Aghk. I'm...really sorry about my lack of updates. Home issues have been affecting my internet access, and soon I won't even have any. So...don't count on much from me in a month or so. But for now, I write to please the public! R & R~
-Grace
"There are two strange men in our office."
"Strange as in, they're creepy, or strange like, we don't know them?"
"..If it's both do I get extra credit?"
"No."
"It's still both. They have guns."
"Oh joy. More guns."
...
Dean watches as Sam unpeels himself from the window, only to smash his face back onto it.
"That's attractive."
Sam is too busy searching the streets for anyone that might be able to save them, when he spots two guys pointing towards the office through the mess of pineapple window stickies.
"We're saved!"
Dean pokes a pineapple lamp. It is not his day. "I'm sure we are Sam."
...
"Should we go in?"
"I think we'll be safe."
"How do you figure?"
"People that meld themselves to windows and make their face all scrunchy like that…they can't be dangerous."
"Right…"
...
When Sam starts banging on the glass with his gorilla fists Dean grabs his jacket and forcefully pries him off the window.
"Sam, chill! Nobody is coming in here to save us from Pineapple Hell!"
Which is of course the exact moment a pineapple archway opens up, and the two men that were on the street walk in.
"Thank you God!" Sam yells, presumably at God, while he scrambles for the exit.
"Sam!" Dean starts chasing after his brother, who has already taken gigantor strides across the street. Dean silently curses Sam's height for the billionth time in his life.
...
"Um. What the heck?"
"I think they really wanted out."
"And they couldn't find the door? It's right here, not that hard to find."
"Shawn. You're kidding right? You turned the office into a racist fruit bowl. I don't think they could see past the pineapple tiles."
"Oh well. They're gone now. Want some cake?"
"No. Because I can smell it, and it's pineapple upside-down cake."
"Killjoy."
...
Sam collapses onto a park bench, once the pineapple room of doom is far behind him. Dean finally runs up, eyeing his brother's hunched figure.
"You okay?"
Sam stops breathing, question halting his thoughts.
"..I just want to leave Dean."
Dean sits beside his brother, wishing he had some beers he could open with his ring, share with Sam, and everything would be alright. Everything would be fine, and they wouldn't be stuck jumping through television shows for life.
"Me too Sam."
At least they hadn't hit a sitcom yet.