September 17th, 2016

Hug Jensen Rob
  • jj1564

DEW - Dean's Got Talent

Title: Dean’s Got Talent
Author: jj1564
Rating: pg
Word Count: 100
Characters: Sam and Dean
Summary: Dean has a great plan to make money using one of his talents, Sam isn’t so keen.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, this is purely for fun.
Prompt: DEW – Place one or more Supernatural characters of your choice in a reality TV show. – I tweaked the prompt a bit as I don’t watch reality tv but I am a sucker for talent shows!
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DeW: Hell on Wheels

Title: Hell on Wheels
Author: fanspired
Prompt: Special Challenge: Place one or more Supernatural characters of your choice in a reality TV show.
[A/N: Technically, this is a radio show, but it's based on an actual competition that took place on an Aussie radio show. This competition then inspired a TV show called "The House from Hell" that, in turn, inspired the global reality TV phenomenon: "Big Brother". Bet you didn't know it was the Aussies that started it, eh? . . . Oh, the shame.]
Genre: humour
Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester
Rating: PG for a minor curse word or two.
Word count: 365
Warning/Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I write for love only.

Summary: The rules of “Hell on Wheels” are simple: last one in the car wins it. Sam and Dean laughed so hard when they heard about it.

Sam blinked awake as the opening chords of “Highway to Hell” assaulted his ears for the fortieth time that week. There were 2000 tracks on the Ipod but Dean only seemed able to find AC/DC.

“Welcome to the new Winchester motel,” Dean greeted him cheerily and passed him a beer. “We don’t have cable, but we still have room service.”

Sam tapped the small screen embedded in the back of the passenger seat. “Actually, I think we might have cable. If you just let me in the front for a bit I might be able to find the – “

“No chance in hell, Sammy.”

Sam sighed. Reaching up, he pressed a button in the roof panel and the sky-light opened with a smooth electronic whirr. The fresh air barely made a difference to the rankness in the vehicle’s interior, but it helped a little.

“This car does have some great features,” he observed.

“Yeah, but I miss the bench seat,” Dean retorted, pressing a button that gently lowered his back rest until Sam’s legs were crushed beneath it.

 Sam sighed again, closed the roof once more, and let one rip.

The radio station manager approached the show producer. “Any change?” he asked tersely.

“Not since they drove the other contestants out of the car in the first few hours. Now they just seem to be getting comfortable.”

“They’re not arguing at all?”

“Oh, they’re arguing all the time! Just doesn’t seem to bother them.”

“How long’s it been now?”

“Eight days.”

The manager clicked his teeth in frustration. “Check with the lawyers. See if we can stop feeding them,” he snapped. “And take away the beer!”

Dean was trying to open the sky-light but Sam had managed to get a foot out from under the seat and had it wedged in his brother’s face instead. “Have you thought about what the hell we’re going to do with an extra car when we win it?” he asked conversationally while he resisted Dean’s efforts to reach the roof panel.

“When I win it, you mean,” Dean insisted through clenched teeth as he tried not to gag.

“Or, I win.”

“Dream on, Bitch.”

Sam waggled his toes. “Jerk.”