Twelve Days Of Angstmas: Day Ten- Mr. Fizzles
Characters: Mr. Fizzles, Garth
Word Count: 392
Summary: The Funeral of Mr. Fizzles. Enough said.
Spoilers: Set soon after episode 7.18, Party On, Garth
Disclaimer: Dishonor on me, dishonor on my family, dishonor on my cow. For alas, Supernatural is still not mine. (nor is that quote from Mulan, by the way)
A/N: I… I'm sorry, I have no idea where this came from. This is… I killed him. What did I go and do that for? Not only did I write a oneshot with Garth's sock puppet as the focus, I killed him. This is why I should not have caffeine. Ever. Anyway, in other news, I posted the previous chapter just earlier today, so if you haven't read it yet, well, it's there. Do what you want. Now, on with the show!
Mr. Fizzles
"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've gathered you here today.
"No? Well, I'm telling you anyway.
"We are here to celebrate one of the bravest souls this world has ever known. He was cruelly taken from us today at approximately 4:15 in the afternoon. Yes, my friends, that is correct. Mr. Bartholomew Fizzles has passed away.
"Never a kinder person was there than Mr. Fizzles. He was always the best known for the niceness and love he showed to all children he encountered in his line of work. As his former partner, I know better than anyone else that this ability helped to save so many lives.
"As he saved mine.
"Yes, and I say that with the deepest of sorrow. Mr. Fizzles sacrificed himself so that I could live on.
"...It was my own fault, really. I went into a hunt ill informed. What I thought was a fire denizen turned out to be a dragon.
"I barely escaped with my life, and this only because of the brave actions my friend took for my sake.
"It was a stormy afternoon, and the streets were all but abandoned. I was running, I am not ashamed to admit, for as I said, I did not have any materials that would have let me deal with a dragon. The beast was gaining on me, drawing ever nearer.
"Then, Mr. Fizzles made his move. In a heart stopping moment of bravery, he flung himself right at the face of the dragon.
"You may think that this would be ineffectual. And truly, had he been anything else but what he was, it would have been so. But the dragon was so stunned to have collided head-on with a sock puppet that even as Mr. Fizzles crumbled to ash, the dragon stopped in its tracks, and I was able to escape."
"Later, I was able to go back and collect some of this ashes. These are what I bury now."
Garth threw one last shovelful of dirt onto the small wooden box, and then proceeded to stick a tiny grave marker into the ground.
"Goodbye, Mr. Fizzles. You will be missed."
With that, the hunter turned from the scene and left, wiping away his tears as he made his way through the imaginary masses.
No one wanted to come to a sock puppet's funeral.