SPN Fanfic: Where Monsters Fear to Roam
Title: Where Monsters Fear to Roam
Characters: Sully, Dean, Randall, Sam, Fungus, OCmonster
Rating: GEN, PG
Word Count: 780 words
Disclaimer: Kripke owns the boys, and Disney/Pixar owns the monsters. Don't sue me please, I'm arguably insane.
Warnings: Crossover. AU. No spoilers for anything. CRACK.
Summary: There are some closets that scare the monsters.
A/N: I've only seen Monsters Inc. one and a half times, so I apologize for any errors in that 'verse's canon. There are bound to be other Supernatural/Monsters Inc. crossovers out there. I haven't seen any though, so here's some random pointless crack.
TRANSLATION AVAILABLE: Chinese, Translated by krlaa
-
Where Monsters Fear to Roam
by CaffieneKitty
-
"James P. Sullivan?"
Sully swallowed. "Uh. Yessir."
"First door, eh?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, no sense waiting," the orange-helmeted supervisor whapped a tentacle against the door-frame. "Nice easy one for your first one. Sammy Winchester. He's three. Should be good for some top quality screams. You ready?"
Sully ruffled a hand over his head and exhaled. "Yeah." He reached for the knob.
-
Are kid's closets usually this empty? Sully thought as he opened the door. It was probably a good thing; less chance of toxic exposure to a child's things. He'd seen the Child Detection Agency's warning programs.
The room outside the closet was tiny, barely big enough for the two small beds. One was messed up, but empty. In the other one, there was the lump of a kid.
An actual, toxic, kid. Not a practice model. The kid snuffled in his sleep.
Sully swallowed again started to step towards the bed. That's when everything went black.
When Sully came to, he was crammed back into the closet, tied up with an extension cord. There was a shifting weight on his chest and a bright light shone in his face. A child was sitting on him! Sully groaned. The CDA was gonna disinfect places he didn't know he had.
"My daddy's gonna kill you," the kid's voice whispered behind the light.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sully whispered in panic. Screaming on his first day on the job would not look good on his resume. He was supposed to make the kid scream, not the other way around.
"You are so lucky dad's out hunting some other monsters or you'd be a flaming shish-kebob right now."
Sully struggled and squeaked, "I'm not-! I just scare kids I don't-!"
"You were going after Sammy." The flashlight got closer to his eyes and Sully winced away. "Weren't you?"
"I- I was just-"
"Shh!" A child's hand pinched his lips together. Sully shuddered. "Sammy's not 'llowed to know monsters are real."
"Mrf."
"What you're gonna do, you big blue furry freak, is you're gonna leave. Now. You're gonna go back to wherever you came from and you're gonna tell all your closet monster buddies that Sammy Winchester is off limits, you hear me?"
Sully nodded frantically.
"No, no, no," the child's voice piped. "You say, 'Yes, I understand, Mr. Dean Winchester, sir!' But do it quiet."
"Yrmf M mbrftnd, Mftr Dn Wnchftr, fr."
"An' we move around a lot, so make sure you don't find us again. 'Cause if I ever see you or any of your friends, ever, I'll skin you alive myself."
Sully's eyes widened and his voice went up an octave. "Yrmf! M mbrftnd! Mftr Dn Wnchftr, fr!"
"Okay then." The weight lifted off Sully's chest, but the light stayed in his eyes. "I'm gonna go out and shut the closet door now. And when I open it again, you better be gone or you'll wish you had been."
Sully whimpered.
-
Sully scratched the bare skin left behind by the thorough cleaning of the CDA and tried to look like he had a shred of dignity left.
"So... Sullivan."
Sully watched over the edge of the giant plastic collar as his supervisor slithered back and forth in front of him. "Yes sir."
"Didn't go too well?"
"No sir."
"What happened?"
"The uh... child... was scare-proof."
The supervisor's secondary eyestalk rotated quizzically. "At three, Sullivan?"
"Yes sir. Aggressively scare-proof." Sully swallowed. "His, ah, older brother is apparently scarier than me sir."
"Ah, well. That explains it. I'll send the door for shredding."
"He, uh. They looked like they move around a lot. They, I mean he..." Sully scratched his bare skin nervously. "Can they be flagged, in the system somehow? Sammy Winchester and family, scare-proof, do not open door?"
The supervisor ran a tentacle down an eyestalk in contemplation. "I believe there's paperwork that can be filed. I'm sure Roz can help you with that."
"Oh good. It'd be, um. Hazardous, I think, for any other monsters that tried to scare them. I mean him. Sammy Winchester. Extremely hazardous."
-
Years later, a beat-up closet door swung out from the storeroom over the empty shop floor.
"Ah, here we are, good old stand-by, Amy Thompson." Randall leered. "Always good for a scream."
"Sir, uh," Fungus said, examining a clipboard. "There's a note here from the last Scarer that there were a lot of boxes in her room last time, she might have moved."
"Ah, well. A kid's a kid. I'm the best. I can get a scream out of anyone."
Randall turned invisible and opened the closet door.
"Hi," said a nine-year-old boy in a Batman t-shirt and sweatpants, "I'm Sam Winchester. I think you met my brother once?" At the empty space Randall knew he seemed to be, the boy leveled a .45 calibre pistol.
Randall squeaked, slammed the closet door, powered it down and called for a door-shredder, shaking.
"What's wrong, sir?" asked Fungus.
"Nothing!"
"Wasn't it Amy? And why are you plaid?"
As far as Randall was concerned, the shredder could not get there fast enough. "No. And shut up."
- - -
(that's all, like I said, nonsense.)
Characters: Sully, Dean, Randall, Sam, Fungus, OCmonster
Rating: GEN, PG
Word Count: 780 words
Disclaimer: Kripke owns the boys, and Disney/Pixar owns the monsters. Don't sue me please, I'm arguably insane.
Warnings: Crossover. AU. No spoilers for anything. CRACK.
Summary: There are some closets that scare the monsters.
A/N: I've only seen Monsters Inc. one and a half times, so I apologize for any errors in that 'verse's canon. There are bound to be other Supernatural/Monsters Inc. crossovers out there. I haven't seen any though, so here's some random pointless crack.
TRANSLATION AVAILABLE: Chinese, Translated by krlaa
-
Where Monsters Fear to Roam
by CaffieneKitty
-
"James P. Sullivan?"
Sully swallowed. "Uh. Yessir."
"First door, eh?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, no sense waiting," the orange-helmeted supervisor whapped a tentacle against the door-frame. "Nice easy one for your first one. Sammy Winchester. He's three. Should be good for some top quality screams. You ready?"
Sully ruffled a hand over his head and exhaled. "Yeah." He reached for the knob.
-
Are kid's closets usually this empty? Sully thought as he opened the door. It was probably a good thing; less chance of toxic exposure to a child's things. He'd seen the Child Detection Agency's warning programs.
The room outside the closet was tiny, barely big enough for the two small beds. One was messed up, but empty. In the other one, there was the lump of a kid.
An actual, toxic, kid. Not a practice model. The kid snuffled in his sleep.
Sully swallowed again started to step towards the bed. That's when everything went black.
When Sully came to, he was crammed back into the closet, tied up with an extension cord. There was a shifting weight on his chest and a bright light shone in his face. A child was sitting on him! Sully groaned. The CDA was gonna disinfect places he didn't know he had.
"My daddy's gonna kill you," the kid's voice whispered behind the light.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sully whispered in panic. Screaming on his first day on the job would not look good on his resume. He was supposed to make the kid scream, not the other way around.
"You are so lucky dad's out hunting some other monsters or you'd be a flaming shish-kebob right now."
Sully struggled and squeaked, "I'm not-! I just scare kids I don't-!"
"You were going after Sammy." The flashlight got closer to his eyes and Sully winced away. "Weren't you?"
"I- I was just-"
"Shh!" A child's hand pinched his lips together. Sully shuddered. "Sammy's not 'llowed to know monsters are real."
"Mrf."
"What you're gonna do, you big blue furry freak, is you're gonna leave. Now. You're gonna go back to wherever you came from and you're gonna tell all your closet monster buddies that Sammy Winchester is off limits, you hear me?"
Sully nodded frantically.
"No, no, no," the child's voice piped. "You say, 'Yes, I understand, Mr. Dean Winchester, sir!' But do it quiet."
"Yrmf M mbrftnd, Mftr Dn Wnchftr, fr."
"An' we move around a lot, so make sure you don't find us again. 'Cause if I ever see you or any of your friends, ever, I'll skin you alive myself."
Sully's eyes widened and his voice went up an octave. "Yrmf! M mbrftnd! Mftr Dn Wnchftr, fr!"
"Okay then." The weight lifted off Sully's chest, but the light stayed in his eyes. "I'm gonna go out and shut the closet door now. And when I open it again, you better be gone or you'll wish you had been."
Sully whimpered.
-
Sully scratched the bare skin left behind by the thorough cleaning of the CDA and tried to look like he had a shred of dignity left.
"So... Sullivan."
Sully watched over the edge of the giant plastic collar as his supervisor slithered back and forth in front of him. "Yes sir."
"Didn't go too well?"
"No sir."
"What happened?"
"The uh... child... was scare-proof."
The supervisor's secondary eyestalk rotated quizzically. "At three, Sullivan?"
"Yes sir. Aggressively scare-proof." Sully swallowed. "His, ah, older brother is apparently scarier than me sir."
"Ah, well. That explains it. I'll send the door for shredding."
"He, uh. They looked like they move around a lot. They, I mean he..." Sully scratched his bare skin nervously. "Can they be flagged, in the system somehow? Sammy Winchester and family, scare-proof, do not open door?"
The supervisor ran a tentacle down an eyestalk in contemplation. "I believe there's paperwork that can be filed. I'm sure Roz can help you with that."
"Oh good. It'd be, um. Hazardous, I think, for any other monsters that tried to scare them. I mean him. Sammy Winchester. Extremely hazardous."
-
Years later, a beat-up closet door swung out from the storeroom over the empty shop floor.
"Ah, here we are, good old stand-by, Amy Thompson." Randall leered. "Always good for a scream."
"Sir, uh," Fungus said, examining a clipboard. "There's a note here from the last Scarer that there were a lot of boxes in her room last time, she might have moved."
"Ah, well. A kid's a kid. I'm the best. I can get a scream out of anyone."
Randall turned invisible and opened the closet door.
"Hi," said a nine-year-old boy in a Batman t-shirt and sweatpants, "I'm Sam Winchester. I think you met my brother once?" At the empty space Randall knew he seemed to be, the boy leveled a .45 calibre pistol.
Randall squeaked, slammed the closet door, powered it down and called for a door-shredder, shaking.
"What's wrong, sir?" asked Fungus.
"Nothing!"
"Wasn't it Amy? And why are you plaid?"
As far as Randall was concerned, the shredder could not get there fast enough. "No. And shut up."
- - -
(that's all, like I said, nonsense.)