Supernatural Fic - Chicken in the Breadpan

I've got a ton of metas, serious stories, and projects I'm working on for Supernatural. Yet, somehow, this is what I produce: crackfic. Off-the-wall, only-took-an-hour, what-the-hell-were-you-thinking crackfic. I have a sickness. Someone please help me. Oh, um, watch your brain when you read this. I make no promises that it won't scar you.

Title: Chicken in the Breadpan 
Rating: PG for language
Category: Humor, mild crackfic
Pairing: Gen
Word Count: 800
Status: Complete 
Spoilers: None
Summary: Sam and Dean were expecting to find a demon on this hunt. They were expecting to capture it and exorcise it. They just weren't expecting it to be so...lame. Because honestly, this was just pathetic.

 

( Sam dutifully propped open the worn book and began the exorcism chant. )

-

OMGYAY.

1) I am a huge fan of Jeffrey Dean Morgan. The man is handsome. I didn't even know who he was until Supernatural, but now he's one of my favorite actors. Hell, I adore Dead and Breakfast just because he's in it! (Well, and dancing zombies crack me way up.) He's great. And his voice...guh. Awesome, awesome voice.

Also? A while ago, TV Guide Channel did a “50 Sexiest Men of Television” special. Jensen clocked in at #26; Jared finished at #37. Jeffrey Dean Morgan? #7, bitches! Oh-oh-oh! Pyrebi isn’t the only one who thinks the man is damn fine! *does an e-dance that would almost certainly sprain something if she tried it in real life* Yes! I love having my taste in men validated. 

And to round up this little squee bit, here is my favorite pic of the man.

( So...handsome... )

2) I am currently eating my way through Angel. You know, the Buffy spinoff. I'm halfway through the third season, and I ♥ Wesley. And yes, I know what he does later on and what happens to his up-til-now mostly sweet and goofy character. Still, I love him. Maybe it's just my residual Giles-love, though? Being transferred to a younger, prettier, admittedly somewhat prissier version? I dunno. La-la-la, in my world Wes is perfect, la-la-la.

And points 1 and 2 bring us to POINT 3, YAY!

3) I just finished watching Angel 3.12 "Provider." Angel goes to visit a client, and they show Mr. Billowy Coat King of Pain walking into a room with the prospective client's voice layering over the scene. I says to myself, "Self--that is one hawt voice. I think I recognize that voice." Then the camera switches angles, zooms in, and I shriek in glee. IT'S JDM! AND HE PUNCHES SOMEBODY OUT! AND HIS NAME IS SAM AND HE THANKS ANGEL FOR HIS HELP AND HIS CHARACTER SEEMS TO HAVE HOMOEROTIC FEELINGS FOR HIS DEAD "FRIEND" (WHICH I COULD'VE DONE WITHOUT BUT OH WELL)! *pants* Why did I not know JDM guest-starred on Angel? Still, it made for an awesome surprise. He was clean-shaven (which is too bad, because he is one of the very few men I prefer scruffy or just plain bearded) and had unfortunate hair, but I loved it anyway. And he was funny! I laughed! And-and-and...it really made my night. Honest.

4) There are ants invading my dorm again. And not the tiny piss-ants, either. These suckers are like, three-quarters of an inch long and jet black. I've seen two of them so far. Brrrr. Time to get out the poison. This is another reason I hate warm weather: the bugs come out. And the worst part? Now that I've seen them, I've got that creepy-crawly itching feeling all over.

5) I posted new crackfic. Someone should take away my keyboard. Or not allow me to write after 2am.

6) antekaposted a discussion on the pronunciation of "Impala" today, making me reminisce about how my father always bitches at me and my sister for saying "Im-pah-lah," leading to conversations like this in the market:

EV: Dad, will you help us look for a model Impala?
Dad: Im-pal-uh.
Me: Im-pah-lah.
Dad: It's IM-PAL-UH.
EV: We're just saying it the way the Winchesters taught us.
Dad: Well, they've been teaching you wrong. Damn Californian actors.
Me and EV: OMG DAD THEY'RE BOTH FROM TEXAS!!!
Dad: ... ... ...So, what exactly are you looking for?
Me: '67 Chevy Impala, black, four-door, hard-top.
Dad: *looking around* Uh-huh. *under breath* Im-pal-uh.