DOUBLE DEE
WOW: Party. Donna's dropping in for a visit at the bunker. That can only mean one thing … donuts!
Three hundred words to celebrate our birthday girl Vanessa's big day! Happy birthday my friend :)
Disclaimer: I don't own them!
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Sam walked back from the kitchen into the bunker's main hall juggling an armful of beerbottles and chips to find Donna and Dean sitting around the big dining table exactly where he'd left them. Hamster-cheeked and liberally coated with sugar and jelly, they presented a picture of confection-fuelled satisfaction.
In front of them, the empty, crumb-strewn plate which only an hour previously had been piled high with donuts, of which Sam had only just managed to snatch one for himself, told the tale of their evening.
Sam handed out the beers, and hadn't even sat down when Dean spoke up past the wad of chewed donut that seemingly filled his mouth to capacity.
"Hey Sam," he mumbled; "Donna an' me think we should open a donut shop in town. We could call it 'Double Dee's Donuts!"
"You betcha," Donna added, shoving the remains of a chocolate Krispy Kreme into her mouth; "and it'd have a hundred different varieties of donut, and we could spend our time inventing all sorts of new varieties too."
"Party time!" Dean added, enthusastically licking his sticky fingers down to his wrists lest an atom of sugar be wasted; "don't'cha think that'd be epic Sammy?"
Sam shook his head and grinned wryly; "I think it'd be the crappiest donut shop in existence."
Two indignant pairs of eyes glared accusingly out of sugar crusted faces at him. The star-shaped pink sprinkle stuck to the end of Dean's nose somehow lessened the sense of menace.
"WHAT? WHY?"
Sam pulled the empty plate toward him and stared at a lone raisin that had somehow managed to escape the onslaught, before picking it up and eating it.
"I dunno," Sam replied casually, taking a slug of beer; "it's just … well, let's say - I can foresee stock control problems."
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