Disclaimer: Umm... sure, why not? -- I've never been sued before.
A/N: Off hiatus! Whoot! Ok, you know you're happy. Sorry it took me so long to start these suckers back up, but I was finishing school, and then went back home, and then didn't have the internet in my room. Now, obviously I do! Yay! So I now have a backlog of about ten or so one shots, so I'm set up for a while. This first one I'm posting is the stupidest one shot in the world. Haha, but it's great. Ok, so there is basically no plot line-- well, there is, but it's so dumb. The whole point of this one shot is that every single episode from both season one and two are stuck into it. So it'll mainly just be fun to read to try and see if you can find all of the episode titles. A small warning though-- the humour in this thing is rediculous-- I was just having fun trying to stick the titles in, so kindda lost track of the plot and any type of sense. Haha-- enjoy!
Title: The Search of the Titles
Genre: Humour... horrible, horrible humour.
Summary: Uhh... this thing has a summary? Ok... so it's basically about some killer clowns that are killing kids... I think.
The Search of the Titles
"No way dude," Dean shook his head furiously, "No!"
Sam, on the other hand, laughed, "Come on Dean, everybody loves a clown."
"Except you!" Dean shot back.
"Ok, everyone but me," Sam rolled his eyes, "And it's not like I'm asking you to kiss the thing."
"No, just hug it," Dean frowned, "Sammy, they're going to send me to an asylum if I randomly walk around a kids fun park hugging every single fricken thing dressed as a clown."
"It's either that, or shoot every single thing dressed as a clown," Sam paused, "Which really wouldn't be that bad…"
"Sam…" Dean spoke flatly, "Be serious."
Sam shot out a grin, "I am."
"Alright," Dean struggled to get things back on track, "these… things… dress up as clowns and kill people. This sounds familiar."
"Naw, totally different," Sam waved his hand, "When we hunted that other thing, it was at a circus. This is a 'Children's Play Park'."
"God I hate you," Dean rubbed his hand over his face, "So anyways, they have a heart in their back that you can feel when you hug them, and we have to, what-- kill the bitches by ripping it out?"
"Kind of," Sam looked down at the laptop in front of him, "Basically these things, as you so eloquently called them, are already dead. They feed off of children for the youthfulness, and in order to get rid of them, they have to be shot in the back… where the heart is."
"Of course they do," Dean nodded, "What else? I mean-- let's make a show out of it… call all the little kiddies in, and shoot a clown in front of them."
Sam forced a straight face, "We could… say there's a gas leak or something. Get everyone to go home."
"I have a better idea," Dean's eyes sparkled, "Lets get a huge scarecrow and stick it in the middle of the place. Watch them all run."
"Alright Dean, I get it-- this is going to be a little bit of a problem," Sam closed the computer, "But… it's a clown. Most kids…" Sam internally shivered, "Like to play with them."
"Yeah, well, children shouldn't play with dead things," Dean muttered.
"They're usually not dead."
"It's what is, and what should never be. Odds are against us on that one Sammy," Dean pointed out, "We've ran across two of these things, and both of them have been in the 'dead and evil' category. I'm starting to understand why you're so freaked out about them."
Sam looked at Dean a moment and spoke slowly, "Flying."
"Smart ass," Dean spoke in the same emphasized tone, "And besides which, a pilot can be possessed, remember?"
"So what are we going to do?" Sam finally asked after a moment of silence.
"I don't know," Dean thought about it, and took a deep breath, "I bet a Wendigo is looking pretty good right about now huh?"
"Yeah, but you're out of M&Ms, so we'd be screwed," Sam grinned, "Come on-- lets just head down to the place. We'll figure it out from there."
The sun shone bright outside the hotel that they were staying in which made the black Impala look all the more dirty.
"God Dean, what the hell did you do to your car?" Sam slowly rounded the front of it, "It looks like you hit every roadkill there was on the highway."
"I was saving them," Dean grinned, "Teaching the rest of the animals not to run into the road."
"Dean, you're the cause of the need for salvation in the animal kingdom," Sam kicked at a chunk of dirt sticking out the end of the bumper.
"Hey at least a furry little rabbit's blood is better than a dead man's blood," Dean shrugged and got in the car, "Come on Sammy, before you're next."
Sam frowned at Dean's lack of compassion and got in the car with a defiant huff. Dean took a glance at his brother has he pulled out onto the road, 'Folsom Prison Blues' playing dimly on the radio as he headed towards where the killer clowns awaited. Silence enveloped the car, and Dean quickly realized Sam wasn't going to be the one to start a conversation.
"Look Sammy," Dean smirked, "There's dead bugs on the windshield… still think I'm something wicked?"
"Among other things," Sam quipped before yelling out, "Dean! Pay attention."
Dean glanced in the mirror at the dog which narrowly missed the car, "Oh, come on Sam-- have some faith in me."
Sam wordlessly glanced up at a road sign that read 'Route 666'.
"Ok, that's just mean," Dean frowned
Five minutes later, the less than subtle car pulled into a busy parking lot outside a large stadium-like arena. A tent nearly half the size of the building sat beside it, and there seemed to be hundreds of children and reluctant parents wandering about the grounds.
"Where the hell did all the kids come from?" Dean groaned getting out of the car and heading towards the trunk.
"You see Dean, when a Mommy and a Daddy love each other--" Sam started, following his brother's movement to the back.
"Two seconds Sammy," Dean pulled out a small silver-bulleted pistol out of the trunk, "and I'm going to shove this thing in a place your worst nightmare couldn't even imagine."
"Dean, I dream of people getting burned alive," Sam hissed out in a quiet whisper as he pulled out the other pistol.
Dean spared a look at him, "I know."
"You know, compared to you, sometimes, the Benders seemed kind of tame," Sam commented as Dean grabbed the EMF meter, and they headed down the sidewalk towards the large building and tent.
"What are you talking about?" Dean cried out, spinning to face his little brother, "I don't make people into my little playthings."
Sam smiled and clapped Dean on the shoulder affectionately. By the time the brother's made it to the entrance they'd already spotted three clowns.
"Great," Dean muttered, "If I go around hugging all these things people are going to think I'm even more gay than they already do."
A sound somewhere between a laugh and a gag came out of Sam's mouth, and he bit back a retort that Dean would have smacked him for. Instead the younger brother remained silent and looked around.
"All hell breaks loose part one… me shooting all the clowns," Dean muttered.
"All hell breaks loose part two is you going around hugging all the dead clowns," Sam tried not to laugh.
"Funny Sammy, but you're the one who's going to have to go to therapy for the next twenty years from this," Dean said.
Sam glared at Dean quickly before looking around some more.
"God, this place is like a hell house," Sam whispered as a clown with bright red hair and an erratically animated mouth walked by.
"This is awesome," Dean glanced around, "Sam, there's got to be at least two dozen of these things around here. How the hell do we figure out which one it is?"
Sam had no answer as he stared at his childhood fear walk everywhere around him. The sun beat down hot, and through his dark, long sleeve shirt, Sam could feel sweat clinging to his skin.
"Excuse me," Sam turned his head to the voice beside him.
"Ahh!" a loud yelp of fear came out of Sam's mouth as he jumped and turned away.
Jagged breaths came out of Sam's mouth as he stared at the clown which had just spoken. It's hair was an almost neon color, sticking out in every direction. White make-up covered it's entire face, with blue diamonds painted over his eyes and a large purple mouth that ran almost directly to the ears. A foam yellow nose topped it off, and Sam forced himself to swallow and take another stumbling step backwards.
"Sorry," Dean's voice squeaked out to the confused clown, "He--" Dean cleared his throat as he placed his hand as inconspicuously as possible over his mouth to stop the laughter from escaping, "He… has problems…"
The clown gave Dean a sympathetic smile before walking off, leaving the older brother free to burst out laughing.
"Shut up," Sam breathed, anger laced in his voice.
"I don't think it was that guy," Dean choked out, "But I can go back and hug him if you want."
Sam was about to retort again when a loud scream echoed out from inside the tented area, and numerous people began to run out frantically.
"I've got a wild guess as to where our guy is," Sam forced the situation serious as he checked the rim of his pants to be sure the gun was still in place.
The two brothers ran against the crowd of people, and Sam groaned when, again, he saw three clowns standing around a circle of people; a little girl laying down in the center.
Dean sighed, "The usual suspects."
"Which one?" Sam hissed out as people began to call out for someone to call an ambulance.
"I'm guessing the one that sent the girl to the ground," Dean frowned.
"No kidding," Sam rolled his eyes, looking, regrettably, at the clowns.
It was the third one that caught his attention.
"Dean," Sam elbowed his brother, "Dean… check out the one with the pink suit."
Dean looked over, and saw, just as the other two, the clown staring down apprehensively at the girl, "Yeah, so?"
"Look at his shadow," Sam kept his voice low.
Dean looked, "There is none."
"Exactly," Sam pointed at the other two clowns who's bodies shot out long, exaggerated shadows across the grass.
"Great," Dean swallowed, "Well I sure as hell am not going to cap him one here. We gotta clear it out."
"Alright," Sam nodded and looked at the crowd of people, "Alright, can I get through please? I know first aid."
The crowd parted, and Sam walked over to the little girl who only looked to be around ten. A boy who seemed to be the same age was crouched down next to her.
"Hey," Sam forced his best calming voice, "Mind if I take a look at her?"
"No," the boy took the girls hand in his, "No-- Simon said to stay here, and not to leave her side. He said that he was going to get help."
"Do you always listen to what Simon says?" Dean questioned.
The boy nodded his head indignantly, "Yes. Simon is always right."
"See Sam, he knows how to play the game," Dean shot a sideways grin at his brother.
"Dean!" Sam cried out, "Come on. We need to help her, and clear the people away from here."
"She already got sick today," the boy had tears coming down his face, "she got sick outside and then-- something got her. And now…" a hiccoughed sob came from the boys mouth, "and now she's all bloody… Mary… she's all bloody from the bad thing."
"Gezz Sam, and you thought you were born under a bad sign," Dean spoke under his breath.
"I am with you as a brother," Sam shot back before turning his attention back to the boy, "Alright, listen. Mary is going to be just fine. Dean here-- my brother-- will help bring her out in the light and get a better look."
A sudden serious look came to Dean's face, "Sammy no. I'm not leaving you in here."
"I'll be fine Dean," Sam insisted, and then saw the reluctant look on the boys face, "Don't worry, Dean's not a hookman, and doesn't bite hard. Everything will be ok."
The boy frowned as Dean ushered away the other people, "Hookman?"
Sam waved his hand, "Nothing-- just a bunch of tall tales. Ask Simon, I'm sure he'll tell you about them."
By that time Dean returned, and gave a look at Sam, "Be careful. I'll be back."
Sam nodded and turned around to see only the shadow-less clown standing there, a mocking smile on his make-up face.
"Have you heard of the legend Croatoan?" the clown asked calmly.
Sam paused, "Have you heard of make-up remover?"
"The settlers that disappeared."
"I wouldn't let Dean hear about this," Sam breathed deep, trying to digest the thing in front of him as a demon rather than a clown, "he gets pretty pissed when that whole episode is brought up."
"It was us, you know," the clown continued, "We're the reasons those settlers never made it to their destiny. We became their destiny."
Somehow the image of a bunch of brightly coloured clowns going after settlers in 1590 lessened the threat of the thing standing in front of him, and taking a glance around, Sam took out his gun. The clown spotted the gun and eyed his surroundings apprehensively.
"There's no exit buddy," Sam pointed the gun at the things head, "This ends here."
"If you stop me Sam Winchester, more will come," the clown's voice had dropped dramatically, "You can't stop this with me."
"Stopping you," a sly smile that usually only cursed the elder brother's lips came across Sam as he spoke, "This is only the beginning of the devil's trap. Trust me on that one."
"Not even the houses of the holy can stop us," the clown took a step closer to Sam, "We're everywhere-- it doesn't stop with me. It doesn't stop with saving that girl."
"It stops when you shut the hell up," Dean suddenly spoke up from behind the clown, pointing his gun to where the thing's heart was, "seriously man-- if you guys did less talking you'd kill a bunch more people."
"God, I forgot about you," the clown groaned, "I've been told about you Dean-- always there… always coming back like some phantom traveller bent on being everywhere all the time."
"Night shifter," Dean grinned, "It sounds cooler."
Without skipping a beat Dean pulled the trigger to the silver pistol, and the colourful clown dropped to the ground face first. A thick pool of green blood oozed down the thing's back, and began to gather on the grass.
"Think some bloodlust vampire would want that?" Dean mused watching the revolting liquid flow out.
"I don't know, why don't you go find one and ask," Sam frowned.
"I don't know--" Dean shook his head as he joined his brother in the slow walk out of the tent, "But if I'm ever in my time of dying and start talking about stupid things like that, punch me," Dean shot one last look at the green blooded clown, "Please."
"How about when you're alive?" Sam questioned, retracing their steps back down the sidewalk; Sam intentionally avoiding the sight of any other clowns in the area.
"How about you find yourself dead in the water," Dean shot back, "Shouldn't be too hard-- just look up while you're taking a shower."
By that time the Winchester's found themselves standing outside the Impala, Dean by the drivers side door, and Sam by the passenger side.
"You know one of these times, one of us is going to get creamed when we have one of our 'over-the-car' chats," Sam noted, watching as a car speed by mere inches from Dean.
"Well if it's me, you gotta go live the life," Dean spoke sincerely, "You deserve it."
Sam smiled back just as serenely, "I am living the life Dean. I'm on a road trip with my big brother. Beating the crossroad blues as we help people and--" Sam glanced back towards the tent, "… and killing clowns. It can't get much better."
"Sure it can Sammy," Dean shook his head, "Hollywood Babylon dude!-- Go to LA and see if you can out-slut Paris Hilton."
Sam laughed and opened up the door, "Lets go Dean."
Dean smiled, got into the car, started it up, and pulled out onto the road. They passed three cops and one ambulance on the way, but soon the hectic town made way to a peaceful country road.
"You ok?" Dean looked at his silent brother.
"Yeah," Sam sighed, "We did pretty good."
"I'd say so," Dean nodded, "But you look like we missed something."
"We did," Sam looked deep in thought.
Dean drove for nearly thirty seconds before shaking his head, "Ok, I can't think of it. I mean, dude-- we did everything."
"Except one," Sam smiled.
Dean looked at Sam expectantly, "Alright man, I'm not playing twenty questions for a one-word answer."
Sam laughed, "We didn't get provenance."
Dean scrunched up his face as he drove, "Providence?"
The End.