First off, sorry for the late update, I didn't have any time to type!

Tam1970 – thank you for the favorite and the review!

The Mysterious Shadow – yup! ;) and he probably has no idea he did… :D

Kirabaros – It's not just a Cass thing, as you'll see here… ;)

Venesa – thanks! And I wish I could keep Deanna, but unfortunately Dean won't stand for it! :D

TheJokerBD – the Destiel bit was for Leilabeth 'cause she requested it.

Leilabeth – thanks for the review and for putting me as favorite author! :D

Kaecdragon – thanks for the tip about the dog! And great idea! :D

Aneywinchester – Dean thought up the prank this time! :D

Celticmaiden : thanks for the review, story alert and the favorite! :)

Someoneunknown – considering this is a humor fic, and utter nonsense, they're supposed to seem childish and immature! And who'll laugh at deadly pranks? We'll all be too worried about the Winchester brothers and Castiel to appreciate the prank! :D and if you want something lethal, search for fics in the Hurt/Comfort, Adventure, Tragedy or Drama genres, I'm sure you'll find something good in there! :)

DISCLAIMER: The dog at the end of the chapter is all thanks to Kaecdragon! Otherwise it's all mine! (Yes, I am quite capable of thinking on my own, people) :D


CHAPTER ELEVEN: GABE'S GREEN THUMB

Dean yawned widely as he drove back to their motel at 5:30 in the morning. The road was deserted and he was going at around 85 miles per hour. He looked over to his brother in the passenger seat, fast asleep, head leaned against the window. Castiel was curled up in the backseat.

"We're going to die," Sam said sleepily. "You know that, right? Either that, or we're going to jail."

"Go back to sleep, Sammy," Dean replied. "Besides, there's no one on the road. I can do 160 and no one will care. Everyone's asleep."

"We could be too," Sam muttered, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "If you hadn't dragged us down here in the middle of the night to set up the prank."

"With great power, comes great responsibility."

"How is that even related to this context?"

"I dunno, Sammy…look, I'm tired, ok. Just go back to sleep, and I'll wake you up when we get back to the motel."

"I can't go back to sleep. I'm wide awake."

Dean sighed. They drove in silence for a while, wind rushing in through the open windows. Suddenly, a drowsy voice came from the back seat.

"Gabriel is going to be mad!"

The three of them laughed all the way back to the motel.


Gabriel was watching a late night horror movie about zombies. and he was bored beyond belief. Really? All they do is 'Aaaargh'? Please, zombies seem more evolved than these people. And where do all the guns and ammo come from? It's not like the average person has an arsenal ready, locked and loaded in case of a zombie attack…

A noise interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the time – 5: 52 am. He stood up, put on his bathrobe and went over to the door to check it out. He peered outside through the glass, but there was nothing there. He frowned. He was sure he had heard something. He pulled open the door and stepped out. He looked around, clutching the ends of his bathrobe together. He saw something in the middle of his lawn. He started towards it but froze when he heard a click. He looked down at his foot, eyes widening when he saw he had stepped on a button of some sort. And he had just pushed it.

He didn't even have time to blink, before the explosion took place. Something wet and sticky splattered him and covered his entire body. He stumbled blindly around the lawn, when he heard a second click. And a third. And a fourth. Before he knew it, bombs were exploding all over the place, hurling more of the sticky stuff at him.

"AAAARGH!" he yelled, running around the lawn, which only resulted in more bombs exploding, and him getting a mouthful of…of… "NOOOOO!" he sputtered, clawing at his mouth. "NOT MORE POOP!" he wailed. The stench was registering now, and it swept him off his feet, literally. He fell into the muck, face first, which made him gag and throw up everything he had eaten the previous day.

The neighbors were waking up, coming to the windows to find out why he was making such a racket so early in the morning. When they saw the covered–in-muck human–like creature (he was almost unrecognizable), more than a few of them called the police.


The rest of Gabriel's day was spent in the station, explaining to the police why he was exploding manure bombs in his garden. "You could very well fertilize it by hand, it ain't that difficult, ya know," the inspector said, shaking his head, hand over his nose and mouth. "You people are always looking for shortcuts."

When the archangel finally trudged home, still slathered with the muck, it was already 10 o' clock in the night. He opened the door, thinking how to murder Castiel, Sam and Dean, when his dog showed up, also covered from head to rapidly wagging tail in the very poop that was now adorning his lawn.

"Alright, let's go have a bath," Gabriel said, scooping up the terrier. Then he stepped into his home, and his mouth fell open. The entire place looked like it had been ransacked by intestinally challenged cattle. The windows… he realized with a sinking feeling, turning towards the French windows which he had left wide open, giving the flying poop entry into the house.

He sniffled. This day cannot get any worse!

Suddenly, his computer beeped. He had mail. He went over to the computer, wiped the poop off the screen and clicked on the link sent to him by someone unknown. A YouTube video pooped up, showcasing him being bombed by the poop squad. They had cameras on me! He gulped as he saw himself pirouetting across the lawn, being hit by showers of manure. The video had over 10 million views and 32,000 comments.

They're dead.


Review please! :D