DISCLAIMER: Any resemblance to real alive or dead people is purely coincidental. I don't own 'em – Kripke and the CW do…

A/N: So this is purely a bit of harmless fun to cheer up a friend and exorcise some of those nasty demons that plague us as writers. Please enjoy this in the spirit in which it is intended….

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Not the Write Stuff

"Ok. So what are we doing here again?"

Sam sighed and gave his brother a long suffering look.

"Dude. Do you ever pay attention to anything I say?"

"Don't get your knickers in a knot. I'm paying attention now, aren't I?" Dean had the decency to look at least a little ashamed of himself. But really, research was just so boring. He was sure if he gave 100 of his attention to the mind-numbing process his brain would simply trickle out of his ears. That's what Geekboy was for after all.

Sam sighed again and watched his brother paw at the tie around his neck.

"We are here to look at the remains of one Judy Sue."
"You are totally shitting me. That is not a real name!" Dean looked at his brother incredulously.

"It is still her name, Dean. It has been her name the whole time we have been researching this case." Sam scowled at his brother's lack of focus. Really, he just wanted to smack him upside the head sometimes.

"Anyway. She was a writer, and so far she is the most consistent link between the victims. Each of the suicides had a copy of her most recent novel."

"So are we assuming she wrote them to death? You'd think the publishing company would have frowned on that." Dean quirked an eyebrow at his brother.

"Well, she didn't use a real publisher for one thing. She published a lot on the internet – or at least she posted on the internet – and then she published with a vanity press."
"Come again? A what?"

"Vanity press, Dean. The author pays for the printing themselves. It's a way to get anything published and from what I've read of hers it was the only way she was ever going to get published."

"Bad?"

"Well, suggesting she wrote them to death is a real possibility."

Dean winced.

"The funny thing is that right before she died she suddenly got a contract with a really prestigious publishing firm." Sam rifled through the folder he had in front of him.

"Hers is the only death that wasn't a suicide."
"Yeah, the whole chopped to bits corpse was kind of a dead giveaway…"
Sam groaned.

"Again. Why are we here, Sammy?"
"The usual reason, Dean-y. We need to view the remains. Ah!" Sam found the picture he'd been digging in the folder for. He passed it to his brother.

"UGH! If you've already got a picture of the corpse, why do we need to go in?" Dean made little gagging noises.

"Dude! She's not dead in that picture. Thought we should be able to verify we were looking at the right body." Sam cringed as he looked at the picture in his brother's hand, which Dean began to flap in his brother's general direction.

"Ewwww! Take her back, man. That is the fugliest old broad I think I've ever seen. No wonder she kept herself locked up in that house writing! Man! I think that I just threw up in my mouth a bit."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's over the top reaction. Still, he had to admit that the deceased was about the ugliest woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He felt a little bad that she had apparently had no talent either. Which in turn piqued his interest in how she had ever scored a publishing contract. Something was definitely up, and this woman was at the centre of it.

"I'm not generally against a well-preserved cougar, but even I have certain minimum standards!" Dean forcibly shoved the offending picture into the file in Sam's lap.

"Fine, Dean. Point taken. But I really think you are safe – she is dead remember?"

"Hey! You know as well as I do that it wouldn't be the first time a ghost preferred me to you."
"So you've decided we are dealing with a vengeful spirit?"
"Well, haven't you? I mean, what else could it be?"

"You really don't get the whole point of research, do you Dean? It's pointless to do research if you don't keep an open mind." Sam shook his head and laying the folder on the seat pushed open the car door and started to head towards the building they were sitting in front of.

"Ok, ok, Samantha, no need to get your knickers in a knot. I'm coming!" Dean had to jog to catch up with his brother to follow him into the morgue.

The woman behind the reception desk appraised the two young men in front of her appreciatively.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" she inquired under lowered lashes.

Dean leaned in for the kill.

"We're with the FBI, miss. We need to see the remains of Judy Sue." Dean smiled his most winning smile and Sam sighed as he watched yet another woman melt under the Dean Winchester sun.

"I'll need to see some id," she breathed apologetically as she beamed up at Dean.

"Of course," Dean said as he flashed his very fake id in her general direction.

"Thanks. I'll buzz you in. Jim can get the remains out for you and put them in one of the private viewing rooms, so you won't be disturbed."
"Thanks yourself. You've been very helpful." Dean winked at the woman as he and Sam walked past into the morgue proper.

Jim met them as they crossed the threshold.

"I'll put you in here," he said indicating a room to the side of the main examination room. "I'll bring the remains in a moment." Jim didn't follow them in but instead turned and headed toward the storage drawers.
"These places always creep me out," Sam barely controlled an involuntary shudder.

"I'd think you'd be use to it by now, Sammy," Dean smirked.

Jim entered the room carrying a medium sized cardboard box.

Dean's eyebrows just about disappeared into his hairline. His unasked question was obvious.

"This is how the "body" came to us. The medical examiner hasn't had time to examine it thoroughly yet, so please don't remove it." Jim placed the box in the centre of the table and then exited the room.

Dean looked at Sam.

Sam looked at Dean.

Dean couldn't stand it.

"What's in the bo-ox?" Dean ground out his best Brad Pitt imitation and began laughing.

"Dude! Seriously. Take a damn pill and act your age will you?"

"Kill joy," Dean's laughter died on his lips and he stepped up to the box. After taking a deep breath, he opened the box.

"Damn," he breathed. "I didn't think she could look any worse!"

Sam stepped to the table and also looked into the box. Judy Sue's head greeted him. She had no eyes. Someone or something had gouged them out.

A/N: Hope you got a few laughs out of this. Please let me know if you did!!!!! Please leave a little review under my pillow…..please….

A/N2: If you in any way identified with the villain here, please seek therapy!!! And a quick note about the name of our "villain"… Judy – as in Judy Bloom – an author that I found surprisingly frightening as a child and Sue – as in Mary Sue (ok – sorry that is a deep-seated prejudice that I have largely gotten over – in no small part due to some awesome writers of OC fics – Devonshire, Kwater, Gaelicspirit…).