Post by Dean Winchester on Dec 19, 2015 20:43:21 GMT -5
ooc; SEASON FIVE. EPISODE EIGHT.
Dean sat riveted in front of the television screen in their motel room, raptly watching the latest Dr. Sexy M.D. episode. Dr. Sexy and Dr. Piccolo were making out in the elevator. Sam stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting his tie. "What are you watching?" "Some hospital show" Dean explained vaguely as though he wasn't 100% sure. "Dr. Sexy, MD. I think it's based on a book." Sam snorted. "When did you hit menopause?" "It's called channel surfing." Dean rose, snapped off the television and grabbed his suit jacket from the bed. "Are you ready?" Sam looked as though he was trying very hard to conceal a smile. "Are you?" Ignoring him, Dean grabbed his keys and walked out.
~~~
"One more time, the FBI is here why, exactly?" The local deputy looked a bit dubious, even after the boys had shown him their badges. "Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off" Dean pointed out with a massive amount of "duh" in his demeanor. "Bill Randolph died from a bear attack" the deputy informed them stiffly. "How sure are you that it was a bear" Sam wanted to know, raising an eyebrow. The deputy frowned. "What else would it be?" "Well whatever it was, it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom" Dean recounted from the police report sarcastically. "Is that common, a bear doing all that?" "Depends how pissed off it is, I guess" the deputy hedged uncertainly before regaining his authority. "Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. And bears. Big ones." "Right." Sam smiled politely and changed the subject slightly. "Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing." "She did." The deputy nodded, looking sorrowful. "My heart goes out to that poor woman." Dean leaned closer doubtfully. "...and she said bear?"
The deputy hesitated and then delivered what was probably the company policy line for 'crazy' people. "Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused." Sam and Dean looked at each other and then back to the deputy.
"What did she say?"
~~~
"No, it must have been a bear." Kathy Randolph and the Winchesters sat across from each other in the interrogation room. Kathy was clutching her coffee mug like a life line and refused to meet either Winchester's eye. "I mean, what else could it have been?" "Mrs. Randolph, what do you think it was" Sam pressed gently, trying to get her attention. "No, I, I remember clearly now." She shook her head frantically, staring at the table. "It was definitely a bear." "We're sure it was" Dean assured her patiently. "But see, it helps us to hear every angle. So just tell us...what you thought you saw." "It's impossible, but...I could have sworn I saw..." She finally looked up, her focus somewhere between the brothers. "The Incredible Hulk."
"The Incredible Hulk" Sam echoed blankly. "I told you it was crazy" Kathy reminded them, looking upset. Dean opened his mouth, could think of nothing to say, and closed it again. He tried again, finally coming up with, "Bana or Norton?" It was literally the only thing he could think of to say. "Oh, no, those movies were terrible." Kathy waved this off with a shake of the head. "The TV Hulk." "Lou Ferrigno" Dean clarified. Kathy nodded. "Yes." "Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno" Dean clarified one step further. Kathy nodded again. "Yes." Dean and Sam swapped a look. Once again Dean could think of nothing to say other than a simple, "huh." "You think I'm crazy" Kathy wailed, burying her face in her hands. "No" Dean reassured her quickly. "Uh, no, it's just...is there, uh, would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno...the Incredible Hulk...would have a grudge against your husband?" Kathy lifted her head from her arms, looking at Dean as if HE were the crazy one. "...no."
~~~
Dean sat at the kitchen table in the motel room at his computer, going over everything he'd found out thusfar about Bill Randolph. Sam stepped through the door, tossed the Impala's keys onto the closer of the two beds, and shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the back of one of the table's three chairs. "Hey." Dean looked up. "Find anything?" Sam gave his head a bemused shake. "Well...I saw the house." "And" Dean prompted. "And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be" Sam explained. "Almost like, uh"- "A hulk sized hole" Dean filled in, smiling knowingly. "Maybe" Sam allowed, also smiling. "So what do you got?" Dean pulled up the hospital and jail records he'd managed to gain access to. "Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions." He paused a beat and then finished with an ironic smile. "You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."
"So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead" Sam concluded. "Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?" Dean tilted his head to one side, considering this, but before he'd even had a chance to weigh in on it, Sam was continuing. "It's all starting to make sense." Dean rose to his feet, crossing the kitchen to grab a beer bottle from the mini-fridge, and twist off its cap easily. "How is it starting to make sense?" It was still all pretty much mud-like to him. "Well, I found something else at the crime scene." Sam pulled his jacket from the chair, reached into one of its pockets and surfaced with a handful of candy wrappers, which he then allowed to sift through his fingers, littering the table. "Candy wrappers. Lots of them." Dean took a swig of beer, then set the bottle aside and moved back over to the table, scrunching one of the candy wrappers up in his palm. "Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em." It clicked. "We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?" "Sure looks like it" Sam agreed, returning his jacket to the chair. "Good." Dean ran the wrapper through his fingers. "I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot." "You sure?" Dean stared at his brother following this question. "Yeah, I'm sure." "No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him" Sam clarified, causing Dean's staring to become much more prominent. "Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me" he reminded him curtly. "A thousand times."
"No, I know that" Sam assured him quickly, holding up his hands. "I mean, I'm just saying"- "What are you saying" Dean demanded impatiently. "If you don't want to kill him, then what?" Sam hesitated, but then, goaded by Dean's expression, finally spit it out. "Talk to him." Dean blinked, caught off-guard by this answer. "What??" "Think about it, Dean." Sam took a step closer intensely. "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him." Dean was still having a hard time processing that this idea was even on the table for discussion. "For what??" "Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right" Sam pointed out. "Wine, women, song—maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us." Dean searched and searched his brother's face for some tiny indication that he was about to yell "April Fools" or "Gotcha" but there was nothing. Leaving him to come to the disheartening realization of: "you're serious." Sam gave a firm nod. "Yeah." "Ally with the Trickster" Dean went on, his level of incredulity not lessening in the slightest. Sam nodded again, repeating himself. "Yeah." "A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him?" Dean shook his head with a scoff of disbelief. "Nice, Sammy."
"The world is gonna end, Dean" Sam reminded him defensively. "We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him." Dean sighed and relented. "How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?" "Well, he never takes just one victim, right?" Sam nodded confidently. "He'll show."
~~~
Later that afternoon, Dean was on his bed, sharpening a wooden stake while Sam sat at the table, staring at their rigged police scanner. For awhile it was quiet. Then, "Um, Dispatch? I, I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6." Sam glanced over one shoulder, getting Dean's attention. "Hey." Dean put down the stake and moved closer. "Roger that" the dispatcher was saying, the line crackling. "What are you looking at there, son?" "Honestly, Walt, I, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing" the other voice stammered. "Just—send everybody." "All right, stay calm, stay by your car" the dispatcher informed him. "Help's on the way." The line went dead. The Winchesters swapped a look. Dean raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds weird."
Dean sat riveted in front of the television screen in their motel room, raptly watching the latest Dr. Sexy M.D. episode. Dr. Sexy and Dr. Piccolo were making out in the elevator. Sam stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting his tie. "What are you watching?" "Some hospital show" Dean explained vaguely as though he wasn't 100% sure. "Dr. Sexy, MD. I think it's based on a book." Sam snorted. "When did you hit menopause?" "It's called channel surfing." Dean rose, snapped off the television and grabbed his suit jacket from the bed. "Are you ready?" Sam looked as though he was trying very hard to conceal a smile. "Are you?" Ignoring him, Dean grabbed his keys and walked out.
~~~
"One more time, the FBI is here why, exactly?" The local deputy looked a bit dubious, even after the boys had shown him their badges. "Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off" Dean pointed out with a massive amount of "duh" in his demeanor. "Bill Randolph died from a bear attack" the deputy informed them stiffly. "How sure are you that it was a bear" Sam wanted to know, raising an eyebrow. The deputy frowned. "What else would it be?" "Well whatever it was, it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom" Dean recounted from the police report sarcastically. "Is that common, a bear doing all that?" "Depends how pissed off it is, I guess" the deputy hedged uncertainly before regaining his authority. "Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. And bears. Big ones." "Right." Sam smiled politely and changed the subject slightly. "Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing." "She did." The deputy nodded, looking sorrowful. "My heart goes out to that poor woman." Dean leaned closer doubtfully. "...and she said bear?"
The deputy hesitated and then delivered what was probably the company policy line for 'crazy' people. "Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused." Sam and Dean looked at each other and then back to the deputy.
"What did she say?"
~~~
"No, it must have been a bear." Kathy Randolph and the Winchesters sat across from each other in the interrogation room. Kathy was clutching her coffee mug like a life line and refused to meet either Winchester's eye. "I mean, what else could it have been?" "Mrs. Randolph, what do you think it was" Sam pressed gently, trying to get her attention. "No, I, I remember clearly now." She shook her head frantically, staring at the table. "It was definitely a bear." "We're sure it was" Dean assured her patiently. "But see, it helps us to hear every angle. So just tell us...what you thought you saw." "It's impossible, but...I could have sworn I saw..." She finally looked up, her focus somewhere between the brothers. "The Incredible Hulk."
"The Incredible Hulk" Sam echoed blankly. "I told you it was crazy" Kathy reminded them, looking upset. Dean opened his mouth, could think of nothing to say, and closed it again. He tried again, finally coming up with, "Bana or Norton?" It was literally the only thing he could think of to say. "Oh, no, those movies were terrible." Kathy waved this off with a shake of the head. "The TV Hulk." "Lou Ferrigno" Dean clarified. Kathy nodded. "Yes." "Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno" Dean clarified one step further. Kathy nodded again. "Yes." Dean and Sam swapped a look. Once again Dean could think of nothing to say other than a simple, "huh." "You think I'm crazy" Kathy wailed, burying her face in her hands. "No" Dean reassured her quickly. "Uh, no, it's just...is there, uh, would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno...the Incredible Hulk...would have a grudge against your husband?" Kathy lifted her head from her arms, looking at Dean as if HE were the crazy one. "...no."
~~~
Dean sat at the kitchen table in the motel room at his computer, going over everything he'd found out thusfar about Bill Randolph. Sam stepped through the door, tossed the Impala's keys onto the closer of the two beds, and shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the back of one of the table's three chairs. "Hey." Dean looked up. "Find anything?" Sam gave his head a bemused shake. "Well...I saw the house." "And" Dean prompted. "And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be" Sam explained. "Almost like, uh"- "A hulk sized hole" Dean filled in, smiling knowingly. "Maybe" Sam allowed, also smiling. "So what do you got?" Dean pulled up the hospital and jail records he'd managed to gain access to. "Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions." He paused a beat and then finished with an ironic smile. "You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry."
"So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead" Sam concluded. "Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?" Dean tilted his head to one side, considering this, but before he'd even had a chance to weigh in on it, Sam was continuing. "It's all starting to make sense." Dean rose to his feet, crossing the kitchen to grab a beer bottle from the mini-fridge, and twist off its cap easily. "How is it starting to make sense?" It was still all pretty much mud-like to him. "Well, I found something else at the crime scene." Sam pulled his jacket from the chair, reached into one of its pockets and surfaced with a handful of candy wrappers, which he then allowed to sift through his fingers, littering the table. "Candy wrappers. Lots of them." Dean took a swig of beer, then set the bottle aside and moved back over to the table, scrunching one of the candy wrappers up in his palm. "Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em." It clicked. "We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?" "Sure looks like it" Sam agreed, returning his jacket to the chair. "Good." Dean ran the wrapper through his fingers. "I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot." "You sure?" Dean stared at his brother following this question. "Yeah, I'm sure." "No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him" Sam clarified, causing Dean's staring to become much more prominent. "Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me" he reminded him curtly. "A thousand times."
"No, I know that" Sam assured him quickly, holding up his hands. "I mean, I'm just saying"- "What are you saying" Dean demanded impatiently. "If you don't want to kill him, then what?" Sam hesitated, but then, goaded by Dean's expression, finally spit it out. "Talk to him." Dean blinked, caught off-guard by this answer. "What??" "Think about it, Dean." Sam took a step closer intensely. "He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him." Dean was still having a hard time processing that this idea was even on the table for discussion. "For what??" "Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right" Sam pointed out. "Wine, women, song—maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us." Dean searched and searched his brother's face for some tiny indication that he was about to yell "April Fools" or "Gotcha" but there was nothing. Leaving him to come to the disheartening realization of: "you're serious." Sam gave a firm nod. "Yeah." "Ally with the Trickster" Dean went on, his level of incredulity not lessening in the slightest. Sam nodded again, repeating himself. "Yeah." "A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him?" Dean shook his head with a scoff of disbelief. "Nice, Sammy."
"The world is gonna end, Dean" Sam reminded him defensively. "We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him." Dean sighed and relented. "How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?" "Well, he never takes just one victim, right?" Sam nodded confidently. "He'll show."
~~~
Later that afternoon, Dean was on his bed, sharpening a wooden stake while Sam sat at the table, staring at their rigged police scanner. For awhile it was quiet. Then, "Um, Dispatch? I, I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6." Sam glanced over one shoulder, getting Dean's attention. "Hey." Dean put down the stake and moved closer. "Roger that" the dispatcher was saying, the line crackling. "What are you looking at there, son?" "Honestly, Walt, I, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing" the other voice stammered. "Just—send everybody." "All right, stay calm, stay by your car" the dispatcher informed him. "Help's on the way." The line went dead. The Winchesters swapped a look. Dean raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds weird."
