Written for Supernatural . tv's 200 Word Drabble Challenge.
The Art of Misinformation
As soon as they stepped into the bar Dean knew they should've just kept on driving. But no, the billboard with the scantily clad bar wench advertising the best burgers and micro brew in the five state area was too tempting. Hell, even Sam thought it was a good idea. That right there should've indicated impending doom.
Something unidentifiable crunched underfoot; the incredible smell of burgers and fries mixed with the tang of alcohol was underlaid with the acrid scent of sulfur and coppery blood. It set the hairs on the back of the Winchester's necks on end.
Dean pulled out his gun. "What the hell Sam?"
Sam glanced around the crepe paper festooned room, "uh, I think somebody got married." He poked gingerly at a pale pink balloon, "Dean I don't think this is latex."
An impeccably dressed man stood at a center table holding up a champagne flute of amber liquid. "Let's here it for Inara, eternal Queen of the crossroads, and her beaming spouse, Edward."
In between the sounds of glass clinking and cheering you could hear a cultured voice growling, "damnit, quit it with the sun lamp! I. DON'T. SPARKLE! Stephenie Meyer is so dead."
-FIN-
