pleasure in informing the newest addition to the group about the rules of the game.
"...so you see, Azazel, buddy, pal, friend," Dean uttered darkly, no hint of friendliness on his face. "It's your turn to read from the book of the dead." John leaned forward and tossed the book to the wide-eyed demon, who caught it gingerly.
"And… if I say no?" Azazel questioned, for the hell of it.
"Bang," Sam mimed blowing the demon's brains out. Looks like our little sidekick geekboy (or should we say, Samsel in distress?) has finally stepped up to the plate…
"Ah. You do know I could kill all of you, right here, right now, don't you? Even with that BB gun of yours, Sam," The YED emphasized, amused.
The rest of the room nodded, unimpressed.
"But… I won't," Yellow Eyes continued, "Because, honestly, I'm curious now. I want to know why I was extracted from hell."
"The only way to know for sure…" Bobby prodded, "Is to read the damn book!"
The YED reached into the breast pocket of the flannel shirt his host was wearing and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. "Now, let's see… Where are we here…"
The demon cracked open the pages of the violet monstrosity and the words began to write themselves across the page. Azazel cleared his throat and opened his mouth. Everyone in the room braced for impact.
Oh yeahhhhhh boi that's rite deansmyhunkxo19 is sooo bringin sexy bake! Wooo! New chap. We're relaly gettin' into it nows cuz the plot is getting deeper n dakrer.
Raisin the Huntress biatches:
"Wow," Yellow Eyes raised his eyebrows, then furrowed them as he skimmed through what he had just read. "This is just… well, this doesn't even attempt to imitate English, does it?"
"Yeah, we established that about six chapters ago," Sam snorted, cowering behind his lucky pillow at the end of the sofa. "You get used to the way deansmyhunkyxo19 writes after a while, unfortunately." He kneaded his pillow, knuckles white as he stared apprehensively at the fanfiction's jacket cover.
"Hurry up and start reading!" Jo urged hoarsely, on the edge of her seat. "I know it's only been about half an hour since we read the last chapter, but it feels like five months!"
"No need to get uppity, blondie," YED cast Jo a dark look. Jo could practically hear the flesh sizzling off her face with the intensity of his glare. "Good things come in time. I mean, look at Sammy, right? Waited a long time for that one, and look at how he's turned out."
"Read the story before I ventilate your brain pan," Sam gutturally snarled, waving the Colt in the YED's face.
So teh last tiem we was at teh physic twinz mansions and booby tried 2 rapes n' then kill ROxi! I no sad rite? And then deany Beany kicked that nasty pervy mofo's ass and tied his sorry butt up. So now we gonna go to the interrogatin seen, in teh dungeon next 2 dean & Roxxie's bedroom that they us 4 sex play. But now it used 4 toturing_ Boby. YAY torture is fun!
"Oh, God," Jo said, already looking a little green. "If deansmyhunkyxo19 describes any torture-slash-sex scenes I think I'm gonna owblay my unkschay."
"Jo, I never saw you as someone with a weak stomach," Sam remarked in surprise.
"Oh, no, it's not the actual description of torture that would get to me," Jo tossed her hair in scorn. "It's the fact that we're reading another chapter of this itshay."
"What's with the pig latin?" Bobby queried, bushy brow raised.
Jo shrugged. "Keeps my mind off the issue at hand."
so booby the perv huntra was there and tied up to a chiar. Dean is currently beeting the crap out of him.
"whatdooyouu want from meh!" roxxi screamed gutterally (A/n: Has any1 seen Teh Dark Kight? Batman is sooooo hawt Christchin Bale is SEX in Batman costume I just wanna rip it off his body. This is like the interrogatin scene in TDK only massively awesome because I WRTOE IT. just thought I'd say that lol random I now jk lol!) at perv!booby as dean threw a nother puch. SNAP goes bobbie's nose. Blood was like everyware.
They were in cold, dark room, wit only one lite. Booby was in center of the room, bond, gag in moth. Spammich (who was not unconsious any more), cinty, and minty were in the corner of teh interrogasion room, alternateing between hot sexy wet kisses between the 3 and watchnig deany beany and roxxie beat teh craps out of booby's face. finally, the Sandwich was gettin' sum female action!!
Sam, at this point, was past defending his sex life. Sleeping with a demon seems to have that effect on people, strangely enough.
Speaking of demons, where was Sam's demonic sex-buddy now? Was Ruby even going to show up? Sam itched to call her again, but decided against it for the moment. He settled instead for burrowing deeper into his selected corner of the sofa, gripping the poor throw pillow hard enough that the fibers were beginning to fray.
"whatdooyouu want from me!" roxxie repeated, shoting in bobbie's face as Dean cracked his large, sexy, man nuckles and popped bobbi one in the fat natsy jaw.
"babe, he ain't talking, Yo." Dean explains in a soothin voices, calmly wipin teh blood off his knucky wuckys.
Dean let out a low, painful groan that sounded like a combination of a dying giraffe and a bellowing ox.
"Why?" He whined, dropping his face into his hands and rubbing them across his bloodshot eyes. "Why must she describe my knuckles as 'knucky-wuckys'?" He cradled said knuckles, eying them as if he expected deansmyhunkyxo19's words to magically transform them into something glittery and hideous.
Bobby leaned across the table and gave Dean a gentle pat on the back for support.
Sam, on the other hand, was laughing so hard that no sound was coming out of his mouth. "Nuh-knuck—!" He couldn't even finish the deansmyhunkyxo19-invented word without bursting out into riotous laughter.
Even the Yellow Eyed Demon quirked a semblance of a smile.
Passing a hand over his face to erase his expression of mirth, Sam noticed that the rest of the room was staring at him. He shrugged. "What?" He turned to his brother and cracked a toothy grin.
Dean saw this and smacked Sam in the back of the head. Hard. Sam let out a very uncouth slew of curses and gradually fell silent, rubbing the back of his skull.
The YED started to roll his eyes upward as if asking the heavens for patience, then thought better of this irony; instead he turned to page of the fanfiction and continued to read.
"Do you has ;better suggestin, baby boo face?" Roxxie addreses her darling sex machine dean. "cuz I'm sorta running out now. I am only so smart. I want answers! Teh Booby just WONT TALK DAMMIT!" She pouted, tossing her gold and silver low-lighted, silvery black and blond high-lighted stick-straight microbraided curls around her skiny (but NOT ANORAXICK!! roxy is 2 cool 4 dat. She into bolemia, which is wat all the celebs do. So much coolar than anoryuckia.) slender shouldurs.
"Great," John grimaced, passing a hand over his weary face. "So now deansmyhunkyxo19 not only promotes blatant stupidity and disregard for common rules the English language—"
"—and a little something called 'spellcheck'—" Jo added derisively—
"—but now she condones bulimia. That's just all kinds of messed up." Dean finished for his father, shaking his head almost in sadness.
"Calm down my dahling, shnookums," Deany beany used his fave new nickname for his sexy hawt were-vamp lover. "I has a plan! I gonna to take this bag, here, U C, and put over teh rapist's face. Like so, watch and learned, toots."
Then Dean placed teh black balg that he wuz holdin his in hands and put over booby's head.
"O, okay, I am follow so far," roxxi notted. "Bag over face. Got ya."
"so thens I take dis buckle rite here," dean held up a buckle full of water—
Azazel paused, brow scrunched, as he silently re-read that certain passage. His mouth formed the word "buckle?" as if trying to understand the reasoning behind deansmyhunkyxo19's particular word choice.
"I think she means 'bucket,' am I right?" Sam explained to the confused YED in a bored tone.
The Yellow-Eyed Demon heaved a dramatic sigh. "I don't know anymore. I don't know what to think. I thought that I was the most badass mother this side of perdition and now… well," He eyed the purple fuzzy diary in his grip with something akin to reverence. "I'm beginning to question my line of work."
"Whoa, now," Dean held up his hands and stared wide-eyed at the demon standing at the head of the coffee table. "You choose now to decide to have a mid-life crisis? You couldn't have had this issue crop up, say, 25 years ago? Before you tried to take over the world with your half-assed demonic army?"
"I mean, let's face it," Sam reminded Azazel pointedly. "You aren't exactly built for charity work."
Azazel opened his mouth to angrily retort, thought about what Sam had just said, and found that the younger Winchester was, in fact, correct. For lack of anything to say, the demon tossed Sam a luminescent glower that clearly read: "shut up."
The Yellow Eyed Demon, speechless?
What was this world coming to?
"so thens I take dis buckle rite here," dean held up a buckle full of water—
–"and then I DROWN THAT MOFO!" Dean dump full buckle of h2h over bobbi's perv raepist head. Booby gagled and gargled and scream underneath baggie.
"Are you kidding me?" Ellen's jaw was practically in her lap. "Waterboarding?"
"I'm surprised that she even knows what that is," Jo marveled, tossing the purple fanfiction a suspicious look.
"Psh," Sam huffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in utter disdain. "She thinks that describing torture will make her story more hardcore or something?"
John raised a dusky eyebrow and muttered snidely, "The only torture in this story is us having to listen to this crap being read to us by a demon, of all things!"
"Hey, don't take your anger out on me," Azazel looked affronted. "Your prejudice against demons is most disheartening."
"Oh, yeah," Dean leaned forward from his seat on the couch, widening his snapping eyes and getting in the Yellow Eyed Demon's face. His lip curled and brows furrowed in that classic expression he got when he was about to lay it into someone.
Sarcasm dripped from his lips like honey as he continued, "Yeah, it must have slipped my mind… because y'know, demons are such gosh-darn friendly and God-fearing folk. I seem to have forgotten how many times I've met up with a demon, chatted a bit about Justin Timberlake, then sat down and braided each other's hair and talked about our feelings!"
Jo allowed a giggle to escape her lips before Ellen slapped a hand over her daughter's mouth. The look that the Yellow Eyed Demon shot the young Harvelle was so dark and raw with unbridled malevolence and vast nothingness that it made her heart stutter and wither in fear. Yellow Eyes was not someone to mock, lightly or seriously, and that realization made Jo worry just how far Dean could push his buttons before something snapped. Like his smartass neck, for instance.
"Your kind aren't exactly what we'd call honest folk," Bobby stressed in a deceptively placating tone as he eyed the Yellow Eyed Demon's reaction to Dean's wisecrack.
"'My kind?'" Azazel murmured, and the room went still as a tomb as they waited for the axe to drop. "'My kind?'" A low chuckle dredged itself from the depths of his chest as the demon kept his voice seemingly light and casual. "Sammy boy didn't seem to have a problem with 'my kind' when he slept with one, did he?" The YED swiveled his host's head to alight his gaze upon the startled younger Winchester, who was completely silent.
"Wh-what?" John whispered, having trouble digesting this last chunk of information. "W-what?"
The demon's eyes narrowed with wicked amusement as he watched John's expression darken with anger.
"Shut up," Sam murmured, barely audible, but there was an undertone of malice and warning beneath his words. If the Yellow-Eyed Demon heard it, he didn't acknowledge it.
"Tell him, Samuel," Azazel purred, a dangerous smile dancing across his curved lips. "Tell him how you screwed the demon bitch."
Dean stiffened, anger coursing through his veins on behalf of his younger brother and, by default, Ruby. It didn't matter that Sam was slutting around with the body-swapping demon, whose motives Dean had not yet sussed out. It came down to this: insult Dean Winchester's baby bro and get your ass handed to you in twenty pieces. That's just how things went down in Deantown. His fingers tightened themselves into fists.
Meanwhile the Yellow Eyed Demon blinked slowly and cocked a half-grin at Dean's enraged expression.
"Shut up," Sam hissed again, more assertively this time, through clenched teeth. His finger hovered over the trigger of the antique Colt revolver but his eyes were cast down.
"Tell your father, daddy dearest, John Winchester that you slept with a filthy,demon WHORE," Azazel's luminescent eyes never left Sam's face as he spoke, his words echoing through Sam's ears. He gloried in his revenge. Hell, he loved his job.
Sam was shaking with rage, but his aim was true. With an angry retort that reverberated throughout the room, the Colt spewed a rapid fire of not one, not two, but three consecrated bullets from its chamber. Azazel never had a chance.
"Sam, NO!!!" Dean didn't know why he shouted it, but it didn't matter. It was too late now.
Two bullets hit his chest and torso, punching holes through his chest cavity in a splatter of red mist. The third hit the demon's skull dead center, and the force of the shot at such close range whiplashed Azazel's head back with a sickening crack of spinal vertebrae. The demon's host body crackled with supernatural energy and the demon's yellow eyes flickered and faded to the host's natural blue.
Suddenly, the bullet wound flared a bright, sickening lavender color… the same color as the purple fuzzy fanfiction in Azazel's hands. The wound slowly shrank in size, and the bullet which Sam had fired pushed out of the demon's skull and fell into his lap. With a smaller flare of purple light, the wound closed up as if it were never there.
If there was such a thing as negative sound, Room 12 had it. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Nobody dared breathe.
"Ouch," Azazel groaned, having recovered from being shot in the head pretty damn quickly. He threw Sam a dark look, or at least tried. It seemed that such exertion caused the demon slight pain, as he clutched his head where the bullet had pierced the skull. He shook his head and his eyes flashed back to their yellow luminescence. "You mind giving me a heads up next time you decide to play shotgun piñata with my skull, yeah?"
Sam gaped. "H-how?" The Colt slipped from his grasp and fell to the dusty motel carpet with a thud. Useless.
His question was wordlessly answered as the fanfiction on the ground decided to emit a soft lavender glow, the air around it filling with the putrid, unsettling color. The air in the room crackled with electricity… or magic?
"I think that the diary did it…" Jo whispered through her fingers, eyes the size of turntables.
"If Sam is over his little temper tantrum," the Yellow Eyed Demon sighed, leaning down for the still-glowing fanfiction of evil, "I'd like to see how the rest of Raisin the Huntress biatches: goes."
The demon received no answer. Realizing that the res of the room was still shell-shocked, he huffed in impatience and opened the fanfiction to the correct page. Readjusting his spectacles, which had been jerked askew with the force of the gunshot.
Azazel cleared his throat, and the noise made the rest of the room assume fixed positions as they steadied themselves for deansmyhunkyxo19's mutant of a story.
"so thens I take dis buckle rite here," dean held up a buckle full of water—
–"and then I DROWN THAT MOFO!" Dean dump full buckle of h2h over bobbi's perv raepist head. Booby gagled and gargled and scream.
"oh hahahah hahahaha hahahaha OMG I TOTES GET IT!!!!1112 Its like drowning without like drownin" Roxxie murmured loutly, as bobby sobbed, drownding but not really. "you is totes a super genious, you older, hawtter Winchester, you. You have, like 100 IQ poits or something. That's like Double the normal amot. Baby I loves you, Deany beany."
"urg baby I love u so much I heart heart heart you. You complete me," Dean murmured, black eyes glittering like goldin orbs of lite."you compelt me in a way that is so complete that I am compeltly in love with uuuuuu! Like, completely, babe."
Dean was attempting to control his gag reflex as soon as he heard the words, 'you complete me.' Three words a guy hopes never to hear, nor utter, in his lifetime.
Looks like Dean Winchester has commitment issues.
The older Winchester was so disturbed by his fiction counterpart's choice of words that he didn't even bother correcting the fact that he did not, as deansmyhunkyxo19 insisted, have "goldin orbs" for eyes.
And roxxi jumping into Deany bean;'s luvving arms and they kissed on teh lips. They tongues melted 2gether as 1 and it was so sexy HAWT was sooooooooooo sooooooooooooooooo sexy hawt and hackin sweet that SAMMich cried big fat baby tears at the bee-yootiful ness of his older bro's kiss. Even cinty and minty were touched by this show of tonguely love.
"Tongely love, eh?" Sam smirked, eyebrows raised high on his already high forehead. "Seems to be a lot of that going around."
"You know what else might go around?" Dean growled, sinking further into his sofa seat. "Your oversized head!" He punched Sam in the arm.
Even booby shet a tear at they sexy hawt sweet kiss of roxy&deany boo boo face.
O maybe he crying b/c he is being tortuerd.
"Nmmmm that was hacking sweet!" dan yelled happily. His golden bronzed sexy toned man muscley arms were wrapped around roxxi's thin as a pin waist. "it was just like I felt a connextion.! But not like just our tongs, like w/everything!"
"OMG RLY! ME 2" roxy smild. "our tongs fit PERFECTly 2getha like they were tong mates!"
"OMG I HAS AN EPIPHANINNY!" deen jumped up and down in excitements. "our tongs are tong mates! That must mean our soulz R 2!"
"Wow. Great deduction there, Roxxy," Ellen rolled her eyes. "Obviously, touching tongues is like touching souls."
"Obviously," the Yellow Eyed Demon snorted derisively.
"OMG we is soul m8! It all make sense" roxxie stareed to cry beautifuy lady tears. Maxscara steaked down her ivory white smooth pale craemy skins and she never looks more beeyootiful to dan, who want to sex her rite now. Horny doggy, deany beany is.
"Uh, yeah. Pretty much," Dean nodded proudly.
"OMG WE IS sole M8's!" Dean says, pretty blue eyes fills with tears 2. ("Green! GREEN eyes!" Dean shouted to the ceiling in a wounded lament). They hug and make out sum mor, almost getting to third base but dean only gets 2 second. But roxxis toatally natural springy double FF cup boobs are so awesum it's like it was third base, so dan was happy.
"Natural double FFs?" Dean looked like he was in heaven.
Jo smacked him in the back of the head and jerked him back to reality.
"HELLLOOOOOOOOOO??? DUH I AM A TORTUED PERSON OVER HUR. I NEEDS ATTN!!! MKAY thanks!" Booby called from tied up chair. He still had the black bag over his ugly face, so it was okay that the world didn t have too look upon it.
Bobby didn't know whether to look insulted that deansmyhunkyxo19 thought his face to be ugly, or relieved that he was left unmolested by any of her Mary Sues.
"u rady to talk, wipe ass?" dean roard, now that he was done the kissing of the roxxy's sugar lips. "Or does teh Deany need to smack a bitch?"
"belive me," sammich whimperd from his corner w/sindy and minty. "u donna wonna get a beech slap from Dean."
"I no listens to you fockers!" teh evil hairy man dictated from his char tied up. "u all gonna die! Death to infidels! DIE UGLY WEREVAMP BITCH DIE! ALLLAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
"Okay, that is so racist that it's not even funny," Jo shook her head in shame. "Making such references to the Middle Eastern culture is not only racist and bigoted, but just plain ignorant. Not every terrorist is Muslim, you know, deansmyhunkyxo19. You should learn some tolerance." Jo addressed the fuzzy notebook in Azazel's hands with a stern, condescending tone.
"Hey, Jo," Dean said in a stage whisper, "You know, this is just an educated guess, but I don't think that deansmyhunkyxo19 can hear you. Just, you know, something to keep in mind for the future." He shrugged and winked.
Roxxy frownded at this rascist remark. Booby was such a racist towards werevamps it wasn't even funny. Stooped terrorist. Dean saw this racism to his girl & went off like teh shit of ape.
"Yo g! Y' aint gonna rap to my ho like dat homie!" Dean was freakin pissing off.
Cinty & mindy were also outrage evil bobby and his evilness. They decided to speak.
"He be talkin' wack. Be he on crack?" Cindey fuméd to her physic sis, crossing her arms ofer her faek (double AAA) boobies.
"I doth no not my twinny twin twin, but he hath numerous hares on his chinny chin chin," Minday replyed, tossing her jet black haris all over the place in angre. "Ergo, he is a nasty raepist, agreed?"
"Agreed, my sister. Now let's smoke sum weed," Cindy nodedd. They pull out peace pipe and a superbong an smoked some with teh sammich, who immediately passed out from over-exershion and highness of cannabis.
"Well, that explains a lot," John muttered, crossing his arms. "Deansmyhunkyxo19 obviously wrote this piece of manure while high."
"Let's hope that this level of stupidity doesn't come naturally," Bobby groaned.
Dean whelked over to teh booby and raised his open palm. "U no 1 makes my ROxxi frown! It makes her get worry lines on her 4head!" Dean roared like a crazy leon in the jungle. "BEECH! I SLAP YOU! I SLAP U! I SLAP YOU IN TEH FACE! MY SLAPS SO SLAPPY IT SLAP UR MOMMAS FACE OFF!" He shake his hand in front of boobsies face, like a threat. He is berry scarry when angry. But also sexy HAWT.
"OK OK I will tell u, but u gotta let me free, yo," booby whimped. "Plz, take teh bag off meh face. I will tell u everytinkle u needs 2 know, yo."
"Agreed," Roxxie struttled over in her six-inch platfor heels that accentuhated her toned legs and ass.
"Woah roxxi," Dean growled, turned on by her toned lags and ass. "I am turned on by ur toned legs an ass!"
Roxxie gigled, gave a Dean kiss on his face. She and pulls off the black bag from Boobby's face.
An booby, cuz he really was a pussy, gave up enemi's secrets 2 the beeyootiful sexy roxxi.
"I tells you every1," bobbee wildy screamed in shear panic. "Donut kill me, O powerfull 1!"
"Why u try to rapes n then kill the Chosen one?" Cinty and Mindy giggled, still very high from all the weed they be smokin'
"U R pure of heart," booby said, lip trembilling. "U R also very powerfull becuz u r hybrid like btween werewolve and vamprie. So dat's y they wanna kill u. U 2 powerfull."
"'They?' Who dat?" Roxxy question, battling her pretty long eyelashed witch surrounded her gorgeouse jade blue eyez.
"Durrrr, like they werewolve and vampries, of cose." Booby rolls his eyes and laughed a mad giggle at roxxi.
"I have never, ever heard Bobby giggle," Sam gaped in wonderment, eyebrows raised even further. "Really."
"Damn straight," Bobby growled, crossing his arms in defiance.
Dean pulled out of his waitsband his gas-operated, .41-magnum semi-automatic titanium gold-plated steel-chromed custom-gripped silver-bulleted Desert Eagle bang-bang gun and pistol whupped tat SOB cross his ugly mug. U could see the raepist losing teeth as Deany Beany smacked that mutha 'cross the face and his front tooths were knocked out of his pie hoal.
"Hey, phuysics who are stupider and uglyer than roxxie, who is a goddess!" Dean called 2 cindy & mindy, who were disappeared in a cloud of the weed smoke."You got anyfink on ur physic radar 'bout this shit he be talkin?"
Soudainemente (A/n: tat means SUDDNELY for u non-french speaking one-languige itiots out ther) they herd a cry from teh corner of teh torture chambre. Cindy and Minty were going into conniptions'. i.e. They were spazzing like Dean spazzes whenever someone tryes to maim his fugley black peace of shite car. Which, I dunno, is kinda stooped b/c who would want to jack that fokked up piece of scarp metal?
Dean lost it. He let out a stream of expletives that would have made South Park proud. "That bitch thinks she can come in here, insult my baby, and get away with it?"
It took the combined efforts of Sam, John, and Jo to restrain the older Winchester brother from attempting to strangle the diary.
"Stop being rude," Yellow Eyes snapped angrily. "I want to get through this nightmare without interruptions."
Sam was still K'O'd on teh flore. He don't handle excitements well.
"Ohmygizzle," Roxxy crooned, pouting her lips in consentration. "Methinks they are having some visionaries!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111111122221"
Then cindy and Mindy stopped shaking and said in uniform, creeepishly creepy creap voice, like creepers, ("OKAY!" Jo groaned. "We get that they are creepy!") "RoxxannE, daughter-0eth of Foxxanne, Oh leader of resistance and chosen-eth 1. This hath be ur destiny. This be-eth the legit prophecy, for shizzle-eth. Like, for reals-eth. U R most pure-eth of hart, and it is ur hart & ur love that will either save or destroy-eth thine world. Don';t let those nasty-eth werewolves or vampries get their fugly-eth hands on thy hart, cuz if they do, then every1 good will DIE!"
"Oh, joy. Another prophecy," John snarkily added.
"Goody," Ellen intoned monotonously.
Roxxie gasps at this alarm news, and buried her face in Dean's strong man-chest (A/n: DEAN IS SO SAXXXXY HAWT! Yeayea.)
They physics continued the bad prophecy. "BEWARE-eth, o beeyoutifull werevamp of lore. It is the first daye of teh seventh moon-eth. Thou must prepare, for on the seventh day of the seventh moon, the battle for Middle Earth shall be gin. The armies approach on the yellow brick road o Chosen One! Only u can restore balance 2 the Force, kill Voldymort and Galbatorix on a flying dragon, destory the One Ring in More Dore, restore the Crystal skull at World's End, marry Edward Cullen and get 2 Narnia b4 the Titanic sinks, find Waldo before the clock stricks 12, and save Gothem from teh Joker to be the farest of them all in time 4 superbowl Sunday on Friday the 13th."
"I think that deansmyhunkyxo19 just ripped off every major pop culture icon created within the last 70 years," Dean acknowledged with a low whistle. "The impossible has just become… uh, possible."
Sam's eyebrows were now so far raised on his forehead that they were in danger of being eaten by his hairline.
"Protect-eth thy heart", the ugly-er than Roxxie physic twins continued, "for ye thou forsooth hath dost willeth thy thine thee treemonkey William shakespear."
"Okay. I give up on life. That did not make-eth any sense." The YED snapped, shutting the journal.
The room went stock-still and everyone turned and stared at Azazel, who hadn't noticed his faux pas-eth. Jo managed to stifle her giggle, barely.
"Oh. MY. GAWD." Roxxy cried as Cindy and Mindy passied out next to Sammich on the floor. "I need to amast an Army to fight the evil Warewolve and vampires. Quick!" she snapped her fingers and instantly the rest of the mansion, which had been partying and sleeping all nite, woke up.
Roxxy strode out of teh dungeon, dean following, and they went to the balcony that overlooked the entire 1st flore of the physic twin's mansion. "Listen all of you!" She addressed the witches and warlicks and physics and huntres and misc. other ppls who didn't really matter. "WE have a war in 6 days! We needs 2 prepare. I am the Chosen One! I am the redeemer-eth! I cammand you to help fight to save the world!"
The crowd below cheered & cried at the shear beuty of Roxxi's imspiring words. She was even better than Obama, cuz she was just like on FIYAH she could have run 4 presidente.
"Oh God no," Dean looked positively nauseated at the thought. "President Roxxy?"
Sam's stomach churned unpleasantly and he held his hand to his mouth. His face was a sickly green tint. "I think I'm going to be sick!"
"Ugh," Jo shoved Sam's head towards Dean's general direction. "Not on me, you're not."
"We stay mansion to fight. The mansion is a fortress. We ill hold the line HERE only. Witches, get all ur little witchy friends and bring them back her to cast protection spells over the mansoin grounds," Roxxy commanded. "And u warlocks too. U have 2 dayz. Huntres, I want u to meet with my Deany Beany because he no's his shit and will teach u how to fight & kill vamps and weres. Then u must call every1 u no and get them to come HERE!" Everyone nodded and left.
"Damn, girl, u be hawt when u talk like dat," Dean swaggerd ofer to ROxxy and placed a big tonguely kiss on her cherry pink lips.
"Now, Dean," Roxxi reminded, placing a slim finger on his hawt lips. "befor we get hot and do teh sexy times and before u teach the hunters how ot kill the vamps and weres, u need to help me summon some backup."
"Like wat?" Dean was confuzzled. Pore dean! He was hawt and muscular but sometimes he don't have a big brane.
"Can't argue with that logic," Sam grinned, narrowly avoiding Dean's backhand.
"Like… angels!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111111111" Oh snap! Roxxy was going to bring in the angles to back her up! Wat a shock! That is so intense, right? I know, right? rite.
So… yeah. Like totally we're done with teh 8chapter of my EPIC SToriE. Wat will happen next? U have to come nexty time! Okies time for teh REVIEW RESPONSES!!!!!!!!!!!!1111 I either call u winner or not. If I like ur review, u will be a winner.
"Here we go again," Dean groaned, clutching his stomach and looking slightly green. "As if all my screen-time with Roxxy the Wonderslut isn't enough…"
Samsasexybeotch: thanks bai u r the best! I no that I made sammeh slightly smarter than he is in the show but I thot it would be better if he was more itelligent than in suber natural. U R WINNAR!
Bookwrom88881111111111I_SUCK: I am not DAMaged. I am perfect. Obvisuly u r not perfect like me and that is y u r a LOSER. Booby IS a perv just look at his nazty raepist beard! An y would I wanna use a thesaurus those aminals are extinct, DUH! U r stooped. U R DUMBASS!
Mummylurvy: booby isn't a really name. his name is BOOBY just look at IMDeB if u dont believe_me. And ur obviously kidding I luv suerpnatural its my fave show besides judge judy and lost. I mean I just watch last weeks episode when dean slept w/ ruby and sam together. Duh. Obviously I no more about it than u. UR DUMBAS!
"That was…" The Yellow Eyed Demon looked shocked. "Well, that was just horrible, wasn't it?" He tossed the fanfiction to the coffee table before him with a jerk and removed his glasses.
"Urgh..." Sam's arms were clenched tightly around his midsection as he tried not to hurl.
"We still have more of the story to read!" Jo whined, glimpsing the rest of the fanfiction lying unread on the table. "The next chapters are going to be hell…"
The rest of the room nodded silently.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Someone knocked on the motel door.
"Okay, seriously, what the hell?!" Dean grumbled angrily as he headed towards the door. "You people in here figure out who is reading what next chapter. I'm getting the door."
Sam looked like he was eager to get the door, but decided against voicing anything.
Instead, he turned to the rest of the room.
"Chapter nine. Who gets the honors?"
Author's Note: Thanks so much for your reviews! To channel my inner Roxxie: I hugglez you!!1!!11
One: The title of this chapter comes from a quote in The Dark Knight, said by the Joker, who was played, of course, by the wonderfully talented Heath Ledger. The full quote (one that wouldn't fit in the title), is as follows:
Madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little… push.
That line, among others in the fantastic movie, really stuck with me. Do you have any lines of TDK that really struck you as profound? Feel free to share.
Two: Okay, so I've come to a decision. It's up to you, the readers, to decide the outcome of a particular character's fate. I want the input of the readers, for whom I write to please, to vote in your review to decide the fate of Jo.
Personally, Jo was not one of my favorite characters. In fact, I despised her character until she was gone from the picture. Now, I can tolerate her name being mentioned in a conversation, and I can tolerate her enough to make her a relatively major supporting character in Supernatural Meets Sue-pernatural. However, I need to make room in my story for some more, well, prevalent and prominent characters in my story and this is where I need your help.
When you write a review, please vote for one of the two options. A) I keep Jo in the picture, she stays as a character in the story (but she might have less lines and even disappear from the dialogue altogether). Option B) I kill her off. I kind of had something of an idea for how she would go out (and it would be with a bang, I assure you) and I promise that it's probably more interesting than option one, and I would love to incorporate that somehow into the lore of both my fanfic and deansmyhunkyxo19's fanfic.
Jo dies, rather epically.
beautiful dreamere: Alright! You're the best! Thanks for resending that hack, I saved it and then double-saved it so that I won't lose it this time. Expect it to pop up when you least expect it! And by that, I mean the next chapter.
Mummyluvr: Glad that you've returned to my fic! Hope you like this chapter. Thanks!
Bookworm81818: Here's that chapter you've been haranguing me about. Enjoy!
Winchesterphantom: Haha thank you for your kind words! Yeah, I admit that breaking the fourth wall last chapter was very fun for me to write. Hope you like this one, too!
SparkyCSI: This chapter has been a long time coming, sorry for the long wait! Thanks for adding me to alert!
Hazgarn: Yeah, I felt bad about doing that to "Booby," but it had to be done. At least this chapter he makes a full recovery, right?
Lennon Drop: Yeah, school seems to be my excuse for everything these days. :/ Even with breaks I still never have any time.
psiChic: *high fives* Right back atcha!
nyx92: Thanks for finally getting around to reading it! We need to have another reading group with your Mary Sue voice. And sorry about the typos. I'm not very good at re-reading and finding errors, and since this story is my baby I don't really like handing each chapter over to betas to read it through before I unveil it.
raputathebuta: Here you go! Better late than never, right?
North American Scum: So sorry if I insulted Judge Judy, I didn't mean anything by it. I honestly was just fishing around for a random television show name and that was the first one that came to my mind. I actually respect Judge Judy a lot, for some of the reasons you outlined. Peace.
Choas babe: Feel free to skip. I can barely re-read it myself when I skim the chapter again :/