Who'll make his mark
The captain cried
To the devil drink a toast
We'll glut the hold
With cups of gold
And we'll feed the sea with ghosts
I see your hunger for a fortune
Could be better
Served beneath my flag
If you've the stomach
For a broadside
Come aboard my pretty boys
I will take you and make you
Everything you've ever dreamed.
Obscenely loud
music is
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...Funny, I always imagined you to be more of a cowboy fan.
[It was meant to be a joke, but it sort of just got said because he didn't really have anything else, and it would probably be weird to just keep staring like that. Honestly, the entire thing was a little strange, even for Dean.
Plus, talking distracts him from the attractiveness of the scene because damn it he is so past this.]
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At least he looks well.]
I like cowboys, I just didn't think it'd pay enough homage to my new acquisitions.
[Unless he was emulating John Wayne in True Grit.]
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...O-Oh.
[Dean seriously lost a finger. And an eye. Kurt can't even begin to wrap his brain around this.]
What happened to you?
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Considering what's happened, that's probably for the better.]
Ran into a 'bout of torture.
[Dean smiles weakly.]
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[Aw, didn't you miss being berated by a 16-year-old for your stupid life choices? ♥]
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...you think I haven't noticed? My depth perception is crap, too.
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[He sighs, and pinches at the bridge of his nose. Dean is like twice his age, but it's like knowing a toddler sometimes.]
...How did this happen anyway?
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My, uh...I got a good friend who came over for beers, and- [He quiets a little.] I know this isn't gonna make any sense to you, but...it wasn't him. It was somebody who doesn't really like me all that much, and they were...they possessed him.
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