headcanon: the metal part on the ruler actually does have a purpose
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Gretel MacBerns sat down with a thud at the bar in the Old Cursed Lucky Rabbit's Foot Saloon, and immediately asked the bartender for the most potent drink he had.
"Long day?" he asked, his eyebrows upturned in concern.
"Hon, you don't know long," she drawled. "Not until you've had the day I just had."
"Tell me 'bout it. Business' slow a'night," he said, a cheesy yet genuine smile gracing his supple lips.
"The story's all a bit crazy. I dunno if y'all'd even believe me."
"I'd believe anything after a few of our Cursed Lucky Rabbit's Feet," the bartender chuckled warmly.
"Well, here goes," began MacBerns. And so she recounted the tale of Little Miss Trench Coat, as she called her.
"So, I teach, uh, History down at LSNHSFTAIONWDRCH. And there's these two young ladies who's always gettin' up to troubles. They are...the Nguyenchesters. But it's spelled W-I-N. And they are a bit off in the head, reasonable gals mostly, lest they're talkin' up the town 'bout them demons they say they fight."
"Nah, we haven't had much demons 'round here of late," the bartender said interruptingly.
"Their names are Samantha and Deanna. Horrid names, really. Well, the slightly older one-y'see, they're twins-Deanna, was in my make-up finals class. And that's always real full, y'know, kids skippin' schools and stuff. So she was takin' the final, doing whatever kids do whilst they take finals-"
"Uhm, ma'am, I think they just take finals," chimed in an elderly man in a spiky leather jacket.
"SHADDUP!" howled MacBerns. "It's mah story, and I wanna tell it without any interruptions. So if anyone else don't want to listen, that's their problem, but don't go talkin' while I'm talkin'." She broadened the attention in the room, attracting a small crowd of curious onlookers.
"Wells, Deanna was takin' her test all normal-like, 'til all of a sudden we all heard this light EEEEeeeEEiiieEEin' sound, and Deanna fell straight as she could out of her chair. We all thought it was one 'a them new-fangled door alarms, and I figured Deanna was just over-reaktin'."
"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm afraid you just misspelled reacting," a voice piped up Britishly. "How do you even misspell spoken English?"
"A'LL SPELL THINGS HOW I WANNA SPELL 'EM!" hollered the elderly teacher. "Remember, if ya'll don't wanna listen, just make sure ye best not interrupt.
"Now, Deanna was all on the floor and such, and this madwoman in a tan coat - a trench coat, I do believe they're called - came a runnin' in! I thought she was a school official, dun from the way her bun was all done up all severe-like. She looked like the vice-principal's wife's sister's husband's daughter's husband's daughter's mother!"
"Sorry, miss, but could you shorten that to real relatives?"
"SHUT YA DAMN MOUTH!" she hollered Southernly.
"Sorry, miss," squeaked the previous commenter shamefully.
"Well, anyways, the madwoman in the trench coat ran her way over to Deanna and started eeeieEEEEieiing at us! All crazy! She put two fingers on Deanna's head and the poor girl was out cold! And then she pulled her up into her arms - "
"Excuse me, sorry, but, could use use a better sentence structure than 'and' all the time? You sound like a kindergartener! All 'and then this happened' and 'and then that happened!' And then it just makes it all a bit less interesting for us! Make it more dynamic!"
"NOW YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I'll tell it how I wanna tell it. All honesty, though, it's a pretty good suggestion. Think I'll go with it.
"So the madwoman in the trench coat - "
"S'cuse me, miss?! If you're taking suggestions on how to tell it, you could use a bit of characterization. Like, when you talk about the woman in the trench coat, you could act like the woman in the trench coat - ?"
"WELL, THAT'S JUST actually not that bad of a suggestion. Thank'y kindly.
"So the madwoman in the trench coat - " she commenced, her posture perfect, rigid, her hand clasped to her neck as if she was wearing a tie - "pulled up poor little Deanna Winchester up in her arms - "
"Ma'am?"
"YES?"
"I just think it'd be a better story if you told us how she held her. Like, if you gave us a little bit of motions - ?"
"Can do," she regretted, and then continued with her story.
"So, she held her like this, with one arm - "
"S'cuse me, ma'am! Can you - show the motion instead of telling us how it is?"
MacBern grunted, but complied. She held her arm out as if she was grasping Deanna's arm ever so gently, but still with enough heavenly force to leave a small, red handprint that would never truly fade.
"And she dragged Deanna away, but first - - she grabbed this ruler, and held it out, metal side first, a-glarin' - "
"Pardon, missus, but how do you hold a ruler with the metal side forward?"
"It was like this," she motioned, holding up her drink cup as though it was a ruler.
"Well, if she was holding it metal-side forward, how comes you was holdin' it like a sword when you was tellin' the story? I just think you could use a li'l more continuity."
"Well, she picked up the ruler like this - " MacBern held out her ruler like a sword - "and then switched it right to this - " and with this she held it the way she had shown - "and then she said - 'Back off my hunter!'"
"Ma'am, I just think you ought to change your voice and accent a bit when you're talking as the madwoman in the trench coat," a voice piped up. MacBern sighed and ordered a fifth Cursed Lucky Rabbit's Foot.
"Back off my hunter!" repeated MacBern, her voice slightly gruffer, more respectable and suburban.
"Miss? If you're taking tips on the voice, maybe a bit more inflect - "
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, IMBECILE! Bartender, another one, please," said MacBern. "Anyways, the madwoman in the trench coat started a hissin' at us all, and she waved the metal part of that ruler at us like she was tryin' to decapritate us!"
"S'cuse me, ma'am, the word is decapitate!"
"That's what I said."
"You said 'decrapitate.'"
"Nah, I heard her plain as day. She said 'decapritate!'"
"WE ALL KNOW WHAT SHE MEANT! LET'S GET BACK TO THE STORY!" the bartender shouted, already preparing her another Cursed Lucky Rabbit's Foot.
"Actually, sorry, I don't really know what she meant by drecapcitate!"
"IT MEANS TO CUT SOMEONE'S DAMN HEAD OFF!"
"S'cuse me, ma'am, if it means to cut someone's head off, why didn't you say to cut yer heads off?"
"SHUT UP, MY WORD CHOICE IS MY GOD GIVEN RIGHT, BUSINESS, AND PRIVILEGE!"
"S'cuse me, ma'am, what does preveladge mean?"
She ignored him. "I've got a story to finish.
"So the madwoman was a runnin' all crazy-like, holdin' poor Deanna - still asleep through the whole ordeal - and callin' us 'hellspawn' and 'obstructions in God's plan - '"
"S'cuse me, ma'am, what does obsticshuns mean?"
"The word is obstructions. If you've got any more questions, please consult a dictionary," the British man piped.
"I believe it's pronounced dickshinairy," someone said.
"Pardon me, sir, but that was horribly misspelled. Please do not ever do that again."
MacBerns waited for the noise to die down before she continued once again.
"So, anyways, obstructions in God's plan. The madwoman was all a-yellin', and she was stabbin' at my students with the metal edge of the ruler, not really doin' much damage, and I was just on the phone with security, tellin' 'em, 'There's a madwoman with a trench coat in my classroom a-kidnappin' Deanna Winchester, and she ain't got a gun but she's got a ruler! And poor Deanna, she ain't even awake to see it all!"
"S'cuse me, ma'am? But, when you picked up the fake phone, you just started talking in it. You didn't dial any numbers or nothing."
"Yeah, ma'am, maybe you should just start that whole scene over!"
"Right from the beginnin'!"
"Where from?" asked the elderly woman, boredom and irritation on her heavy-lined face.
"Back from obstructions in God's plan!"
"You mean my last sentence after you guys interrupted me the last time?"
"Yeah!"
"Not on God's green Earth, I won't! No matter how green or how godly! Now where was I? Ah, yeah, the madwoman was all a-yellin', and she was stabbin' at my students with the metal edge of the ruler, not really doin' much damage, and I was just on the phone with security, tellin' 'em, 'There's a madwoman with a trench coat in my classroom a-kidnappin' Deanna Winchester, and she ain't got a gun but she's got a ruler! And poor Deanna, she ain't even awake to see it all!"
"S'cuse me, ma'am! You just repeated the whole thing, but you still didn't dial any numbers!"
"Well, I don't need to dial numbers on my own fingers, all damn right? You listen to me, and you listen to my god forsaken story!
"And the security man, he's a nice fellow named Mike, said, 'What God's-Damn-Hell prank are you trying to pull on me?'"
"S'cuse me, miss, why would the security people be swearin'?"
"MAYBE HE HAD A GODDAMN HEADACHE, ARNOLD, SHUT YER FREAKIN' HELL-BLESSED MOUTH!"
"S'cuse me, ma'am, but can you be sure that the security guards were the ones swearin', and it wasn't all you like it is now?"
MacBern heaved her empty Cursed Lucky Rabbit's Foot glass at Arnold's head, a murderous rage in her eyes. "YOU SHUT YER DAMN MOUTH, ARROGANT FOOL, OR I'LL ORDER TEN MORE 'A THESE JUST TO THROW 'EM AT YER HEAD!"
The bartender deftly prepared ten more drinks.
"S'cuse me, Arnold, sir, are you sure you can call what she just said swearing? I'm not sure hell-blessed is even a real thing."
"I can assure you it is not," said the British man, pretentiously combing his hair with an olive on a toothpick.
"I'm sure I've heard that before!"
"Are you sure that's a real thing?"
"Oh, you betcha!" piped in a new Midwesterner who had only caught the tail end of the story. "Now, what's this racket all about?"
"Well," started Arnold, "Miss MacBerns over here saw a madwoman in a trench coat kidnapping one of her students with a ruler. It was real right awful."
"Excuse me, sir," said the Midwesterner, "but can you use a little better sentence structure when you recap?"
The bartender began preparing a round of drinks for Arnold, and MacBerns went off on a tangent.
"So, I'd dun called security, and I was a waitin' for them to send someone up to get this madwoman, and we was all hidin' over in one corner of the classroom while the madwoman was doin' something, all a-starin' at us and tryin' to focus real hard. And then - whoosh! There was this great light and a bit more shriekin', and she was gone! And so was Deanna! And so was the ruler! And I was terrified, then, cuz I'd just lost a student that I was sworn by law to protect! Oh, poor Deanna Winchester! She was - "
"S'cuse me, ma'am, is there gonna be a commercial break anytime soon? I really gots ta go ta the bathroom!"
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The impatient commercial man returned from the bathroom, and just in time, for MacBerns was about to resume her story. She'd finished off about ten Cursed Lucky Rabbit's Feet, and had needed to take a short pause to vomit on the welcoming hardwood floor. It was much less welcoming now that it was covered in vomit.
Her words were slurred and at times nonsensical, but she continued the tale of Little Miss Trench Coat, even though the madwoman herself was not much of a part of it.
"TELL THE GODDAMN STORY ALREADY!" Arnold shouted at the vomiting woman, shaking his fist with the rage of a Trump supporter who had just seen his own son kiss another man in public.
"Bartender, another drink?"
"Already on it, ma'am." Legally, he should have already cut her off. But the bartender had no sense of legality.
"So," she commenced.
"S'cuse me, ma'am, you're not supposed to start sentences with so, or um, or any other things like that." This next commenter was rapidly escorted from the premises.
MacBerns continued her story, hoping that the last interruption would, truly, be the last.
"The madwoman in the trench coat - she had disappeared in the flash of the most heavenly of lights, and I swear for all of five seconds I saw a halo around her head! A HALO, PEOPLE! I swear, she was an angel!
"And then, just me, I heard this voice.
"So beautiful. So sweet and soft and gentle, almost lullin' me to sleep. And you know what it said?
"'Deanna Winchester is saved.'
"That's what the voice said. And so I ran out of the classroom, all confused at how they thought finals was so bad, and I followed this track of light in my mind all the way to my car, and I drove all the way up to a field, a big field, all filled with paper, and I saw the most o-holiest homosexuality I ever did see! That angel, that madwoman in the trench coat, she was all glowin' in rainbows and such, and Deanna, she was kissin' her!
"And that was not in a holy way.
"And all this time, the two of them was scatterin' paper everywhere! Dunder Mifflin!
"But then I saw this thing in the gay angel's eyes, and I screamed bloody hell, Deanna turned to me and she seemed to understand something, but the homosexual angel turned on me an' I just started runnin', like I was bein' chased by Lucifer himself! And Deanna, poor girl - just knocked out cold again! And I swear, when I outran that gay angel, I swear I knew what was in her eyes. And I'll tell you, it was - "
Gretel MacBurns fell to the floor, an arrow protruding from the base of her neck. She was dead.
"S'cuse me, ma'am, could you not die in the middle of the story? It kinda puts us at a bit of a cliffhanger!"
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A/N
SOOO LONG! sorry it was so long but I just had to tell you guys the whole story! I CANT WAIT TO WRITE MORE! I bet you can't wait to read more either! I LOVE YOU ALL so much this is so much fun to write, luv yall
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