Crack Fic: Say What?!
SAY WHAT?!
Wordcount: who cares.
Summary: Fictional conversation. Make sure your chastity belts are in their upright and locked positions. P.S. I didn't do it.
Jensen joins Jared in front of the crowd, hikes himself up onto the stage amid deafening squeals and applause.
Jared: You can't sneak up here anymore. I can hear you coming from miles away.
Jensen: Ah, my ninja-fu is failing me.
Jared: You should go back to school.
Jensen: To become a pirate.
The audience laughs.
They whisper back and forth and chuckle as Jensen gets settled.
The fan with the microphone stands up.
Jared: Ahoy! *points*
Fan: Hi.
Jared: Hello.
Jensen: What's up?
Fan: I was wondering... if now that you're living together... you know...
Jensen: *scrunches his face* What?
Jared: Uh...
Fan: ... if you guys are, you know... together.
The crowd bursts into boos and hisses.
The fan titters behind her hand, completely unabashed.
Jensen and Jared look out at the crowd, then at each other.
They look back simultaneously and respond at the same time.
Jared: No.
Jensen: YES.
They look at each other with fake confusion and turn back to the crowd again.
Jared: YES.
Jensen: No.
Jared leans toward Jensen as if to whisper in confidence, but he keeps the microphone in front of him.
Jensen leans over to meet him.
They stage whisper.
Jared: Dude... I thought, you know. I thought we were-
Jensen: Together?
Jared: Yeah. Like... we spend so much time together. You take me out... you buy me things.
Jensen: True. True.
Jared: You live in my house...
Jensen: You helped me shop for my new bed...
Jared: I let you paint the walls blue...
Jensen: It sets off your eyes.
Jared: I know! But seriously ... I just thought we had something. You know? I thought you were the cherry in my ice cream sundae.
Jensen: Well, I am. We are... *waves a finger at the crowd* ... except for that we're not.
Jared: Ooooh.
Jensen: See.
Jared: I get it now.
Jensen: Yeah.
They turn back to the audience, Jared shaking his head and Jensen nodding.
Jared: NO.
Jensen: AB-SO-LUTE-LY ... not.
THE END(s)
Wordcount: who cares.
Summary: Fictional conversation. Make sure your chastity belts are in their upright and locked positions. P.S. I didn't do it.
Jensen joins Jared in front of the crowd, hikes himself up onto the stage amid deafening squeals and applause.
Jared: You can't sneak up here anymore. I can hear you coming from miles away.
Jensen: Ah, my ninja-fu is failing me.
Jared: You should go back to school.
Jensen: To become a pirate.
The audience laughs.
They whisper back and forth and chuckle as Jensen gets settled.
The fan with the microphone stands up.
Jared: Ahoy! *points*
Fan: Hi.
Jared: Hello.
Jensen: What's up?
Fan: I was wondering... if now that you're living together... you know...
Jensen: *scrunches his face* What?
Jared: Uh...
Fan: ... if you guys are, you know... together.
The crowd bursts into boos and hisses.
The fan titters behind her hand, completely unabashed.
Jensen and Jared look out at the crowd, then at each other.
They look back simultaneously and respond at the same time.
Jared: No.
Jensen: YES.
They look at each other with fake confusion and turn back to the crowd again.
Jared: YES.
Jensen: No.
Jared leans toward Jensen as if to whisper in confidence, but he keeps the microphone in front of him.
Jensen leans over to meet him.
They stage whisper.
Jared: Dude... I thought, you know. I thought we were-
Jensen: Together?
Jared: Yeah. Like... we spend so much time together. You take me out... you buy me things.
Jensen: True. True.
Jared: You live in my house...
Jensen: You helped me shop for my new bed...
Jared: I let you paint the walls blue...
Jensen: It sets off your eyes.
Jared: I know! But seriously ... I just thought we had something. You know? I thought you were the cherry in my ice cream sundae.
Jensen: Well, I am. We are... *waves a finger at the crowd* ... except for that we're not.
Jared: Ooooh.
Jensen: See.
Jared: I get it now.
Jensen: Yeah.
They turn back to the audience, Jared shaking his head and Jensen nodding.
Jared: NO.
Jensen: AB-SO-LUTE-LY ... not.
THE END(s)