Still another A/N: Coyote has been bugging me about posting something, anything. I wanted to post this as a new fic but the system wouldn't let me. I know about the temporary fix for that, but I just don't feel right not being able to say what characters and what 'verse my fics are in, so I decided to post this to A Good Dog Is Hard To Find.
I'm still very leery (okay, say it, chicken is a better word) about letting Samirah and the Black Horse crew out if the posting problem hasn't been fixed. I know about the temporary fix for updating established fics. Give me a couple of days to get my courage up, okay?
Regularly scheduled A/N: Dedicated to all talented artists like StrawberryNVanilla, Deannawesson, ThruTerry'sEyes on DeviantArt, LJ and everywhere. And then there are the ones who should step away from Photoshop. Hmmm, maybe Coyote should visit them in another one shot…
Summary: Dean finds out that Coyote's moonlighting on the side to pay off some old debts held by devious Deangirls. Mostly dialogue. I blame my muse.
"Hey, Old Man -"
"Ahhhh! Pup, give a 'yote some warnin', will ya? Quit popping in like that. Geez!"
"Sorry, I…wait a minute. What the hell is all this?"
"What 's going on?"
"Uh huh. Nothing's going on, huh? What's with the feathered head dress? You look like Geromino or Sitting Bull."
Coyote scoffs. "Dude. I'm the Fine Young Chief Howling In the Dawn In the East."
"You look just like me. You're two legged."
"Well, so? I don't go furry and four legged alla damn time."
"You got no shirt on, and what's up with those black leather pants? Kinda tight, aren't they? This place looks like some half-assed photo shoot, and you're telling me nothing's going on?"
"Yeah. Nothing's going on. You can leave now."
"Nope. Ain't gonna. Not until you tell me what's going on."
A big burly stagehand walks by and grins at both of them. "Hey, Jensen! Dude, your brother looks just like you!"
"Still waiting. Not leaving."
"Oh, all right! Fangirls."
"Deangirls. They…they won't leave me alone."
"And you owe some of them favors, don't you?"
"Yeah. I still don't know how they did it. I'd forgotten some of those favors. They're from back in the day. I mean waay back in the day. Those Deangirls aren't even the original owners, for cripes' sake, and somehow they got their hands on those favors. They're callin' 'em in left and right. So…I gotta pose like this, 'cause pretty boy won't do it. He's too much of an actor now. He's grown up and mature." Coyote bares his teeth as he growls. "Hmph. Won't even show any skin anymore. If he did I wouldn't have to do any of this."
"Uh huh. And you actually expect me to feel sorry for you?"
"Yeah. Uh…do you?"
"Nope. Those puppy dog eyes aren't working."
Coyote sighs. Then he pulls a Blackberry Torch out from somewhere.
"Hold on. Are you…are you tweeting?"
"Yeah. I'm tweeting that my pup is uncaring and bossy."
"No it's not. I'm not like that."
"Yes, you are."
"So, you're telling everybody out there that I'm uncaring and bossy?"
"Yep. 'cause you are."
"First Facebook, now this. Damn. I knew Sam never should've told you what twitter is. And where the hell do you keep that thing stashed, anyway?"
"Niño, I'm not the only trickster on twitter. I got twelve million followers. Top that, Misha Collins!"
"Oh, brother. Ego much?"
"Yeah, and why not? I'm God's Dog. Well, you are too!"
Another stagehand walks by. "Five minutes, Mr. Ackles. That nude shower scene is next." The dude winks and leers at the Old Man. "I can't tell you how much we're all looking forward to that."
All of the crew members, male and female, give each other thumbs ups and high fives all around.
Dean slowly scrubs his palm down his face. "Oh, crap. Why the hell don't you just magic up some fake shots and call it a day?"
Coyote looks wide-eyed and offended. "What? And give up show business?"