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fic: meanwhile, in van nuys
Meanwhile, in Van Nuys
Notes: This is a Supernatural 5.22 story. While I have been spoiled extensively for 5.22, I have in fact only seen about 15 seconds of it. Also, this is crack. Squick warning for grossitude.
385 words. Also on AO3.
"Assbutt."
Sammifer snapped his fingers, and where Cas had been standing there was suddenly an explosion of gooey red disgusting grossitude. It splattered everywhere. Dean was fairly sure he had some on his face. Bobby's side looked bathed in it.
But there was something--off.
For one thing, there was a distinct lack of shredded trenchcoat in the mix. For another, even if Sammifer had for some reason removed the trenchcoat to preserve in a serial killer-esque collection (Dean would not put it past the creepy little asshole), there was just something... inadequately meaty about the red goo. Dean had dealt with his fair share of living, beat up bodies and dead, gross bodies, and really, the goo was just goo, there was no muscle striation in it anywhere, no sign of bones, whole or fragmented, no elastic-y bits of skin. People didn't puree this neatly, even at the devil's fingertips.
Also, the goo smelled like strawberries.
Bobby licked his finger.
"Oh my GOD," Dean protested. "That's sick."
"No, it's jell-o," said Bobby.
"So," Sammifer sneered, "you think you can tell processed horse from processed people?"
"Yep," said Bobby. "Definitely jell-o. Idjit."
Only Bobby would call the Lord of Hell an idjit.
"You bastard," Dean said, clutching at Sammifer. "What did you do with Cas?"
Sammifer looked uncomfortable for a moment. Then he declared, "SOMETHING EVEN WORSE THAN BEING BLOWN UP."
Dean gasped.
"Really?" Bobby asked. "What's worse than being blown up?"
Sammifer's eyes narrowed. Glaring, he announced, "HEARTBURN."
Meanwhile, in Van Nuys:
Cas moaned in pleasure. He stuffed another burger in his face. "Mmm," he said around the half-chewed meaty, cheesy goodness. Behind him, one of the paintings had transformed into a version of the Last Supper in which Jesus was gnawing on a lamb shank and reaching for the rolls. Cas was on his sixth cheeseburger now. He pushed the wrapper off and forced it into his mouth, moaning, "Ommmm nom nom nom nom."
Somewhere in the back of his head, Jimmy said, Uh, hey, Cas? Isn't there some sort of apocalyspe thing you're supposed to be stopping?
It's ongoing, Cas replied shortly, because honestly, if the apocalypse was going to go on for two years running, surely he was entitled to a snack break.
Hey, said Jimmy interestedly, is that In & Out?
Notes: This is a Supernatural 5.22 story. While I have been spoiled extensively for 5.22, I have in fact only seen about 15 seconds of it. Also, this is crack. Squick warning for grossitude.
385 words. Also on AO3.
"Assbutt."
Sammifer snapped his fingers, and where Cas had been standing there was suddenly an explosion of gooey red disgusting grossitude. It splattered everywhere. Dean was fairly sure he had some on his face. Bobby's side looked bathed in it.
But there was something--off.
For one thing, there was a distinct lack of shredded trenchcoat in the mix. For another, even if Sammifer had for some reason removed the trenchcoat to preserve in a serial killer-esque collection (Dean would not put it past the creepy little asshole), there was just something... inadequately meaty about the red goo. Dean had dealt with his fair share of living, beat up bodies and dead, gross bodies, and really, the goo was just goo, there was no muscle striation in it anywhere, no sign of bones, whole or fragmented, no elastic-y bits of skin. People didn't puree this neatly, even at the devil's fingertips.
Also, the goo smelled like strawberries.
Bobby licked his finger.
"Oh my GOD," Dean protested. "That's sick."
"No, it's jell-o," said Bobby.
"So," Sammifer sneered, "you think you can tell processed horse from processed people?"
"Yep," said Bobby. "Definitely jell-o. Idjit."
Only Bobby would call the Lord of Hell an idjit.
"You bastard," Dean said, clutching at Sammifer. "What did you do with Cas?"
Sammifer looked uncomfortable for a moment. Then he declared, "SOMETHING EVEN WORSE THAN BEING BLOWN UP."
Dean gasped.
"Really?" Bobby asked. "What's worse than being blown up?"
Sammifer's eyes narrowed. Glaring, he announced, "HEARTBURN."
Meanwhile, in Van Nuys:
Cas moaned in pleasure. He stuffed another burger in his face. "Mmm," he said around the half-chewed meaty, cheesy goodness. Behind him, one of the paintings had transformed into a version of the Last Supper in which Jesus was gnawing on a lamb shank and reaching for the rolls. Cas was on his sixth cheeseburger now. He pushed the wrapper off and forced it into his mouth, moaning, "Ommmm nom nom nom nom."
Somewhere in the back of his head, Jimmy said, Uh, hey, Cas? Isn't there some sort of apocalyspe thing you're supposed to be stopping?
It's ongoing, Cas replied shortly, because honestly, if the apocalypse was going to go on for two years running, surely he was entitled to a snack break.
Hey, said Jimmy interestedly, is that In & Out?