[video] backdated to daytime >_>
[The feed clicks on to a blurry-cam view of our intrepid hero, that bearded son of Messrs. Morgan and Cuervo. Chuck couldn’t look less impressed if right now if he was getting paid for it. There was some I-knew-I-should’ve-stayed-home-today in there with a thin alcohol glaze. This shit, his eyes seem to say. This shit, they implore as he tugs his beard silently. The fuck is it?]
Okay... this definitely isn’t where I parked my car.
Uh. [Fidget fidget fidget. Running a hand through his messy hair, some stress evident.] Why do I feel like I just fell into a crappy video game? I mean, it can’t be anything recent since there are more colors here than brown and gray, but- Seriously. This isn’t funny.
It’s angels, right? They put me here? Michael or Raphael, huh. Keeping me away from- [He blanches suddenly.] No, wait. No! It’s ZACHARIAH. It’s him! Oh god, it’s him! He finally snapped, didn’t he? He knows I helped the Winchesters! [REACHING FOR THAT HANDLE OF VODKA, YEP. He can’t cope with his life right now.] Fuck, man.
Okay... this definitely isn’t where I parked my car.
Uh. [Fidget fidget fidget. Running a hand through his messy hair, some stress evident.] Why do I feel like I just fell into a crappy video game? I mean, it can’t be anything recent since there are more colors here than brown and gray, but- Seriously. This isn’t funny.
It’s angels, right? They put me here? Michael or Raphael, huh. Keeping me away from- [He blanches suddenly.] No, wait. No! It’s ZACHARIAH. It’s him! Oh god, it’s him! He finally snapped, didn’t he? He knows I helped the Winchesters! [REACHING FOR THAT HANDLE OF VODKA, YEP. He can’t cope with his life right now.] Fuck, man.