The Unicorn Who Apologized For Stealing Hot Pockets
Title: The Unicorn Who Apologized For Stealing Hot Pockets
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Warnings: G
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, a unicorn
Word Count: 950
Disclaimer: I disclaim it!
Summary: Part two in Unicorn Verse started by maskedfangirl. There is a unicorn in the kitchen and something smells like cinnamon rolls!
Sam was asleep on Bobby’s couch when the smell of cinnamon rolls baking wafted into his nostrils, jarring him from sleep. He sat up on the couch and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Bobby’s making breakfast?” he wondered to himself.
He stood and walked to the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. There was the unicorn. He was standing in Bobby’s kitchen next to a pan of cinnamon rolls, which sat on the counter, sending up little twirls of steam.
“What are you doing in Bobby’s kitchen?”
“I’m making cinnamon rolls!” huffed the unicorn, his eyes wide and wild. Glitter sprang from his nose and snowed gently onto the tile.
“Okay, but why?”
“What? Do you have a problem with cinnamon rolls now?”
The unicorn’s pink tail twirled and thwacked against the fridge, leaving behind bits of sparkles and heart shaped flower petals.
“No, not really,” said Sam. “I mean, they’re awfully sugary and I don’t usually eat them, but-“
“You will eat my cinnamon rolls Sam Winchester,” whispered the unicorn, suddenly sounding much more menacing than angry.
“What’s’ll this ‘bout then?” mumbled Dean, stumbling into the kitchen. “Oh, hey! It’s the unicorn.”
“I made cinnamon rolls,” said the unicorn.
“How did you make cinnamon rolls?” asked Dean. “You’ve got no opposable thumbs.”
“I’M. A. UNICORN! For the last time!”
“Are you sure you aren’t just a horse with a horn on its head?”
“Dean,” Sam admonished. “Don’t taunt the unicorn.”
“But he ate my Hot Pockets!” Dean pouted. He sort of had a point, but clearly the unicorn didn’t care too much as he went on complaining.
“A horse with a horn on its head? Do you know how much crap I get from those jerks? I am so sick of horses with horns on their heads! They think their so great, but what did they ever do? I mean, have you ever tried to spin sunshine out of horse-with-a-horn-on-its-head mane? YOU CAN’T!”
“So... Naturally this seemed like the perfect location for you to come and make cinnamon rolls?” Sam inquired.
The unicorn closed its shockingly blue eyes, its unicorn shoulders slumping a little. “No. Unicorns don’t tend to make cinnamon rolls.”
“You don’t?” asked Dean.
“We’re UNICORNS! We live in MEADOWS! What do YOU THINK?”
“Ummm?”
“No. I... Well... My mom heard about the Hot Pockets. And your shampoo, Dean Winchester.”
“She did?”
“What about them?” Sam asked.
“She demanded I make an apology. She seems to think that unicorns need to uphold some sort of unicorn standards, as if there even is such a thing!” The unicorn’s tail thwacked angrily against Bobby’s fridge some more; this time a couple of lollipops cascaded out of its bright pink strands.
Dean smiled and his sleepy eyes widened. “You can make candy outta your tail?”
“I’M A UNICORN!” the unicorn shouted with enough fury to wake the dead. Or at least to wake Bobby.
“Can I... have some candy?” asked Dean.
“What am I going to do with it?” the unicorn rolled its eyes. “But don’t go ruining your appetite for cinnamon rolls. You will eat my apology, and my unicorn mother will be happy with it.”
“So... Since you have a mother, I guess there is more than one unicorn,” said Sam, looking clever.
“What have I been saying ALL ALONG? You guys are NOT worth my cinnamon rolls. I have said, ‘I’m a unicorn. Not the unicorn!”
“Hey now Mr. Unicorn!” started Dean. “If you wanted us to pay that much attention to your grammar or whatever, you shouldn’t keep showing up so early in the morning.”
The unicorn gaped at Dean, rainbows glittering off its tongue as though it was a prism. “Mr. Unicorn is my FATHER!”
Sam tried his best to suppress a giggle.
“Can I eat my apology yet?” wondered Dean.
“No. You need to let them cool,” said the unicorn.
“To hell with that!” said Dean. “Use some of your unicorn powers to cool them off if you’re so worried.”
The unicorn considered this, and turned to blow on the tray of cinnamon rolls as one might blow on a spoonful of scalding soup. Sam was shaking his head in mild disbelief at all of this. Dean was licking a multi-colored lollipop he had picked off the floor. And this was the scene that Bobby Singer walked into in his kitchen at eight in the morning.
“What do you boys think yer doin’, talking to a unicorn?”
“Hey now, Bobby Singer,” the unicorn started to explain. “I’m just making some apology cinnamon rolls. There is nothing wrong with that!”
“This is my kitchen, Mr. Unicorn,” Bobby pointed out.
The unicorn sighed heavily, and clomped one of its hooves on the tiled floor in exasperation.
“Mr. Unicorn is his father,” Dean explained, still working on his lollipop. “Can I have my apology rolls now, Unicorn Jr.?”
“Did you just call me ‘Unicorn Jr.’?”
“Well...”
“No. That’s not going to work at all. Take your damn apology and shove it where you want it. I’m done with you Winchesters and I’m done with your pointless questions. I’m a unicorn and I’ve got more important things to deal with! Just because I’m sparkly and made of happiness doesn’t mean I’m not busy!”
The unicorn strode purposefully out of the kitchen and toward the front door, which opened for him as though Bobby’s house were a big box store with automatic doors.
Dean had one of the cinnamon rolls in his hand. Well, he had half of one, the other half was already in his mouth. “Dude!” he said through his food, “you’ve gotta try these. The best ever.”
“’Course it is, ya idjit. It was made by a unicorn.”
END.
For now!
On to The Unicorn Who Made Sam Feel Deeply Uncomfortable!
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Warnings: G
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby, a unicorn
Word Count: 950
Disclaimer: I disclaim it!
Summary: Part two in Unicorn Verse started by maskedfangirl. There is a unicorn in the kitchen and something smells like cinnamon rolls!
Sam was asleep on Bobby’s couch when the smell of cinnamon rolls baking wafted into his nostrils, jarring him from sleep. He sat up on the couch and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Bobby’s making breakfast?” he wondered to himself.
He stood and walked to the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. There was the unicorn. He was standing in Bobby’s kitchen next to a pan of cinnamon rolls, which sat on the counter, sending up little twirls of steam.
“What are you doing in Bobby’s kitchen?”
“I’m making cinnamon rolls!” huffed the unicorn, his eyes wide and wild. Glitter sprang from his nose and snowed gently onto the tile.
“Okay, but why?”
“What? Do you have a problem with cinnamon rolls now?”
The unicorn’s pink tail twirled and thwacked against the fridge, leaving behind bits of sparkles and heart shaped flower petals.
“No, not really,” said Sam. “I mean, they’re awfully sugary and I don’t usually eat them, but-“
“You will eat my cinnamon rolls Sam Winchester,” whispered the unicorn, suddenly sounding much more menacing than angry.
“What’s’ll this ‘bout then?” mumbled Dean, stumbling into the kitchen. “Oh, hey! It’s the unicorn.”
“I made cinnamon rolls,” said the unicorn.
“How did you make cinnamon rolls?” asked Dean. “You’ve got no opposable thumbs.”
“I’M. A. UNICORN! For the last time!”
“Are you sure you aren’t just a horse with a horn on its head?”
“Dean,” Sam admonished. “Don’t taunt the unicorn.”
“But he ate my Hot Pockets!” Dean pouted. He sort of had a point, but clearly the unicorn didn’t care too much as he went on complaining.
“A horse with a horn on its head? Do you know how much crap I get from those jerks? I am so sick of horses with horns on their heads! They think their so great, but what did they ever do? I mean, have you ever tried to spin sunshine out of horse-with-a-horn-on-its-head mane? YOU CAN’T!”
“So... Naturally this seemed like the perfect location for you to come and make cinnamon rolls?” Sam inquired.
The unicorn closed its shockingly blue eyes, its unicorn shoulders slumping a little. “No. Unicorns don’t tend to make cinnamon rolls.”
“You don’t?” asked Dean.
“We’re UNICORNS! We live in MEADOWS! What do YOU THINK?”
“Ummm?”
“No. I... Well... My mom heard about the Hot Pockets. And your shampoo, Dean Winchester.”
“She did?”
“What about them?” Sam asked.
“She demanded I make an apology. She seems to think that unicorns need to uphold some sort of unicorn standards, as if there even is such a thing!” The unicorn’s tail thwacked angrily against Bobby’s fridge some more; this time a couple of lollipops cascaded out of its bright pink strands.
Dean smiled and his sleepy eyes widened. “You can make candy outta your tail?”
“I’M A UNICORN!” the unicorn shouted with enough fury to wake the dead. Or at least to wake Bobby.
“Can I... have some candy?” asked Dean.
“What am I going to do with it?” the unicorn rolled its eyes. “But don’t go ruining your appetite for cinnamon rolls. You will eat my apology, and my unicorn mother will be happy with it.”
“So... Since you have a mother, I guess there is more than one unicorn,” said Sam, looking clever.
“What have I been saying ALL ALONG? You guys are NOT worth my cinnamon rolls. I have said, ‘I’m a unicorn. Not the unicorn!”
“Hey now Mr. Unicorn!” started Dean. “If you wanted us to pay that much attention to your grammar or whatever, you shouldn’t keep showing up so early in the morning.”
The unicorn gaped at Dean, rainbows glittering off its tongue as though it was a prism. “Mr. Unicorn is my FATHER!”
Sam tried his best to suppress a giggle.
“Can I eat my apology yet?” wondered Dean.
“No. You need to let them cool,” said the unicorn.
“To hell with that!” said Dean. “Use some of your unicorn powers to cool them off if you’re so worried.”
The unicorn considered this, and turned to blow on the tray of cinnamon rolls as one might blow on a spoonful of scalding soup. Sam was shaking his head in mild disbelief at all of this. Dean was licking a multi-colored lollipop he had picked off the floor. And this was the scene that Bobby Singer walked into in his kitchen at eight in the morning.
“What do you boys think yer doin’, talking to a unicorn?”
“Hey now, Bobby Singer,” the unicorn started to explain. “I’m just making some apology cinnamon rolls. There is nothing wrong with that!”
“This is my kitchen, Mr. Unicorn,” Bobby pointed out.
The unicorn sighed heavily, and clomped one of its hooves on the tiled floor in exasperation.
“Mr. Unicorn is his father,” Dean explained, still working on his lollipop. “Can I have my apology rolls now, Unicorn Jr.?”
“Did you just call me ‘Unicorn Jr.’?”
“Well...”
“No. That’s not going to work at all. Take your damn apology and shove it where you want it. I’m done with you Winchesters and I’m done with your pointless questions. I’m a unicorn and I’ve got more important things to deal with! Just because I’m sparkly and made of happiness doesn’t mean I’m not busy!”
The unicorn strode purposefully out of the kitchen and toward the front door, which opened for him as though Bobby’s house were a big box store with automatic doors.
Dean had one of the cinnamon rolls in his hand. Well, he had half of one, the other half was already in his mouth. “Dude!” he said through his food, “you’ve gotta try these. The best ever.”
“’Course it is, ya idjit. It was made by a unicorn.”
END.
For now!
On to The Unicorn Who Made Sam Feel Deeply Uncomfortable!