Disclaimer: Once again, I have to express my deepest regret that I do not own Supernatural
Once again, the Winchester brothers/sisters stood awkwardly together, glancing around for help and wondering what the hell to do.
In front of them, a middle aged, fat woman was busy getting her makeup done by a nineteen year old girl, whose hair was pulled tightly back from her face in a long, blond pony tail. She wore large hoop earrings and her face was heavily made up. Not the type of girl the younger Winchester usually got along with, but at least she seemed to know what she was doing, Sam thought.
The middle-aged lady got up and left, without so much as a thank you to the girl. She sighed and turned to the Winchesters. "So, who's first?" she said, through a mouthful of gum. Sam was unsurprised when Dean shoved him ahead.
The girl gestured to the seat and Sam sat down stiffly, just remembering to cross his legs, as females seemed to do.
"Have anything in mind?" The girl asked, riffling through the many bottles of foundation to find Sam's skin tone.
"No, just... err... just something formal. You know?" Sam stuttered eyeing the bottles fearfully. "I've got somewhere to be..."
The girl nodded and went ahead with slapping brown goo across his face. Then she picked up something that looked like a torture instrument.
"What the hell is that?!" Sam exclaimed, pushing himself further into the back of the chair.
The girl frowned, looking at him as though he was possessed. "...an eyelash curler."
Sam glanced over at Dean, who was looking at the thing as though it was about to catch fire.
"Right... okay. It's just... err... I've never really used one before, you know?" said Sam, trying to calm himself down.
"Okay..." said the girl, still looking at him weird. "Just hold still, okay?" And she proceeded to grasp Sam's eyelashes between the instrument, while the terrified man/woman sat like a rabbit in headlights, terrified she would rip out his eyelashes. After what felt like years, she released them and started applying mascara. Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
The next half hour was taken up by Dean snickering, Sam glaring at him and Sam wondering what the fudge the woman was putting on his face, before she finally held up a mirror in front of his face.
The younger Winchester stared at his reflection. At his smoky eyes, curly eyelashes, bronzer, that highlighted his high cheekbones, and dark red lipstick. He had to admit it; he pulled off a pretty good woman.
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Jesus, Sammy. If you can look like that, imagine how hot I'm gonna look." Then he grinned and swaggered over to the seat like he owned the place.
The impala pulled up outside 213 Elm Street and Dean handed Sam his fake journalist badge.
"Can't believe that bitch moved in already." Dean muttered, getting out of the car. "The girl only died a weak ago!"
"And was only found yesterday," Sam added, following suite.
The Winchesters walked up to the door, adjusting their blouse collars as they went, and buzzed the intercom.
"What?" Britney's voice answered.
Dean gritted his teeth while Sam did the talking. "Hi! We're reporters. Here to ask you a few questions about Sophie McMillian."
"Well thanks, but no thanks."
"You'll get your face in the paper." Sam added, quickly. There was a pause before a loud beep was heard and the door opened, allowing them entry to the haunted flat.
I'm sorry this is late.
BTW, if you're into youtube comedy vids, I have a youtube channel: channel/UCJtT47q-1iqv9ckvYJqqsLg
And a vid where I talk about procrastination (featuring me dressed up as Sam, Dean and Cas ;D ) : watch?v=FEbkK65UVXI