SPN Fanfic: Spongy Yellow Deliciousness
I haven't posted fanfic here since February, which is just wrong. No promises this is any good though, and I may chicken out and delete it won't be deleting it unless Hostess threatens to sue.
Title: Spongy Yellow Deliciousness
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Content: Gen, PG-13, Silliness. DOES NOT MESH ANY TIMELINES IN ANY WAY. Crack. Not to be taken seriously at all. Title is a quote from Zombieland which I have yet to see.
Word Count: 500-ish
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any part or portion of Hostess Brands or their owners or subsidiaries, of which Twinkies are a trademarked property. I am not intending to defame Hostess Brands in any way, nor am I suggesting that Twinkies cannot be enjoyed in moderation as part of a healthy diet. I will state very firmly that to my knowledge, no real Twinkie has ever contained mind-altering substances from another dimension.
A/N: Right, so. I wrote this last year when Twinkies stopped being made in the US (because, well, Dean would obviously have something to say), but it seemed kind of blah so I never posted it. I'm posting it now because when I looked it up today out of morbid curiosity, I found that apparently I'm psychic and predicted the Twinkie Reboot that's happening in mid-July this year. O.o
Summary: Dean returns from Purgatory to find that some things have changed.
-
Spongy Yellow Deliciousness
by Caffienekitty
-
Dean dropped his armload of beef jerky, nachos, corn dogs and miscellaneous road food on the gas station counter. Life outside of Purgatory was pretty good, but one more thing was needed to top off the celebratory junk-feast. "Hey, man, where're you hiding the Twinkies?"
The clerk's face fell, like Dean had just told him his dog died.
Dean smiled warily. "...What?"
"You don't know?" the clerk said, voice hushed. "Where have you been?"
"Away." Dean's jaw clenched. "Don't know what?"
"You poor bastard. At least most of us had time to hoard and prepare but-" The clerk shook his head. "You poor, poor bastard."
Fingers itching to grab the clerk by the collar of his green smock and shake answers out of him, Dean growled. "Tell me."
-
The hotel door slammed and Dean's bag of junk food hit the side table, rustling. "Okay. What the hell happened, Sam?"
Sam looked up and blinked. "Uhhh, could you be a little more specific?"
"Twinkies. Ding dongs. What the hell happened?"
"Ah." Sam closed the laptop. "I thought you wouldn't notice because you usually get the knock-off brand-"
"Twinkies! How would I not notice the absence of Twinkies?!" Dean took a breath. "Just- just tell me what happened, Sam."
Sam ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. "Well, it was partly economics, but it was mostly Dick Roman."
"Dick Roman ended Twinkies?" Dean growled.
"In a way." Sam shrugged. "Twinkies are almost solid corn syrup and chemicals. The Leviathans' plan with the food chain meant that the entire product line was heavily contaminated. They had a stockpile of that Leviathan crap that would last them for ages. Near as I can tell, hunters took it out."
"Are you telling me hunters burned down the Twinkie factory? Because that's so many levels of wrong-"
"No, no. They did some kind of-" Sam waved a hand in the air "-thing, talked to the union reps, gave them a little demonstration of what Dick Roman's stuff did to people... it was all bureaucratic and put down to economic conditions. The stockpile is destroyed. No bloodshed."
"But Twinkies, Sam! Ding Dongs!"
"Other manufacturers are interested in the recipes. They'll be back in production before you know it, this time without the Leviathan corn syrup."
"How long?"
"Six months, maybe a year."
"A year. With no Twinkies." Dean sat down at the hotel dinette table and thunked his forehead against the aged formica.
-
It was only seven months and several thousand miles later when Dean spotted the distinctively-marked truck going South on the I 25.
"Sam!" Dean swatted his dozing brother. "Look!"
Sam grunted, rubbed his eyes and looked out the window at the truck's familiar Hostess logo, freshly painted yellow cream-filled sponge cake glowing in the July pre-dawn light.
"Twinkies," Dean whispered reverently. "They're back."
Sam snorted and shook his head.
Dean's smirk drooped a little, and he frowned as he stared back out at the road rolling past. "It's just, you know. No more Leviathan goop. I just thought-"
Sam laughed."It's fine, Dean. I understand. Let's follow the Twinkie truck."
Dean grinned and pulled the Impala into the slow lane behind it, following the truck all the way to Denver.
- - -
(that's all)
Title: Spongy Yellow Deliciousness
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Content: Gen, PG-13, Silliness. DOES NOT MESH ANY TIMELINES IN ANY WAY. Crack. Not to be taken seriously at all. Title is a quote from Zombieland which I have yet to see.
Word Count: 500-ish
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any part or portion of Hostess Brands or their owners or subsidiaries, of which Twinkies are a trademarked property. I am not intending to defame Hostess Brands in any way, nor am I suggesting that Twinkies cannot be enjoyed in moderation as part of a healthy diet. I will state very firmly that to my knowledge, no real Twinkie has ever contained mind-altering substances from another dimension.
A/N: Right, so. I wrote this last year when Twinkies stopped being made in the US (because, well, Dean would obviously have something to say), but it seemed kind of blah so I never posted it. I'm posting it now because when I looked it up today out of morbid curiosity, I found that apparently I'm psychic and predicted the Twinkie Reboot that's happening in mid-July this year. O.o
Summary: Dean returns from Purgatory to find that some things have changed.
-
Spongy Yellow Deliciousness
by Caffienekitty
-
Dean dropped his armload of beef jerky, nachos, corn dogs and miscellaneous road food on the gas station counter. Life outside of Purgatory was pretty good, but one more thing was needed to top off the celebratory junk-feast. "Hey, man, where're you hiding the Twinkies?"
The clerk's face fell, like Dean had just told him his dog died.
Dean smiled warily. "...What?"
"You don't know?" the clerk said, voice hushed. "Where have you been?"
"Away." Dean's jaw clenched. "Don't know what?"
"You poor bastard. At least most of us had time to hoard and prepare but-" The clerk shook his head. "You poor, poor bastard."
Fingers itching to grab the clerk by the collar of his green smock and shake answers out of him, Dean growled. "Tell me."
-
The hotel door slammed and Dean's bag of junk food hit the side table, rustling. "Okay. What the hell happened, Sam?"
Sam looked up and blinked. "Uhhh, could you be a little more specific?"
"Twinkies. Ding dongs. What the hell happened?"
"Ah." Sam closed the laptop. "I thought you wouldn't notice because you usually get the knock-off brand-"
"Twinkies! How would I not notice the absence of Twinkies?!" Dean took a breath. "Just- just tell me what happened, Sam."
Sam ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. "Well, it was partly economics, but it was mostly Dick Roman."
"Dick Roman ended Twinkies?" Dean growled.
"In a way." Sam shrugged. "Twinkies are almost solid corn syrup and chemicals. The Leviathans' plan with the food chain meant that the entire product line was heavily contaminated. They had a stockpile of that Leviathan crap that would last them for ages. Near as I can tell, hunters took it out."
"Are you telling me hunters burned down the Twinkie factory? Because that's so many levels of wrong-"
"No, no. They did some kind of-" Sam waved a hand in the air "-thing, talked to the union reps, gave them a little demonstration of what Dick Roman's stuff did to people... it was all bureaucratic and put down to economic conditions. The stockpile is destroyed. No bloodshed."
"But Twinkies, Sam! Ding Dongs!"
"Other manufacturers are interested in the recipes. They'll be back in production before you know it, this time without the Leviathan corn syrup."
"How long?"
"Six months, maybe a year."
"A year. With no Twinkies." Dean sat down at the hotel dinette table and thunked his forehead against the aged formica.
-
It was only seven months and several thousand miles later when Dean spotted the distinctively-marked truck going South on the I 25.
"Sam!" Dean swatted his dozing brother. "Look!"
Sam grunted, rubbed his eyes and looked out the window at the truck's familiar Hostess logo, freshly painted yellow cream-filled sponge cake glowing in the July pre-dawn light.
"Twinkies," Dean whispered reverently. "They're back."
Sam snorted and shook his head.
Dean's smirk drooped a little, and he frowned as he stared back out at the road rolling past. "It's just, you know. No more Leviathan goop. I just thought-"
Sam laughed."It's fine, Dean. I understand. Let's follow the Twinkie truck."
Dean grinned and pulled the Impala into the slow lane behind it, following the truck all the way to Denver.
- - -
(that's all)