A/N: Another fic from the Coyote 'verse. Yep, it's crack. If you're not familiar with this 'verse, and you haven't read Dog Eat Dog, here's the Reader's Digest version: Once upon a time the trickster God Coyote was lonely, and he went to the Powers That Be for help to get a family. The PTB promptly split Coyote into two: the Trickster half and the human half, Dean Winchester. Coyote has since been adopted by the Winchesters, which also includes John Winchester, whom the boys sprung from Hell. These days they all hang out at Bobby's place. BTW: Bear is a kachina, a spirit being, and he happens to look exactly like actor Michael Clarke Duncan (The Green Mile).

A/N #2: The views and opinions expressed are those of the Winchesters and not of the author. Phoebe's to blame for the bit about the ring-tailed lemurs. Story title taken from the movie of the same name.

Spoiler Alert: If you have not seen The End or The Curious Case of Dean Winchester, and you do not want to be spoiled, please do not read this.

Summary: Coyote, Sam, Dean and Bear visit the Supernatural set in an alternate universe. Pure crack, no redeeming value.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. This is for entertainment only, and not for profit.

"Hey, Sam?"


"Who's that dude over there?"

"Uh…Jensen Ackles."

"Huh. I know you told me he looks just like me but I can't see it."

"Seriously? Huh. He's like your evil twin or somethin'."

"That Padalecki over there?"


"Well, they nailed you, Sammy. He's a big girl."

"Hey, watch it."


"Hey, Old Man."

Coyote jumped up in the air and landed on all fours. His back humped slightly, so the effect was more cat-like than dog-like. "Shit! I mean, uh, Dean! What the hell are you doing over here?"

"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Dean drawled as he looked around at the set. No one noticed they were standing there, and judging by the slight golden glow in Dean's eyes, Sam guessed that was deliberate. "So this is what an AU looks like, huh? Alternate Universe?"

"Uh, yeah." The Old Man looked suddenly shifty-eyed.

"Hey, Bear." Dean nodded at the large black man who stood next to the now-sullen coyote. "How they hangin', buddy?"

Bear looked bored. "Tried to get the old fool to leave and he wouldn't listen."

Dean rolled his eyes.

Bear shrugged those massive shoulders of his. "Hey, I stopped him from turning the writing staff into ring-tailed lemurs. I did my good deed for the day."

At that point a large, wide-eyed black and white ring tailed lemur bounded through the set. Some of the crew turned to look at the animal.

Bear scowled and thumped Coyote upside the head.

"Missed that one," Coyote said with a grin. The evil look Dean gave him made his shoulders slump.

"Oh, all right!" Coyote snarled. The lemur morphed into a rather confused looking human male wearing rumpled clothes. "There. Ya happy now?"

"Thrilled," Dean snapped. It suddenly occurred to him that the Old Man was getting more stubborn by the second, and maybe bitching at him wasn't quite the way to go here. "Uh huh. Look. I can't believe I'm even sayin' this, but…you gotta stop this."

"Stop what?" Coyote sat down and blinked those wide green eyes of his. It was a pretty good imitation of innocence, but Dean wasn't fooled for a second. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

"Dude. You can drop the innocent act right now. It's me you're talking to, remember?"

Coyote stuck his nose in the air and 'hmpf'ed.

"Where we are is real. Over here, it's just make-believe. These folks are just trying to make a living."

Coyote's eyes went to slits. He lifted one corner of his muzzle, exposing sharp white teeth. "That Kripke is evil. Evil I tell ya!" He raised his right forepaw and gestured behind Dean. "He's got Bobby in a wheel chair!" the irate Trickster hissed.

Dean turned around to look, then he shook his head. "You're the Master of Disaster, the First Artist, baddest trickster ever to roam the desert southwest, and you got fooled by this? You see that? That's Jim Beaver. He plays Bobby over here. What's he doing right now?"

"He just got up out of the wheelchair," Coyote sat with his tail bushed out, ears pinned back against his head. "He walked over to the craft table. He's getting lunch."

"So he can walk. Repeat after me: none of this is real."

"None. Of. This. Is. Real." Coyote sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

"It's just as fake as fan fiction. I saw you over here talking to that Becky chick. Wincest. Slash. Chubby Winchesters." Dean raised both arms out to the sides. "Chubby Winchesters? What the hell is that?"

"I gave her some story ideas," Coyote muttered crossly. His ears twitched. "It was top drawer stuff."

"You WHAT?"

"See, I knew you'd get upset about it. She didn't listen to me anyway. Said she was gonna write a genderswap slave fic in which you were turned into a girl and had gladiator Sam's baby."

(Breaking the fourth wall here: Anybody out there who wants to write that genderswap/slave fic, feel free! And now, back to our story:)

"Oh, Jesus." Dean scrubbed his face with his palm.

"Dude," Sam whispered, "those fangirls even have us hooked up with Dad. And Bobby."

Dean looked absolutely horrified. "Thank you so very much for sharing that bit of information. Geez, Sam!"

"Well, they do," Sam muttered sulkily.

Coyote snickered.

"Hey, this doesn't let you off the hook, fuzzy. I've been following you around. Let's see, I've been sold into slavery, came back from hell as a black-eyed demon, got changed into all kinds of animals, and then there's this thing called mpreg. If it's what I think it is, I can tell you right now that me and my boys absolutely do not appreciate that last one." Dean scowled darkly at his Trickster half. "I don't see why you keep coming over here."

Right about then Sam jiggled the left sleeve of his jacket a little, and something long and wooden dropped down into his palm. He pulled the baseball bat all the way out of his jacket sleeve and hefted it.

"Uh, Sam?" Dean eyed his brother warily. "Dude, where are you going with that?"

Sam tapped it against his palm once. Twice. "White socks, Dean."


"Kripke made me wear white socks. White loafers. And that suit? Did you see that suit?"

"Sam, that wasn't you…"

"Did you see the way Padalecki pranced around for the gag reel? Staying Alive? Saturday Night Fever?" Sam gripped the baseball bat with both hands. He stuck his chin out defiantly, the way he always did when he was dead set on having his own way. "I can't let this go on, Dean. Kripke's planning on doing more scenes like that. Padalecki's begging for more scenes as Lucifer's vessel in that damn white suit."

"I can't believe I'm the voice of reason. We're in serious trouble here. Sam, put the bat down. Please?"

Sam gripped the baseball bat so hard his hands shook. "I don't know why you're so calm about this. Over here Dad's dead. Bobby's in a wheelchair."

"Sam, this isn't real. None of this is."

Sam gritted his teeth. "I had sex, Dean."

"Well, good for you!" Dean said cheerfully. He clapped his brother on one shoulder. "See, it isn't all bad!"

"Sex with Ruby, Dean. Their Sam had sex with a demon wearing a coma victim's body."

"Oh. Damn."

"And don't get me started about the way I was played last year. I drank demon blood. Went power mad. I treated you like dirt. Said you were weak. And you went to hell!"

"Sam, it's not real. Hey, wait a minute. Who's that old dude?"

Coyote pricked his ears alertly. "John McCain?"

Sam's bitchface didn't move an inch. "No. That's you, Dean."

Dean laughed uneasily. "No, it's not."

"Yes it is." Sam was relentless. "You're eighty years old in this episode. That's Chad Everett."


"Chad Everett. Medical Center. Old tv show from back in the day."

"Wait a minute, how come pretty boy didn't wear the old make-up?"

Sam shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me."

"Well," Bear rumbled, "Chad Everett is still better than Brock Kelly."

"And I had successfully forgotten that until you reminded me," Dean said flatly.

"Sorry." Bear didn't seem like he was.

"That Kelly dude doesn't even look like I did when I was in high school," Dean wondered aloud. He stood there quietly for a moment, then: "Maybe I oughta have a word with ol' Eric. And that Ackles dude." The words came out in a deep, smooth growl that promised it was going to be a pretty lively, probably one-sided discussion.

Coyote snorted. "Gee, whatever happened to the voice of reason?"

"Old Man?"

"Yeah, pup?"

"Shut uppp."


A/N: I actually enjoyed Chad Everett's performance as Old!Dean. About Brock Kelly I shall say no more.