Author's Note: Okay, I can explain this. Really. I can. Just…give me a minute.
………
Okay, so I can't explain it, except by saying I was in the fitting room again, and decided to challenge myself to do something I never had before. So here is my answer to my own challenge: a story written entirely in dialogue.
As for the Harry Potter Clue thing—well, I was playing it with my sister and a couple of friends a few days ago, and it was so thoroughly mockable that I decided to draw attention to it.
"I can't believe I've come down so far."
"Aw, c'mon, Dean, it's not that bad."
"No, Sam, actually, it is that bad. Last week I was a hunter, crusader for the good guys, and now? Now I'm just some lame-ass dude—"
"You're still a hunter."
"Thanks for trying, Niko, but until the snow stops I really am just some guy playing freakin' Harry Potter Clue with his psychic brother, a Buddhist ninja, and a half-breed human."
"Hey, I resent that."
"Yeah, well, I resent this situation—okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just put that away, man!"
"You know, Dean, sometimes I suspect that you try to irritate me. It's really very suicidal of you."
"Uh….yeah…whose turn is it, anyway?"
"Nice save…Sam's, I think."
"No, Cal, I just went. It's Niko's turn."
"All right. Dice, please…why do I roll all the Dark Marks?"
"Your card, sir."
"You are enjoying this far too much, little brother."
"What's it say?"
"'You touch a trophy in the trophy room, only to find that it has been turned into a Portkey. Lose five House Points.' Now, really, in book four, when Harry touched a trophy-turned-Portkey, he was hurtled toward his doom in the form of Lord Voldemort. Don't you think that should be worth more points than finding a loose troll in the castle, which is worth fifteen points and which Harry and Ron took care of when they were eleven years old?"
"………"
"Seriously, Nik, your knowledge of Harry Potter is just disturbing to me."
"Yes, well, your affinity for mystery meat is disturbing to me, but you never even try to temper that."
"Oh, just shut up and move, Cyrano."
"All right…six spaces…hand me a help card, please? …Felix Felicis. Wonderful. The most useless card in the game, which you would think would get me out of anything, being liquid luck."
"It's not the most useless card in the game. You're forgetting Dumbledore."
"Ah, yes, the most powerful wizard of all time, who is incapable of doing anything except glaring sternly when your things are stolen from your room. Thank you, Sam."
"Just here to help. Cal's turn."
"Okay…hey, whaddya know, Dark Mark again. Let's see…'Cormac McLaggen has accidentally swallowed a love potion and can't take his eyes off you…' Well, you guys are safe….and how did I get stuck with the girl character, anyway?"
"It was fun for the rest of us and you weren't fast enough. What are your help cards?"
"Uh…Snape and…a broom. What am I supposed to do, beat him to death with it?"
"I believe the idea is to fly far away, but your idea also has merit. Dean."
"Okay…hey, cool, ten…I'll make an accusation now."
"Oka. Who, what, and where?"
"Fat face, in the library, with the loud crying baby."
"Umbridge, in the library, with the mandrake…I am unable to give evidence to the contrary."
"Yeah, me too."
"Yeah, I got nothin'. Looks like you win, Dean."
"Well, hallelujah, I can die happy now. Seriously, why do you guys even have this game?"
"………"
"Oh, would you look at that, the snow's stopping!"
"Thank God."
"Dost mine ears deceive me? Did Dean Winchester actually just profess gratitude to a higher being?"
"GAH!"
"Interesting."
"Jeez, man, don't do that!"
"It's a figure of speech. What are you doing here, Cas?"
"I decided to stop in and see if you were riding out the storm all right, but now that I'm here I can feel your desperation for entertainment. Is there any chance of that desperation leading to a willingness to watch the Star Wars marathon that I believe begins in five minutes?"
"…Weirdest. Day. Ever. Hands down. That's all I have to say."
Author's Note: Okay, well, that was ridiculous. And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.