Summary: You know this one? Two guys walk into a Pancake House … CRACK!
Rating: R (for swearing)
Author's notes: It's crack. Written between midnight and two o'clock in the morning, because the unholy duo just wouldn't shut up and I kind of adore them for being little bitches.
Disclaimer: The moment unicorns are real, I eat pancakes with the unholy duo.

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Five guys and a Pancake House

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"Whatever you're doing, you're doing it wrong."

The person spoken to raised it head and groaned. "By all that's holy … I'm eating pancakes! How can I do that one wrong?"

"I have no idea, but you're doing it. It looks all twisted and," Zachariah slid into the booth opposite to Lucifer, carrying his own plate full of pancakes, and hesitated for a moment, "wrong."

"Haha." Lucifer looked pissed. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

The angel waved nonchalantly. "This is the best goddamn pancake house in the States. And it's Tuesday."

"Fuck," Lucifer set his fork down and stared at his opponent. "You have Pancakes-Tuesdays now? What happened to Egg and Bacon-Tuesdays?"

The angel shrugged. "Uriel said he can't eat something white on a day starting with 'T'."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I'm an angel of the Lord, I kid you not."

"But Uriel is deep-fried now! Change your pancake-day. Tuesday is my pancake day."

Their conversation came to a sudden halt when the door to the Pancake world opened again and two guys entered.

They were met by a collective groan from Lucifer and Zachariah.

"You … wait … what?" Dean blinked at the unholy union on front of him.

"Fuck off." That came from both supernatural beings in unison.

"But … Zachariah? Lucifer?" That came from Sam, who stood in front of the booth open-mouthed.

"Oh, wow, he knows our names," Lucifer said to the angel, his voice dripping of sarcasm.

"We should give him a prize," Zachariah proposed.

"No, seriously, guys," Dean leaned down to them. "What are you doing here?"

"It's pancake-Tuesday. Now piss off and die," Lucifer answered.

"No, don't die." Zachariah looked slightly horrified at that thought. "Well, Sam, you can piss off and die, if you want," he added as an afterthought.

"I don't get this." Dean turned around to Sam. "Do you get this?" Sam just shrugged.

"Oh, for God's sake, can't a guy enjoy his delicious pancakes with maple syrup in fucking peace?" Lucifer complained and pointed with his fork at the brothers. "Go, you've fucked up eternity, you don't get to fuck up pancake-Tuesday, too."

"We didn't … " Sam started.

"Oh, please. You're both too stupid to say one little word? Yes? Is that too much to ask for?" Now Zachariah was getting syrup all over the table with the way his fork attacked his pancakes.

"Exactly!" Lucifer agreed with him. "That's what I'm talking about! We could have our fucking apocalypse already if it weren't for you two dumbasses."

"I hear you, brother."

"No, that's just wrong," Sam stopped Zachariah from saying more. "The head angel just doesn't agree with his arch enemy."

"The way I see it, son, you and your brother are my arch enemies right now. Am I wrong?" He asked, turning to Lucifer. The devil nodded vigorously and they high-fived over the table. Dean had the vague impression his head was going to explode any second now.

"But – " Dean tried to save his peace of mind.

"Not buts." Zachariah sighed. "Making you two the vessels, what was He thinking? I swear God is the worst joke-teller ever. He never gets the Pointe right."

"Oh, tell me. You remember that one winter when He was pranking that poor girl in … where was it? Ah, Bethlehem."

"Please, don't remind me. Next thing we knew we had a new religion on our hands. As if we weren't busy enough with only one. And half the time we had to stop Him trying to kill his followers."

"You mean that time in the desert?" Lucifer laughed. "I still remember Aaron complaining that he wants to go back to Egypt, that it was easier to die there. Yeah, good ole' times."

A flash of movement outside the window made both angels turn their heads.

"Is that … ?" Lucifer asked.

"Looks like it," Zachariah answered.

"God, I'd have bet he's dead by now. All this humor in the world and he doesn't understand it the slightest – it must be killing him."

"If not that then the smell from his clothes. Ugh. He still wears the same things I saw him last in. Disgusting."

They both turned around to face the brothers again.

"Why exactly is Castiel running around outside waving his phone in the air?" Zachariah asked.

"Uhm … " Dean shuffled with his feet, turning slightly red.

"Well, " Sam started, "he's … eh … trying to get a signal."

"Did he discover sex hotlines?" Lucifer wanted to know.

"Not exactly … " Now it was Sam's turn to develop a nice shade of red. "He's … well … trying to get the voice to talk to him again."

"The voice?" Zachariah tilted his head.

"Yeah, the voice." Dean cleared his throat. "To be exact, the voice mail."

"Why would he …. Oh." Lucifer's face broke out into a smile and he once again turned around to watch Castiel running in front of the pancake world. "He thinks the voice mail is God. How adorable … in the most stupid way imaginable." He faced Zachariah and was full of glee. "We need to tell God at least one of his jokes made people laugh."

"By the way, God … you don't happen to know where we can find him, do you?" Dean hesitantly asked.

"Oh, what do you think, Lucifer?"

"Probably golfing."

"Yeah," Zachariah agreed. "I hear He has an affinity to a course in Luimneach. But we could never figure out where that is."

"We neither." Lucifer shrugged with his shoulders and stared at his empty plate. "I want another round of pancakes. You, too, ole' friend?" The other angel nodded his approval and Lucifer waived at the waitress who took their orders. Leaving two angels and two very bewildered brothers behind when she left.

"Are they still staring?" Lucifer asked Zachariah.

"Like monkeys."

Lucifer rolled with his eyes and addressed the men standing in front of them. "Listen, boys. The apocalypse ain't starting today, so you can go and get something to eat. Just. Not. Here. Understood?"

"I heard the pancake house in the town over isn't too bad, either," Zachariah offered helpful advice.

"What? Oh, yeah, we'll check that out," Sam said, took his dumbfounded brother by the arm and steered him outside where they picked up Castiel and left.

"Ah, finally, the peace, the quiet." Lucifer leaned back in his seat.

"We should make this a weekly habit, you know? Coming here, just two old friends having a nice little chat," Zachariah proposed.

"Bitching about the idiots who make our lives miserable."

"Yeah."

"Sounds like a good idea."

- fin