OMG OMG OMG: Part One
Recipient: theymp
Author: cuddyclothes
Artist: angelus2hot
Title: OMG OMG OMg
Summary: Dean drags Sam to a Dr. Sexy convention
Characters: Dean, Sam, many OCs
Rating: PG for language
Wordcount: 2,218
Please GIVE A LOT OF LOVE TO angelus2hot for her phenomenal artwork! More to come!
This is for the spn_bigpretzel Spring Fling Gift Exchange!
Dean hadn’t slept all night in his excitement. As soon as they arrived in Weehawken, New Jersey, he had been in one big annoying transport of delight.
“Look at this hotel!” he exclaimed, dropping his duffel on the queen-sized bed on the right side of the room. Dean always claimed the bed nearest the exit. The Weehawken Hyatt-Regency was more impressive than their usual skeevy motels. Their room was large, clean, with a big-screen tv and little paper-wrapped soaps in the marble bathroom. Sam sat on the other bed, trying to ignore the comfort of the pillow-top mattress. He had long decided he was not going to enjoy this weekend. They’d maxed out a stolen credit card to pay for this stupid trip. Two Golden Passes for Creation Entertainment’s Salute To Dr. Sexy Convention, meet and greet, karaoke and photo ops with Dr. Sexy.
"Dean, leave the minibar alone, we don't have any more money."
"That's what you think!" Dean straightened up, a Snickers bar in one hand and a tiny bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. “I created two more credit cards and cashed some bad checks. I’m gonna need MONEY this weekend!”
“Okay,” Sam said with a sigh. “I’ll hang out here, do some research, maybe use the pool-“
“Nuh-uh! I bought passes for BOTH of us! You’re coming with me, Sammy!”
OMG OMG
The hotel lobby was so full of people it looked like it could burst. Mostly women of all ages and sizes, although there were a few men. Many of them wore doctor’s coats, and a bunch here and there wore bloody head bandages. One guy in a heavy tartan sweater had one arm. The din was incredible. Sam wished he had noise-cancelling headphones. And why were so many of the people in white coats wearing long stringy wigs?
Another one-armed guy in a heavy tartan sweater walked up to Sam. "Where's your hospital coat, lad?" he said in a heavy Scottish accent. "If you're gonna do the height and the hair, you gotta be doin' the coat!"
"What?"
"Don't mind him, Robert, he's a newb! Great costume!"
"You know his name?" Sam asked as they walked away.
"Nah, he's LARP'ing Robert! Robert is the one-armed Scottish janitor who harbors a secret love for Dr. Wang. He lost his arm in a centrifuge accident."
Dean loved it. He even got excited when they registered (as Sam and Dean Portland) and the security people put pink wristbands on them.
“I can’t believe we’re really here!” He stared up in awe at the huge banner:
WELCOME TO CREATION ENTERTAINMENT’S
SALUTE TO DR. SEXY, M.D.
WEEHAWKEN, NEW JERSEY
Dean insisted on dragging Sam to the karaoke sign-up. ‘Waddya wanna sing, Sam?”
“I’m not singing, Dean.”
“Ha-ha, another spot for me!”
“Be careful or you’ll stroke out before the convention starts.”
“Not me, Sammy! I’m keeping it together until my photo op with Dr. Sexy!” Dean flipped through the sheets and chose two songs. He wouldn’t let Sam see what they were.
Tall pillars ringing the lobby had huge photos of the actors on them. Dean pointed each one out.
“That’s Dr. Ellen Piccolo - that’s Johnny Drake-he’s a ghost-that’s Dr. Wang-“ Dean’s voice shot up an octave “and that’s Dr. Sexy!!”
“His real name is Joaquin Amarando?”
Dean stared blissfully at the picture. “Joaquin would have played Captain America, but he had the Dr. Sexy commitment, so he couldn’t.”
“Yeah, right,” Sam scoffed. “He gave up a huge movie to make a tv show.”
“It’s his passion! He’ll do the show as long as there are good stories to tell! They've only done sixteen seasons. Do you know how many things can go wrong with the human body? Besides turning into monsters?”
Sam endured the vendor’s room, where every possible piece of merchandise that could be slapped with a Dr. Sexy logo was. Including cup-holders, Pez dispensers, and toilet seats.
Most of the fans were women, cooing and stroking Dr. Sexy t-shirts. Dean snatched up a Dr. Sexy lanyard, a Dr. Sexy coffee table book, “The Story Of Sexy”; and a replica pair of Dr. Sexy cowboy boots.
“You don’t even know if they’re your size!”
“Who cares?” Dean examined a Dr. Sexy phone case, ignoring the fact he never used one phone for more than a month. “This is the best!” He scooped up the large red ball Dr. Sexy kept on his desk, rolling it back and forth when he was pondering a difficult case or an equally difficult love affair.
“Cast panel starting in fifteen minutes” came over the loudspeaker.
“DAMMIT!” Dean yelled, dropping the stuff in a heap on a table of fan calendars. “COME ON!”
The two man raced through the lobby to where a line had already formed to get into the main ballroom. A huge security guard kept them from cutting the line. So they waited, Dean bouncing on his heels, complaining, “we won’t get good seats!”
Rolling waves of fans went into the ballroom, squealing, laughing, and yelling “I CAN’T EVEN!” Dean found two seats on the aisle in a row near the back, cursing under his breath.
“Won’t see them from here. I should’ve punched that security guy in the throat.”
“Relax. Look at those.” Sam pointed at the huge screens on either side of the stage. Onstage was a long table with names at each seat. They didn’t mean anything to Sam. He’d left his laptop back in their hotel room. If only he had it now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean slip a mini-bottle of whiskey out of his jacket and drain it in a gulp.
There was a wave of applause. A nerdy girl in cats-eye-glasses took the podium.
“Hi, Sexies!” she yelled. “This is so great! So many of the Sexy Family are here today! We’ve got a great panel to start things off!”
To cheers, Nerdy Girl called out the executive producer, the director, the writer, and the stars of “Dr. Sexy, MD”. Sam feared for his eardrums.
“And Dr. Sexy himself, JOAQUIN ARMARANDO!”
Sam clapped his hands over his ears. There’s blood coming out of my ears, I know it. Dean screamed his lungs out.
“JOAQUIN! YOU’RE THE MAN! YOU’RE THE MAN! DR. SEXY!”
“Dean, you are such a girl,” Sam muttered, but it was lost in the audience noise.
Joaquin Amarando smiled, waved, winked at some of the women in the front row. He was tall, handsome, with shoulder-length dark brown hair. He sat next to Kristin Filer, a tiny brunette who played the female lead, Dr. Ellen Piccolo.
“Okay, Family, let’s settle,” Nerdy Girl said. She turned to the executive producer, a chubby bespectacled guy with dyed black hair that had been gelled to stand straight up. “Let’s talk about this AMAZEBALLS past season of Dr. Sexy!”
To Sam, everything was just blah blah blah blah blah. Dean was being the most annoying fangirl in the universe. One of the actors, a blond guy who played an intern, was asked, “Back in Season One, when you left something in your car and went back for it, what did you leave in your car?”
Dean leaned over. “I hate this dude. He’s too pretty to be an intern. Looks like a damn fashion model.” He pointed toward Dr. Sexy. “Doesn’t he have the greatest hair in the universe? I’d sell my soul for hair like that. No, for real, I would!”
The actor stared at the fan. “Uh...I don’t remember that far back...that was fifteen years ago..."
“It was ‘My Wild Irish Rose,’ Season One, Episode Ten. Sean talks to Dr. Piccolo, then Dr. Wang comes in and Sean tells Dr. Piccolo he left something in his car.”
The actor laughed nervously. “I don’t know-maybe my keys-“
"This guy is still playing an intern after fifteen years?" Sam whispered to Dean, who glared at him.
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"
Sam shrugged. It felt like four hours passed before the panel was over. Sam could tell the actors were getting all of the medical terminology wrong. The raucous fans around him held up phones and tablets, snapping pictures and recording videos.
“I LOVE YOU JOAQUIN!” a woman next to Sam screamed. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
When they filed back out to the lobby, Dean was one happy camper. “That was...I can’t even...I’d flail but I’m too worn out.”
“Flail? Why would you flail?”
Dean gave his brother a condescending look. “You’re not one of the Sexy Family. You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. Dean, this is just weird.”
“Look, Mr. Buzzkill, I’m going back to the vendor room. Why don’t you go upstairs to the room and pretend there’s something more interesting than this show? Because there isn’t! We’ll meet back here for Kristin Filer’s panel, and if you’re late, I will punch you in the face!”
Sam couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
OMG OMG
Kristin Filer’s panel was held in a much smaller ballroom, with a large black cloth backdrop between two pillars, these also covered with large photos. On the way in to the ballroom, a girl screamed, “OMG, IT’S JOHNNY DRAKE!”
A medium-sized rugged man with a scraggy beard was passing. He wore sunglasses and an exhausted expression.
“Johnny Drake-you’re alive!” said another girl, and laughed like a hyena.
“Thanks. That joke never gets old.” Johnny Drake looked like he wanted to kill himself. He stalked off into the crowd, presumably to drink himself unconscious.
This time Dean forced his way to the front row, elbowing a protesting fan away from her seat. “I’m getting a good look at Kristin,” he leered to Sam. “She is a babe.”
“These aren’t our seats, Dean.”
“They are now.”
Sam shook his head, and slumped into the chair next to his brother. Maybe Kristin Filer would get the medical terminology right.
She didn’t.
Dean didn’t care.
Sam did. He managed to escape the rest of the panels, lest he stand up and yell, “Testacle swelling is not colitis! It’s orchitis, you freaks!”
OMG OMG
They ate a room service dinner. Dean ordered a burger with every possible side dish, beers from the mini bar, and pie ala mode. Sam ate a Cobb salad and reluctantly accepted a beer. He needed it, to listen to his brother wax rhapsodic about the actor panels.
“And Bud Tabbs-the guy who plays Johnny Drake-he was drunk off his ass and couldn’t stop giggling! He almost fell off the stage!”
Dean jumped up, a plate of creamed spinach clattering to the floor. “Oh, shit! We gotta get downstairs! It’s karaoke time!!”
OMG OMG
The ballroom was not only crowded, there were colored lights and an amateur fan band, Seattle Mercy Rockers, onstage. Sam was squeezed by the hot, sweaty crowd. His skin crawled; he hated crowds. Nerdy Girl was up there again. “ARE YOU READY TO PART-AY WITH THE SEXIES?” she yelled.
“WE’RE SEXIES!” the crowd yowled. A woman dressed in a bathing suit made from a hospital blanket winked at Sam.
“ARE YOU READY FOR SOME KARAOKE, SEXY-STYLE?”
Another yowl from the crowd. Sam realized Dean wasn’t next to him. He scanned for the room and saw his brother right at the lip of the stage, jumping up and down. “Pick me! Pick me!”
Nerdy Girl looked at the list, and gestured Dean to the stage. Dean licked his lips in embarrassment and happiness. “Dean Portland, what are you going to sing for us?”
“My favorite song from Dr. Sexy! You Belong To Me by Taylor Swift!”
Taylor Swift? Sam thought. The fuck? The band kicked in and Dean proceeded to murder the song. Sam’s brother was tone-deaf, but nobody cared. Except Nerdy Girl and the band.
“She wears high heels, I wear sneakers,
she’s the captain and I’m in the bleachers-“
When the song finished, Dean took a bow, grinning like he’d won American Idol.
“Up next,” Nerdy Girl announced, “Sam Portland!”
“Nah, he can’t sing worth a damn,” Dean said quickly. “I’m taking his place!”
Nerdy Girl gave him a look. “Okay,” she said slowly, her voice filled with dread. “What are you going to give us next?”
“Remember the scene where Ellen Piccolo is crying by the fire because she killed that guy, and Dr. Sexy comes in with his shirt off and they make out? Remember? There was this great song-I Will Always Love You! Whitney Houston.”
Nerdy Girl grimaced a smile and signaled the Seattle Mercy Rockers.
“AND I-UH-I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU-OO-OO, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU-OO-OO-“
Sam shoved his way through the crowd to the bar. He was going to need a lot of beer.
END PART ONE