A/N the first: I did National Novel Writing Month last month, and writing about my original fiction Coyote boy apparently inspired my muse about Coyote and Dean. Cujo Winchester and Black Horse will return next week, with two chapters apiece before Christmas, and more updates on those and other fics after the holiday.

A/N the second: The views and opinions expressed by Dean Winchester about Anime!Dean are also shared by this author. I tried watching some of the episodes and the first time Kermit - I mean, Anime!Dean - got emo I nearly broke my wrist grabbing for the remote. I scanned through a couple more episodes, thinking things would get better. They didn't. Anime just isn't my cup of tea. There, I said it. No need to PM me and sing its praises. Some of the most rabid anime fans on the planet have tried to sway me and I fell asleep during their arguments.

What's that? You say that Anime!Dean is...yummy?

Ewww. Yummy. Yeah, I guess he is, if your idea of "yummy" looks like a emo pop-eyed frog. If so-called amateur artists like petite madame over on DeviantArt can draw Jensen with no problem, how come those big time Japanese animators can't? Epic fail, guys.

There. I said it.

Much apologies to Aerosmith, their song "Dude Looks Like a Lady" and Robin Williams.

Summary: Coyote, Sam and Dean critique episodes of Supernatural – The Animation anime series. If you have not seen this series and you don't want to be spoiled, DO NOT READ THIS FIC.

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

(That, that) Dude looks like a lady

(That, that) Dude looks like a lady

"Sonofabitch," Dean whispered. He couldn't get the damn words out of his head.

Stephen Tyler's voice filled the world, and then faded out again.

"Dean?" Sam's voice held a worried edge that Dean definitely didn't like.

The sound grew louder, as if someone flipped the volume control all the way up. It didn't hurt, but it was damned annoying, and for a moment he couldn't see or hear anything, not the tv, not the talking heads on that stupid early morning news show.

There was only one being on the planet who could get inside his head like that. And there was no telling how long this was going to last. The Old Man was perfectly capable of running this into the ground, and then some.

"Coyote," Dean growled. He was off the couch and out of Bobby's living room as soon as his sight cleared.

Less than five minutes later, Sam and Dean stared in amazement at the sight before them. Bobby's work shed never looked like this.

The outside of the building was the same: corrugated iron. Inside was a much different story. Inside the shed looked like a high end movie theater. Expensive art deco fixtures, heavy red velvet drapes, stadium seating, with runner lights from the stop stairs all the way down to the huge stage and the movie screen set in the wall above. It was dim inside, but that was the point. It was a movie theater, after all, and the show was definitely up there on the screen.

So never judge a book by its cover...

Or who you're going to love by your lover

Coyote was two legged and furry now.

And he was dancing with Mrs. Doubtfire.

Love put me wise to her love in disguise
She had the body of a Venus
Lord imagine my surprise

They danced through the on screen hallway, into the living room.

(That, that) Dude looks like a lady
(That, that) Dude looks like a lady

Coyote led, and Mrs. Doubtfire followed. They danced up one side of the couch and down the other, somehow they even ended up dancing on top of the dining room table. It was better than anything Sam had ever seen on Dancing With the Stars, and just when he thought it couldn't get any weirder, Coyote twirled his partner and they stepped through the movie screen onto the theater stage.

Dean and Sam sat down and enjoyed the show.

Baby let me follow you down
Let me take a peek dear
Baby let me follow you down
Do me, do me, do me all night
Baby let me follow you down
Turn the other cheek dear
Baby let me follow you down
Do me, do me, do me, do me

It was obvious that the Old Man and his partner knew they had an audience. They even danced nimbly across the row of seats two rows down from the brothers. They never missed a beat.

Ooh what a funky lady
She like it, like it, like it, like that,
Ooh he was a lady

(That, that) Dude looks like a lady
(That, that) Dude looks like a lady

(That, that) Dude looks like a lady

The music finally stopped as they danced back onto the stage.

Dean and Sam clapped, and Coyote and his partner took a bow.

Mrs. Doubtfire waved coyly at the Winchesters. "Oh, they're both such handsome young men." She gestured at Dean. "But your pup? They were right. I can see the bossiness in his eyes."

"What? Hey! I'm not bossy!"

"It's all right, dear," Mrs. Doubtfire said soothingly. "It's fine. There's nothing wrong with being what you are."

"I'm not bossy," Dean gritted out.

Sam snorted.

"Of course you're not, dear. Good-bye now. Bye bye!" Doubtfire waved coyly at Sam and Dean and stepped back into the movie screen. The screen went black, and the house lights came up.

"You been talking about me again, huh, Old Man?"Dean grumbled as he stood up.

"What? No, I haven't."

"Yeah. You have. I'm not bossy."

Sam smirked.

Dean glared at him.

It was time to change the subject. Sam looked slightly wide-eyed as he looked around. The space was way larger on the inside than it was on the outside. "Does Bobby know what you did to his work shed?"

"Nope. I'll put it back when I'm done." Coyote sat down on his haunches and scratched at that space behind his right ear with his right hind leg.

"So what's the occasion, fuzzy?" Dean drawled lazily.

"Uh, I was looking at some movies an' stuff."

"And stuff. Uh huh. Yeah. You went over to that damn AU again, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah." Coyote padded up the stairs to his favorite seat, directly underneath the projection booth.

Dean strolled over and sat down next to him, and after a moment's hesitation, Sam did too.

"So what's playing on the matinee today?" Dean said briskly. A large tub of butter flavored popcorn materialized on his lap. "Sam?"

"Uh, no butter, thanks."

Dean snorted as he made a slightly smaller unflavored tub appear in Sam's hand. "No butter." He shook his head ruefully. "Dude. All my teachings, all these years, and you haven't learned a thing." Dean turned to Coyote. "What about you, fuzzy?"

Coyote's ears and tail drooped. He looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I, uh, I don't think you wanna watch this."

"Oh, but I do. And I am. Buttered popcorn? Hot dog? Nachos?"

"Popcorn," the trickster said. "Heavy on the fake butter." His thick tail twitched happily as an oversized tub of popcorn blinked into view on his lap.

The lights dimmed. The projector overhead flickered into life.

A large green eyeball filled the screen below. Then: "Based on tv series created by Eric Kripke."

Dean scowled. "Eric Kripke? What the hell?"

Coyote shoveled a pawful of popcorn into his mouth. This was gonna be fun.

"Dude, what the hell is this?" Dean rumbled. The ground shook slightly. Might have been an illusion, but Sam and Coyote knew it wasn't.

Dean was pissed.

"That's...that's supposed to be me?"

"Well, yeah."

"He looks like Don King. My hair doesn't look like that. I don't look like that." The look Dean gave Coyote was sharp. "Why'd you have to bring this back? You couldn't find anything better?"

The Old Man shrugged. "I was bored."

Sam smirked as he looked at the screen.

"And why the hell are you looking so damn happy?" Dean snapped.

"Well, uh, Sam looks okay. "

Dean snorted.

"Jealous?" The corners of Sam's mouth twitched upwards.

"Of you? Hell no. They nailed you, Sasquatch. You look like a girl. But I look like a frog. Big bulgy eyes, dark spiky hair. Brown eyes. What the hell, dude. Brown eyes? I don't look like that! This Japanese dude doesn't even sound like me. They got my awesomeness all wrong. I don't know who that dude is, but he's not me."

"Ovah thar 'e ish." Coyote chewed his popcorn noisily, his jaws puffed out like a chipmunk's. Dean glared at him, severe and unwavering, and finally Coyote stopped chewing altogether. He made a casual paw flap in the air towards the screen as he swallowed thickly. "Artist's choice," he mumbled lamely.

"Half-assed lying artist." Dean scowled at the screen.

Sam slumped down in his seat with a contented sigh. He'd never enjoyed going to the movies as much as he did right now.

Coyote cowered in his seat. "There's the yellow eyed demon. Oooh, he's wearing a dark trench coat and hat. Glowy eyes. S-Scar-y! I'm a-fraid!"

Dean stared thoughtfully at the screen. "Huh. They got that wrong too." His eyes narrowed dangerously as the scene shifted. "Wait a minute. Who's that?"

"Bobby," Sam murmured helpfully.

"Bobby? He looks like a lawn gnome!"

Coyote snickered as he pushed another handful of popcorn into his mouth. "Heh. You said 'gnome'."

"This is soo damn wrong on so many damn levels," Dean grumbled.

"Sure it is, Deanna." Sam's comment earned him yet another intense glare from his brother.

Sam straightened up in his seat, and he tried not to smile. "Since this is anime, things have to be exaggerated. Emotions, facial expressions, you name it. They just did it a little more with this Dean, that's all."

"Shut it, Samantha. That's not me. Couldn't be. I mean, look at him! Waving his arms all around! Sitting there hunched over hugging himself. What the hell? Damn, they've got me bawling like a bitch!"

Coyote's large ears perked up as he fisted another pawful of popcorn. "Here comes another crying spell. Wait for it. In five...four...three...two...one..."

Dean stared at the screen in horror as his double yawped and clung to Anime!Sam. "S-S-Sam-my! C-come h-here!"

Dean groaned and buried his face in his right hand. "Oh, Jesus."

"I—I was really h-happy f-for once in m-my l-life..." Anime!Dean bawled as tears streamed down his face and snot leaked out of his nose. "S-so very h-happy-"

"It's okay, Dean. It's all right. I'm here," Anime!Sam said soothingly as he hugged his broken big brother.

Sam smirked.

"That's it," Coyote crowed triumphantly. "Doctor Phil is in the house!"

Dean turned his head and glowered at the godly prairie wolf and then at his smug, not-so little brother.

Coyote's look of wide-eyed innocence was surprisingly effective. Well, it would have worked on anyone but Dean. "I didn't create this. They did. Hey, it gets worse, nińo."

And it did.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Sam!" the onscreen Dean blubbered loudly several episodes later. "I couldn't protect anybody-"

"Crap." Dean shook his head. He closed his eyes and gingerly massaged that space between his eyes. There was a little corkscrew of tension there that was guaranteed to get bigger the longer this went on.

Sam leaned over into Dean's personal space and whispered sotto voce to Coyote: "How many emo crying fits does that make now?"

The trickster looked genuinely puzzled. "I dunno. I lost count."

"Hey. I'm right here!" Dean growled. Sam leaned back. Dean gestured at the screen. "That never happened. You never died."

"They call it dramatic license, Dean," Sam replied smugly.

Dean's glare said it all: Sure they do, college boy.

"Ov'r heah 'e nevar died." Coyote thrust his muzzle deep into his red and white striped popcorn bag and noisily snuffed up what was left.

For the next twenty minutes Dean gripped both armrests so tightly that the upholstered metal groaned from the strain. Finally Dean stared at the new male figure on the screen: "And who the hell is THAT?"

Sam wasn't very successful keeping that slight smile off his face. "Uh, that's supposed to be Dad."

"WHAT?" The roof of Bobby's shed rattled and shook momentarily.

"That doesn't look a damn thing like -" His chair creaked and groaned as Dean stood up. The armrests were permanently deformed, with his fingerprints and hand prints pressed into the material. "I can't take this any more!"

Coyote pricked his ears, suddenly alert. "Uh, are you goin' over to that AU to talk to them about this?"

Dean's hands clenched into fists. "Yes," he gritted out. "Yes, I am."

"Uh, can I come? I wanna watch."

Dean glared at his furry half. "And could I stop you from coming, even if I said no?"

Coyote smirked. "Well, no."

"Then why the hell did you ask me in the first place?"

"Just messing with you."

Dean growled at him.

"Uh, Dean?" Sam looked hopeful, then immediately pulled out his ultimate weapon: soulful puppy dog eyes. "Can I come too?"

Dean softened, just a little. "Yeah. And I want you to shut it, y'hear me? Not one damn word."

Sam's look of fake innocence was extremely convincing. "Not one damn word."

Dean's eyes glowed yellow. "Come on, then." He and Sam vanished.

The movie theater faded out, back into the interior of Bobby's work shed. Stadium seating turned into cars up on blocks, racks and racks of parts, large wooden tables and all manner of metal and machinery. Coyote's ears twitched slightly at the rumble of the Impala as John Winchester and Bobby Singer pulled up in front of Bobby's house.

Coyote smirked to himself. Sometimes his pup got too serious, too broody, in his own way. That was due to the big brother role he'd taken on at an early age. Occasionally Dean needed to loosen up a little, blow off some steam. The Old Man could already hear the commotion from that AU.

"Brown eyes? Brown? Take a good look at me, art boy. Do my eyes look brown to you? Does my hair look like that? Anime, huh? I got your anime right here! Yeah, you better run!"

Coyote knew he had to hurry. He didn't want to miss a thing, but he already had. There was so much to do today! So many Japanese poverty gods to bitchslap, for one thing.

But there was one more thing he wanted to do here.

The music swelled up from the radio of the nearest junker, which was all the more remarkable because that car hadn't run in weeks, and there wasn't a battery in the darn thing in the first place.


"- dude cries like a lady." Coyote swished his tail back and forth, swiveled his hips in time to the beat. "That, that, dude cries like a lady..."

The Old Man chuckled to himself, and then faded out.