who-do-voodoo
Supernatural
Dean, gen
[You remind me of the babe;
What babe?
the babe with the power;
What power?
power of voodoo;
Who do?
you do;
Do what?
remind me of the babe]
The thing is, people don't just vanish. That whole "hocus pocus now you're gone" crap never amazed me.
Dean's here at this table, sitting in the world's most uncomfortable chair. Staring down at an off-white table cloth and he doesn't want to know how it got to be that colour or what it might be covering besides scratched wood; there's an unlit candle and a bowl of roasted peanuts side by side almost directly in the centre. Sam should be sitting across from him. Should be making fun of Dean every time he reaches for yet another peanut
"Dude, you've eaten like, two dozen already. Save some for the squirrels, huh?"
but he isn't, won't be anytime soon because he's not just outside getting a soda or in the motel's tiny washroom finishing up a quick shower because that asshole's blood had sprayed all over him when its head was blown off the rest of its body.
That damned magician had actually made him disappear.
Sammy had been standing up on stage, a grin on his face as he watched Dean trying not to laugh because dude, no way some magician's tricks were actually working, right?
Dean had blinked. It was only a second but that was all it took for the magician to utter some voodoo crap and then Sam was just gone. "Dude, he just like, vanished, in this cloud of purplish-green smoke" the guy next to Dean had explained when Dean turned to him, panicked, shouting, "What the hell just happened? Where'd he go?"
Dean had turned and glared at the magician up on stage, who was bowing as the audience clapped and cheered but Dean wasn't clapping or cheering, he was pissed off, muttering: "Goddamned hocus pocus crap does not amaze me, and if that fugly voodoo creep doesn't make Sammy reappear, I'm gonna rip his freaking head off."
Dean, gen
[You remind me of the babe;
What babe?
the babe with the power;
What power?
power of voodoo;
Who do?
you do;
Do what?
remind me of the babe]
The thing is, people don't just vanish. That whole "hocus pocus now you're gone" crap never amazed me.
Dean's here at this table, sitting in the world's most uncomfortable chair. Staring down at an off-white table cloth and he doesn't want to know how it got to be that colour or what it might be covering besides scratched wood; there's an unlit candle and a bowl of roasted peanuts side by side almost directly in the centre. Sam should be sitting across from him. Should be making fun of Dean every time he reaches for yet another peanut
"Dude, you've eaten like, two dozen already. Save some for the squirrels, huh?"
but he isn't, won't be anytime soon because he's not just outside getting a soda or in the motel's tiny washroom finishing up a quick shower because that asshole's blood had sprayed all over him when its head was blown off the rest of its body.
That damned magician had actually made him disappear.
Sammy had been standing up on stage, a grin on his face as he watched Dean trying not to laugh because dude, no way some magician's tricks were actually working, right?
Dean had blinked. It was only a second but that was all it took for the magician to utter some voodoo crap and then Sam was just gone. "Dude, he just like, vanished, in this cloud of purplish-green smoke" the guy next to Dean had explained when Dean turned to him, panicked, shouting, "What the hell just happened? Where'd he go?"
Dean had turned and glared at the magician up on stage, who was bowing as the audience clapped and cheered but Dean wasn't clapping or cheering, he was pissed off, muttering: "Goddamned hocus pocus crap does not amaze me, and if that fugly voodoo creep doesn't make Sammy reappear, I'm gonna rip his freaking head off."