Net Knots Chapter 14, a supernatural fanfic

Disclaimer etc, see Chapter 1

NET KNOTS

Chapter 14

Dean was expecting the second screen to go into whatever lure-the-punters sales pitch Sammy's pre-law university education had devised, but instead it was another wasp-like big black letters on bright yellow screen; a warning page, and one with all the subtlety of a half-brick tossed through a jeweller's window:

IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM

AND DON'T KNOW WHERE ELSE TO TURN

CLICK ON THE BUTTON BELOW

TO BE TAKEN TO OUR ENQUIRY FORM

NOTICE!

THE FEE

FOR COMPLETING THE ENQUIRY FORM

IS NON-REFUNDABLE

NO DISCOUNTS

NO EXCEPTIONS

NON NEGOTIABLE

PAY IN ADVANCE

THE FEE TO COMPLETE OUR ENQUIRY FORM:

$50.00 US

YOU MAY PAY USING

ANY MAJOR DEBIT OR CREDIT CARD

OR BY ® OR E-Z-PAY®

Dean turned to look at Sam incredulously. "Fifty bucks for ticking a few boxes online? You've got to be kidding me!"

"Not in the slightest," parried Sam and sighed with annoying little-brother exasperation that Dean obviously didn't 'get it'. "I had to do something to filter out the time-wasters. If I'd left it, from the minute the website went 'live' every college frat-boy and socially maladjusted high-school hacker would be trying to snarl up the site with phoney enquiry forms and thinking it highly amusing to see how fast they could get the site to crash. Or don't you remember that pair of jokers that nearly got us both killed by Mordecai the Tulpa? Trust me, I was a frat boy."

"And a socially maladjusted high-school hacker," Dean tagged on with a grin. "But fifty dollars…"

"That's for the others," Sam ticked them off on his fingers, "The right-wing religious fanatics trying to crash the site because we're obviously agents of Satan out to corrupt American Youth, the left-wing religious fanatics trying to 'make contact' and readjust our thinking to the right Politically Correct inclusiveness because we're not spiritually enlightened enough to understand that all a demon needs is a hug. The out-on-the-fringe streaming live from mom's basement wannabes thinking we're kindred nerds; the self-styled and self-appointed debunkers of all this 'mystical charlatanism' attempting to shut our 'obviously' crackpot and/or conmen asses down; whatever psycho-trist is looking to turn into a New York Times bestseller - and him the next Dr Phil - and whatever journalist with delusions of self-righteous crusading - "

"Whoa, whoa, okay, I'm on board! Yay to the fifty buck charge!" Dean raised a hand to stem the flow.

Sam wound out down. "Sorry, but you know what I mean. That collection of idiots would keep crashing the site and keep it so busy that those genuine cases which actually needed our help would never be able to get through."

"Whereas having to fork out a not insignificant number of dead presidents makes the frat boys et cetera think once, twice and thrice about having fun at our expense. Good thinking, Sammy." Dean agreed, knowing not even the most determined troublemaker was likely to mess with the site more than once if their so-called 'fun' cost them $50 a pop.

"Sam," his brother corrected in what was becoming an automatic reflex. "Click on the next page."

Continued in Chapter 15…