A/N: Inspired by the Godzilla Snickers commercial ("You're not you when you're hungry") and the Burning Man event. This story is from the Coyote/Dean 'verse in which Dean Winchester is the human half of the Trickster god Coyote. This story languished on my computer all this time and I finally decided to unleash it on an unsuspecting world. Why yes, I recently upped my meds. Why do you ask?

Summary: Coyote, Dean, Sam, John and Bobby go to the the Other Burning Man Festival with Godzilla. All manner of weird hi-jinks ensue.

Chapter 1 - with friends like these

Coyote followed the screams.

He trotted along with his ears up, a slight grin on his furry face, looking all the world like an urban 'yote out for a stroll in broad open daylight on a city street.

He ignored the humans running past him. They screamed and they cursed quite a lot, so he knew he was headed in the right direction.

Half a block in a human male had the bright idea to be a Good Samaritan. Young dude. Long hair, nose-ring. Blue jeans, sandals and a Bob Marley tee shirt. What Bobby Singer would have called "a hippie." Coyote knew the guy was trouble the moment he saw him. Dude took one look at the Old Man and his eyes grew big as saucers. Sure enough the Good Samaritan made a beeline for the celestial prairie wolf. The Good Samaritan waved his arms yelling, "No! No! Shooo! You're going the wrong way! Shoooooo!"

Coyote wasn't lost. He couldn't get lost. Ever.

The Old Man stopped. He raised up on his hind legs and grew one foot taller with every other word he said: "While I appreciate your concern for my well-being, I don't need your help. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!"

By the end of that sentence the Trickster god closely resembled a huge hulking computer generated werewolf from that Hugh Jackman movie "Van Helsing." He stood two legged and buff, fierce and furry.

Hippie Guy screamed and finally, mercifully, changed course and ran past headed out to parts unknown at top speed.

"Geez!" The air around Coyote churned with golden yellow light as he shrank down and Changed into something –someone - a bit less conspicuous.

He looked human now, broad-shouldered, bow-legged, with freckled tan skin and spiky dark blond hair. The only part of him that didn't change were his eyes: they were still wide, a bright green color framed by impossibly dark lashes. He wore a light grey hoodie, a long black leather vest with silver buckles, blue jeans with holes in both knees, brown work boots.

He was now the spitting image of his pup, Dean Winchester.

Several people whipped out their smartphones as they ran by. They snapped a few shots of Coyote's transformation. One guy was bold enough to stop running and use his phone to record the whole thing. Coyote ignored them all. They were totally unaware of the trick he played on them at that moment; later on they would find that their photos were blank and the cell phone recording didn't show a damned thing.

"Hmmmm...nice!" someone murmured from behind.

Coyote turned. Four women stood on the sidewalk eyeing him up and down.

The Old Man grinned. "Hellooo, ladies!"

Several of them giggled like schoolgirls.

Something gigantic roared up ahead, loud and deep. Coyote couldn't see past the tall buildings, but that didn't matter anyway. He'd found who he was looking for.

The women scattered in all directions.

An older woman wearing tennis shoes and a dark green business suit yelled at him, but she didn't stop as she ran past with the others. "You're going the wrong way!"

Coyote sighed ruefully. "No, I'm not." He shook his head. "I'm not."

He turned the corner. Stopped and stared upward.

The creature in the middle of the street was 30 foot high and 100 feet long. He had dark grey scales and short spines running down the top of his head to the tip of his long snakelike tail. The tail whipped back and forth behind him like it had a mind of its own.

Incredibly enough, some of the humans turned and aimed their smartphones at the dinosaur as they ran away. He grinned a little, exposing razor sharp eyeteeth, then stood up straighter on all fours with his left front foreleg raised up.

Huh. The dumb sonofabitch is posing, the Old Man thought.

That wasn't the worst of it. A human-sized leg stuck out of its huge mouth like a toothpick. The pant leg was navy blue. The shiny black shoe was uniform issue. Law enforcement.

Coyote frowned. The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms (also known as 'Ray' or 'Beastie' to his friends) suddenly froze at the sight of the Trickster. Then he blinked as he leaned forward. "Old Man?"

"Ray? What the hell is this? Is that – is that a cop in your mouth?"

"Ummm...maybe." Beastie mumbled. His large beady black eyes shifted nervously from side to side.

Coyote's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Spit him out."

So naturally Dummy opened his mouth 30 feet up to do just that.

"Gently, you idiot!" The Old Man exploded.

"Oh. Sorry." Ray lowered his head until his chin touched the street and then gently spat what was left of the cop out.

The cop's soul faded into view. He stood there staring wide-eyed at his body. His corpse still held his gun in a death grip. Otherwise his mortal remains looked like a crumpled up wad of flesh and cloth covered in thick white Rhedosaurus spit. Ugh.

Coyote knelt down beside the body. The air beside the soul shimmered and a black-suited pale reaper stepped through. The reaper's name was Mauv. Since he was the intermediary animal between the living and the dead, Death's furry go-between, the Trickster god knew all of the reapers by name and got along fairly well with most of them.

The Old Man cleared his throat loudly. "Mauv, ol' buddy, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Mauv nodded meekly and vanished as quickly as he came.

Coyote looked the cop's spirit in the eyes and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The way the ghost stared at him all bug-eyed was a sure sign that definitely wasn't working.

"Umm...Officer Sanders, right?"

Sanders' spirit nodded.

"Okay. Well, I usually don't apologize to law enforcement, seeing as how we're usually on opposite sides, but in this case I'll make an exception. On behalf of myself and the big scaly idiot over there, I apologize for any inconvenience and temporary loss of life you might have suffered."

"Idiot?" Ray bristled. "I never woulda chomped him if he hadn't gone all Dirty Harry on me with his damn gun." The Beast sat up on his haunches, rubbed absently at his massive blunt muzzle with both forepaws. "Those bullets stung."

"If you'd kept your ass in the ocean and waited for me none of this would have happened," Coyote snapped. That spoiled brat routine of Ray's usually got pretty damn old pretty damn quickly.

"Wh-what are you gonna do to me?" Officer Sanders stammered.

Coyote smiled. "Today's your lucky day, sport. And I really think the memory of being chomped to death is something you can well do without."

The Trickster snapped his fingers. Golden light poured over and through Sanders' body and his soul. Two became one again. He was fully restored now, slime free, blissfully unaware of what had happened to him in the last ten minutes. In another eye blink he disappeared altogether as he was 'ported back to his precinct house.

Coyote rose to his feet. "Now what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Ray pouted. "I got bored."

"You got bored. I told you to stay in the water, away from land, didn't I? Told you I was gonna be ten minutes late. And you didn't listen. You never do. Now GI Joe's coming for your ass. Don't expect me to help you when they get here, either."

"I don't need your help." Ray pouted. "I can do fine by myself."

"Yeah, right. I told Godzilla to wait for me. He waited. Why couldn't you?"

"Don't compare me to him!" the Beast snorted. "He's over-rated!"

"Suit yourself. Me and my pack are still going to Burning Man. You coming or not?"

"Not," Ray sniffed. "I'm going to Coney Island."

Coyote didn't even look up at the sudden clatter of Black Hawk helicopters overhead.

Well well. The reaction times of the military were really improved nowadays. He scowled at Ray and then faded out.

The Trickster's last words echoed in the air: "Whatever. Have fun."

TBC next week. And BTW, Coyote's Tale will resume next week too.

Pop culture reference: I gave the Beast from 20,00 Fathoms the human name "Ray" in honor of special effects legend Ray Harryhausen, the genius who animated the Beast in the 1953 film classic of the same name.