"Lethal beauty. Guns, both metaphorical and literal. THIS…is America's Next Top Hunter!"
As a noisy techno remix of "Carry On My Wayward Son" plays over images of salt-packed shells bursting and figures running across a dark, rainy forest ground.
Each contestant appears as his or her name flashes across the screen, first with a full body shot, then with a close-up.
Dean Winchester flips off the camera as his name floats across the screen.
Sam grimaces.
Bobby folds his arms and rolls his eyes.
Ruby grins at the camera, her eyes flashing black momentarily.
John pumps his shotgun single-handedly.
Ellen narrows her eyes and reaches for her back pocket, but her knife's missing.
Bela holds up Ellen's knife and smile mischievously.
Jo smiles and cocks her handgun.
Ash smoothes his hair back and smiles for the ladies who are undoubtedly swooning.
Gordon looks like he's about to rip someone's head off and probably has recently.
A tall, thin brunette sits behind a gleaming counter, daintily drinking a dark-red acai martini. To her right sits a very uncomfortable-looking Cas, and to her left sits a very angry-looking Uriel. In front of all three stand a hodge-podge mess of very wary-looking people.
She stands up and more than half of the contestants pull out their guns, ready for action. "Hello, contestants, and welcome to America's Next Top Hunter. You will be tested on both your physical appearance and your ability to kill evil – present company excepted of course…"
Ruby shrugs apathetically.
"Who the hell are you, anyway?" Dean growls at the woman.
The woman laughs humorlessly. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me. Well, I guess not, really. Intelligence was never really your strong suit, Dean," she says, her voice silky. Her eyes flash black. "You keep on destroying my meat suits. It's starting to annoy. I suppose blonde was never my color."
Sam nudges Dean with his elbow. "Dean," he says, "it's Meg."
"What the hell's going on, anyway? What is this place," Dean hisses at his brother.
Sam shrugs, his eyes momentarily concerned. But, just as quickly, his face relaxes. "Let's just go with it," he says calmly. Dean gives him a look.
"What are we doing here?" Dean throws out at Meg.
The hunters start to mumble amongst themselves, weapons being drawn again, each shifting away from the other, eyeing everyone in the room. The discontent is ultimately cut short by a stern look from Meg.
She holds up her borrowed hands. "Settle down, boys, there's enough testosterone in the room as it is. Anyway, you're not here to hunt me, are you? You're here to prove that you are America's Next Top Hunter!"
Bela raises her hand. "Sorry, but I'm more of a procurer than a hunter."
The host rolls her eyes. "Close enough. Moving on. To my right, we have Castiel, a good little angel boy who specializes in outerwear and swordplay, and to my left, we have Uriel, who specializes in business casual and…purification."
She turns and looks at the contestants. "You will be tested throughout this competition, and each week, one hunter will have to go back to their motel room, pack up their weapons, and go home…or go back on the road, whichever."
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't take care of you right now," Gordon growls, his body tensing, his hand at the ready.
"The prizes," Meg says sharply. "One million dollars, and a binding contract from Hell that you will never be bothered by any demons or those under our control."
Bela's eyes widen. "Am I to understand that any previous contracts made with Hell would be voided?"
"Sure," Meg says.
Sam nudges Dean again. "Oh c'mon, like we're supposed to believe this," Dean says loudly.
"Ya aren't exactly the trustworthy type, you know," Bobby adds.
Castiel stands up. "It's…true," he says, and sits back down. Everyone looks at him for a few seconds. He is decidedly not looking at everyone.
"Well then, now that that's taken care of," Meg says, clapping her hands. "There's a surprise for you all next door!"
The motley group straggles into the next room, where three targets have been set up in the back and a long table loaded with weapons is off to the side. John grabs his boys by the shoulders and pulls them aside. "Sam, Dean, watch yourself. I don't like the idea of a surprise, and especially not one planned by some demon bitch."
Sam nods. "Sure, Dad," Dean says, looking a bit wary. "I get the feeling that's something messed up here."
John's eyes search Dean's face. "Just watch out for Sammy, Dean. You're the only one's he's got," he says.
"What the hell are you talking about, you're here! Dad–"
John is halfway across the room by the time Dean has decided to close his mouth. The elder Winchester joins the others gathered around the table. Dean looks at Sam, his eyebrows raised. Sam's eyebrows, on the other hand, are lowered over his narrowed eyes. "Dean, we've got to be careful," he whispers.
"I know that!" Dean says, his voice strained. "Everyone keeps telling me that! It's not like I'm going to fall on an ax or something."
"No, something is wrong here, really wrong. What is this place?" Sam says, and then stops.
Dean looks at his brother and watches as Sam's face relaxes again. Panic rises in Dean's throat. "Sammy, what's up with you, anyway? You keep on…" His voice trails off. His face seems to readjust itself. He sighs. "Come on, Sammy. Let's go see what everyone else is doing."
The brothers join the group of contestants. The table is spread with every type of handheld weapon imaginable. Dean grabs a kopis and holds up the curved sword, his eyes wide and confused. "Okay…" he says, putting it the ancient weapon down and picking up a sawed-off shotgun. "That's more like it."
Meg turns to face them, standing in front of the targets. "Accuracy," she says. "Weapons aren't any good to you if you can't hit what you're hunting. Each of you must pick one weapon from the table."
Everyone is already holding a weapon. Meg looks a bit annoyed. "Fine. Well then. First one to hit the far target gets a special bonus during the second part of this—"
There is a sharp bang, and the target falls over. Dean smiles. "You were saying?"
"What the Hell!" Meg says, exasperated. She pauses, looking at the damage. She turns back to Dean, her eyes narrowed. "Congratulations, Dean," she says reluctantly, "you get an advantage in the photo shoot."
"The what?" mostly everyone says.
Everyone except Gordon Walker, who is much too busy trying to sneak up on Ruby. Ruby promptly gives Gordon a withering look and brandishes her knife. Gordon backs off, slowly drawing his finger along his neck.
"Yes, the photo shoot," Meg says, smiling sadistically.
The sun is shining the next morning when Dean and Sam emerge from their motel room. Sam brushes his hair back. "The usual accommodations. You'd think the show would put us up in a hotel or something. So…photo shoot, huh?" he says. "Why are we even here, again?"
"There better be food at this thing," Dean growls. "Anyway, weren't we investigating…something?"
Sam looks up at the sky, his voice suddenly distant. "I'm not even sure anymore."
John waves at them from his own room's doorway, smiling. Sam frowns. "Dean, there's something wrong."
Dean rolls his eyes. "I know! You keep saying that! You don't think I know that?" he says irritably. He grimaces. "Man, I'm hungry…"
Bela saunters into their path. "Hello, boys," she says, smiling. "Just to let you know, I'm going to be winning this photo shoot."
"What makes you so sure?" Sam says, narrowing his eyes.
"Sam, you've got about as much grace as a baby moose," Bela says, laughing. "And that's being generous."
"She kinda right, Sammy—" Dean says, smiling roguishly.
"And you," she says, rounding on him, "don't even let me start on you…"
"Yes, please don't," Ruby says, suddenly appearing. She turns to Sam. "Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Uh, sure?" he replies, his brow wrinkling.
The two walk off, Dean too preoccupied arguing with Bela to notice. Ruby looks up at Sam. "I don't know how much of this has been weirding you out, but I thought you should know that I'm getting some definitely unnatural vibes from all of this…and…" Her voice becomes sleepy. She yawns. "What was I saying?"
Sam scratches the back of his head. "I'm not sure."
Ruby's eyes light up. "Oh yeah! Gordon tried to kill me at least two times last night. Could you say something to him about it? It's getting on my nerves. I want to hold off on finding another body for at least the rest of this show."
"Sure," Sam says. "But I think he hates me almost as much as he hates you."
Ruby thinks for a moment. "True," she says shortly, and strides off towards the contestant carpool.
He stands there, not quite sure what he should be doing. Dean walks up and grabs his arm. "C'mon, Sammy, time to go be attractive," he says.
The photography set is filled with vegetation and an assortment of old weapons when the contestants file in. Meg is standing in the center, smiling coldly. "Welcome, hunters," she says. "Welcome to your first photo shoot."
Dean glances at Jo, who winks at him. She mimes shooting a gun. "Rather be doing that type of shooting, you know?" she whispers.
"I'd like to introduce your photographers. From the renowned Ghostfacers Photography and Paranormal Studio, here's Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler!"
Ed and Harry walk onto the set, Ed motioning for them to hold the nonexistent applause. "Listen up, fellow purveyors into the unknown, we've got an awesome shoot lined up for you today."
"An amazing shoot," Harry interjects.
"The most incredible thing you've ever had to model your man—"
"—Or lady—"
"—beauty…at. Behold!"
Corbett, smiling sheepishly, wheels out a rack of skimpy tan outfits.
"You will be portraying the native hunters of the Aztecs!" Harry said proudly.
Ed frowned. "I was supposed to tell them that," he hissed at Harry.
"Sorry, gosh—"
"The Aztecs! A noble race of supernaturally aware people!" Ed cries, throwing up his hands.
"What in—" Ellen starts.
"You there!" Ed says, pointing at Dean. "Texas asshole dude. You apparently won some advantage. Corbett?"
Corbett hurries over, holding a tiger headdress. "You have got to be kidding me," Dean gasps.
"This is your advantage!" Harry says. "Everyone else, suit up!"
Dean gives Sam a shocked look. Sam is too focused on how small the clothing looks.
"Come on, give us a fierce look!" Ed yells at Bobby.
Bobby stands there, dressed in nothing but a loincloth and a cape, glaring daggers at Ed and Harry. Coincidentally enough, he is also holding a dagger.
Ed sighs and clicks a few more pictures. "Pretend you're looking at some sort of creature, like a—"
"A couple of idjits like you?" Bobby growls.
"I—I think we're good" Ed says. "Next!"
Ruby is dressed in a close-fitting dress, holding a spear. "Pretend like you're aiming at something!" Ed calls helpfully.
"Oh, I don't have to pretend," she replies, aiming the weapon at Harry, who screams a little.
"Next!" Ed says quickly.
"Okay, you're a fearsome warrior…"
"…a hunter of the deadliest prey…"
"…deep in the heart of the forest," Ed finishes, clicking off a few pictures.
John Winchester, holding a sword, sighs. "You know, I already am all of those things. And I don't think this weapon is actually accurate. You guys probably should have done a bit more research—"
"Next!" Harry says.
"If you make one comment about my ass, I will end you," Jo says.
Harry snickers. The snickers turn into screams when Jo aims her bow and arrow at him. "Don't think I don't know how to use this," she growls.
Ed continues clicking off pictures. "Ahh this is so good, keep doing that, yeah, work it!"
"Ed, she's going to hurt me…!"
"Just dodge the arrow if it comes towards you, it's not that hard."
"What?"
Ed rolls his eyes. "Fine…next!"
"Did you look at my daughter's ass?" Ellen says, looking very regal and very, very dangerous.
"Ooh, yeah, keep that going," Ed says, bouncing around, the camera clicking over and over.
"Uh—no, no of course not!" Harry splutters.
"Good. We done here?" she says.
"Sure," Ed says, a little disappointed. "Why are you people in such a hurry to get this over with?"
"Next!" Harry calls.
"Dr. Badass is a go!" Ash says, striking a pose with the machete, brandishing his chest proudly.
Harry and Ed stand there awkwardly, apparently taken aback by this enthusiasm. Harry nudges Ed, who snaps back into photographer mode, clicking the camera and moving around Ash.
"Be sure to get 'em all, man, all ya pictures," Ash says.
"I…I think we're good, thanks," Ed says, looking at Harry.
"Uh, yeah, thanks," Harry adds.
"Sure thing, see ya guys later," Ash says, striding off the set.
Gordon Walker stands on the set, his body frozen, his eyes on fire. "The only reason you two aren't dead right now is that you're both innocent," he growls, clutching a crossbow.
Ed takes one picture.
"Next!" Harry yelps.
Bela moves her hips to one side, smiling seductively. Ed and Harry both gulp. She holds the blow dart gun gently and strikes another pose. Ed starts clicking off pictures, Bela continuing to move from pose to pose to pose.
"Thanks," Ed says weakly as Bela saunters off.
This is probably his worst nightmare. Maybe even worse than those visions he used to have.
Sam Winchester is standing half-naked in front of the Ghostfacers, who are attempting to hold a photo shoot.
He grimaces, gripping the staff in his hand. He attempts to strike something resembling a pose, but it's as if his arms suddenly have a mind of their own, or they were somehow possessed by a malevolent spirit who didn't want him to win this.
"You're good," Ed calls over. "Hey, jerkwad!"
Sam looks up, startled. "Uh, yeah?"
"You can go now," Harry says, rolling his eyes.
"Ah, thanks, yeah," Sam mumbles, walking off set. That hadn't gone well.
"This is ridiculous," Dean growls from beneath a tiger headdress.
"Come on, you're the chief!" Harry whines.
Ed nods. "Yeah, you're like the head honcho in a poncho," he calls.
"That might be kind of offensive," Harry whispers.
"Do a pose!" he tells Dean.
Dean flicks him off. "How's that for a pose, buddy?" he says.
"It's your funeral, buddy," Ed replies. The camera repeatedly clicks.
"We done? Cool. The snack bar's that way, right?"
"Yeah," Harry says.
"Great. Later!" Dean says, walking off in the direction of food. Harry and Ed shake their heads at each other.
Back in their regular clothes, Sam and Dean walk back to their motel room. "How do you think we did?" Dean says. "As if it really matters."
"It does matter!" Sam said, slightly shocked. "If you win this, your crossroads deal will be off!"
"Yeah, I don't know, Sammy. This all seems a bit…off to me still."
Dean unlocks the door to their motel room and freezes. A folded piece of paper lies on the ground just inside the doorway. Sam looks over his shoulder. "What is it?" he asks.
"What does it look like? It's a note," Dean says, bending down and picking it up. He opens it, and starts to read aloud. "Tomorrow you will meet with the judges. Only nine of you will continue on in the hopes of becoming America's Next Top Hunter."
"That doesn't sound good," Sam says.
"Well, what did you expect? It's a competition. We gotta compete."
"Yeah, I know," Sam replies, flopping down onto one of the beds. "I just hope I didn't mess this up."
Dean sits down on the edge of the other bed, crumpling the note up and throwing it at the trash basket. It misses. "I'm sure you did fine, Sammy. I mean, you're not the good-looking one in the family, but the ladies seem to like you fine."
Sam laughs a little. "Thanks?"
Dean kicks off his shoes. "Rest up, butterface. We gotta big day tomorrow."
The next day, tensions in the judging room are high. The ten contestants stand opposite Meg, who is holding a large bag in her hand. Castiel and Uriel are emotionless, but Harry and Ed seem to be unable to contain their glee.
"I have ten beautiful hunters standing before me, but I only have nine fake F.B.I. badges in my hands," she says, "and these badges represent the nine of you that will still be in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Hunter. But first, let's take a look at your photos."
Bobby appears on the screen set in the right wall. He appears to be mid-snarl.
"Bobby, what were you thinking about during this photo?" Meg asks.
"About how idiotic those photographers were," Bobby says plainly.
Harry and Ed both gasp, offended.
Ruby's photo appears now, holding a spear threateningly. "This is nice," Meg says. "Very fierce."
"You seem to capture the violence inherent in such primitive beings," Uriel adds.
Castiel gives him a warning look.
John, looking a bit bemused, now appears. The two angels nod. "Decent," Meg says.
Jo's anger in her photo contrasts with the relative calm of her mother's. "Good, very good," Meg comments on each. Harry and Ed high-five each other.
"A little…over the top," Castiel says when Ash's photo comes up. "But in a good way. A brave way."
It's now Uriel's turn to give Castiel a look. "Really? A mud-monkey like that? It looks like he doesn't know whether he's a girl or a boy!"
Ash points at his hair. "Don't diss the mullet," he says seriously.
Gordon's photo is appropriately terrifying. No one says anything.
"Wow," Meg says when Bela's photo appears. "Someone's had some practice."
Bela smiles. "I do try," she says smoothly.
Meg winks at her. "I bet you do."
Castiel clears his throat.
Sam, standing off-kilter and looking extremely put-upon, appears on the screen. Dean suppresses a snicker. Sam jabs him with his elbow. "A good, solid effort," Meg says, also resisting bursting out into laughter. "And finally…"
Dean's photo appears. He's flicking off the photographer.
"Very interesting. It's as if you are embodying the primal spirit of the Aztecs in one rude protest," Meg says.
"I guess…?" Dean says, a bit surprised.
"Now for those who are still in the competition," Meg says, opening the bag in her hand. "Bela, will you please step forward."
Bela steps up, turning back to wink at Sam. "Congratulations," Meg says, handing her a fake I.D. "You are still in the running to become America's Next Top Hunter."
As each name is called, hunters step forward to receive their badge and join the others off to the side. Ellen is called, then Ash, Dean, Ruby, Jo, John, and Gordon. Finally, the only two left are Bobby and Sam.
"Will Bobby and Sam please step forward?" Meg says. After they have done so, she continues, "I have two beautiful hunters standing before me, but I have only one fake I.D. left, and this fake I.D. represents the one of you that will still be in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Hunter. I will only call one name, and the hunter that I do not call must immediately return to your motel room, pack your weapons, and go home.
"Sam, please step forward. Your bewilderment in this situation was quite a surprise to the judges here. We thought for sure that you would have had some modeling experience, or at least had seen a magazine once in your life. Please step back.
"Bobby, please step forward. You didn't even cooperate, not one bit. You were being an overall ass. Please step back.
"Sam, you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Hunter."
Sam breathes a sigh of relief. Bobby shrugs. "Not really my thing," he says unconcernedly. He turns to Sam. "You take care of yourself, Sam. And watch out for your brother."
Sam nods, takes the badge from Meg, and joins the others.
"Well, I guess that's it," Bobby says. "See ya."
He turns and walks away.
He disappears from the group composite photo of the contestants.