corduroy and other things of interest
Here have a story that's not a fanfiction (for once)! Although it is, clearly, heavily inspired by Dean and Sam. Of course. At this point I'm seriously doubting my ability to write anything not inspired by them. Anyway, the prompt was corderoy. Enjoy.
“Dude, corduroy is the worst fashion decision ever. I can’t believe you actually paid money for those.”
“There is nothing wrong with my fashion sense. There is something very wrong with your face, though.”
“…you do realize you just insulted your own face as well, seeing as we’re identical twins.”
“The point is, you’re the one who thinks three layers, the majority of which are flannel, is appropriate for every occasion.”
“Hey! I wear suits!”
“Only when you’re trying to get something out of an authority figure, Michael!”
“Whatever, Sam. You’re still the one wearing corduroy pants.”
“They are very durable and I refuse to -“
“Would you two princesses stop your whining and get your tails in gear? We still have sixty miles to walk and I’d rather not be out here when it gets dark. Sheriff said there’re wolves in these woods.”
“Sorry, Lydia.”
“Yeah, sorry Lyds.”
“Just hurry up. And don’t call me that. Mikey.”
“Point taken. Lydia.”
“It’s getting dark.”
“I can see that, genius.”
“No, I mean it’s really getting dark. And I don’t see any sign of the cabin. You see anything, Lydia?”
“No, but Bobby promised it was around here somewhere. Said he’d left it fully stocked and we could hole up there for as long as we needed to let things cool down with Gordon and his men.”
“Like that’s going to happen anytime this century. I told you guys he’d notice the switch, but nooooo, Sammy and Lydia know best, Michael, just let us handle this, he and his hit squad won’t notice a thing, we’ll get the money back to the Hills within a day or so. Then the next thing I know someone’s slipped up and we’ve got Gordy’s Gang on our tails.”
“Look, I said I was sorry, all right? How was I supposed to know that Gordon White of all people would know the difference between a vase from the Ming dynasty and a vase from Hong Kong.”
“Maybe if you’d done your research like you were supposed to -“
“- maybe if you’d actually done your job and kept him distracted -“
“ -maybe if you’d both shut up then we could focus on the circle of glowing eyes currently surrounding us.”
“….oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’.”
“Okay. What are our assets?”
“Your brains, Fezzick’s strength, my steel.”
“Michael.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez, take all the fun out of a life-threatening situation, why don’t you. I’ve got…my boot knife, handcuffs, and five sticks of chewing gum.”
“I’ve got three knives, a handmade Armani tie, and a piece of string.”
“I have a silver ring and a half empty hip flask and this very nice stick I just picked up. So if we were fighting werewolves instead of real wolves we’d be all set.”
“Way to look on the positive side, Lydia.”
“I try, Michael.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“How many of them do you think there are?”
“At least seven. Maybe nine or ten. They keep slipping around the trees - can’t tell for sure.”
“So what are the odds we’re all going to die here?”
“You want exact calculations or a rough estimate?”
“Oh, shut up, college boy.”
“Both of you shut up! Michael, get a stick or something for your other hand. Sam, lend me one of your knives. Don’t try and run; you’ll set off their hunter’s instinct. And they can smell fear so just - keep it together.”
“Right. Keep it together when you’re about to be torn apart by a pack of wolves. Got it.”
“Michael.”
“Sorry. Okay. You want to find trees to climb or something?”
“I think we should push ahead - they’re not attacking yet. Maybe we can make it to the cabin. Bobby said it was about a mile past the blasted oak, right? We passed something like that around a mile ago. So it should be pretty close.”
“All right. Stick together, don’t make any sudden movements, and if they get any closer, make a running leap for the nearest tree and pray they can’t climb.”
“…is it just me or does that big black one have red eyes?”
“…pretty sure that’s just the light from your flashlight reflecting.”
“Like how sure are you because my flashlight is LED so it’s more blue than red actually.”
“…38% sure?”
“I ever mention how much I hate statistics?”
“Yeah, think so.”
“If it helps any, I think the others’ eyes are all a pretty shade of inhuman gold.”
“Yeah, thanks, Lyds, that’s really helpful. I always like my deliverer of death to be suitably attractive.”
“First Michael and now you with the ‘Lyds’?”
“It does roll off the tongue trippingly.”
“Call me that again and you’ll see who’ll be tripping.”
“She’s cute when she’s mad, ain’t she, Sammy?”
“Michael, I think they’re getting closer.”
“No they’re no-actually, yeah, I think you’re right. See any climbable trees around?”
“No, but I do see the cabin. Run for it!”
“Sammy, hurry, the big one’s right behind you!”
“Sam, get in!”
“I’m in, I’m - augggghhhh! Okay, I’m in, I’m in, it’s just a little bite, close the door, close the door.”
“Where’d it get you? Sam? Sam!”
“I’m all right, I’m - gaaaahhh! Michael, I’ll be fine, just wash it out and maybe a couple stitches, I’ll be fine, it’s not like it was my throat or anything, and my pants got in the way, calm down.”
“Nobody don’t get to tell me to calm down when some pansy of a wolf just took my baby brother for a chew toy. Including my little brother. Lydia, get me the disinfectant and the suture kit.
“Ten minutes, Michael. You’re older by ten minutes and you are never going to let me - auguguh that stings - forget it.”
“You better believe I’m not letting you forget it. Lydia, the needle and thread. What kind of big brother would I be if I ever let that happen?”
“The not-jerk kind.”
“Excuse me, who’s the one stitching your hide up here?”
“’S my leg, not m’ whole hide and you’re doing a terrible job - look, the stitches are all - ahhh! - crooked.”
“You just be thankful it’s me and not Lydia or Bobby that’s doing this, because you know they would totally use neon orange thread and then you would have to cut off your own leg in sheer self-defense. Scissors.”
“Neon is evil, man. I’m pretty sure you would cut it off for me if they did that.”
“There. All done. Lydia’s made you a nice soft bed over here so just rest your pretty little head, Red Riding Hood, and I’ll tuck you in and read you a bedtime story.”
“You do know that whole story was a warning to innocent young girls about men being sexual predators, right?”
“Geek.”
“Drop-out. We have any painkillers?”
“Sorry, not any of the good stuff. Unless Bobby keeps some here, which is possible, I guess. You check, Lydia?”
“On it.”
“Michael.”
“Sammy.”
“I’ll be okay, right? I mean, what if my leg gets infected or - or -“
“Shut up. Just - just shut up. That’s not gonna happen. You’re my baby brother and I’m not going to let that happen.”
“I know, it’s just - there’s a pack of wolves outside. What if they don’t ever leave and we’re stuck here until we run out of food and -“
“Bobby had some of the good stuff. Here, Sam.”
“Sam, take the drugs, stop thinking, and go the hell to sleep. We’re all going to be fine. We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes. Worst comes to worst, we’ll send you out to puppy-dog eye them into being our friends and we’ll get our own personal hit squad.”
“The drugs should kick in after about ten minutes, Michael.”
“Okay. You go ahead and take the couch. I’m gonna bunk here in case he needs something. I’ll take first watch.”
“Right. Wake me up for my shift in two hours.”
“You got it.”
“I told you corduroy was durable.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“The doctor said if I hadn’t been wearing those pants that deflected the worst of the bite he might have had to take the leg.”
“Boys, could you maybe stop bickering for two minutes and focus on the fact that a wolf pack has apparently adopted us and it’s going to make it very difficult for us to do our jobs?”
“I still can’t believe the puppy-dog thing actually worked.”
“I think it was less the soulful eyes and more the fact that they think since they bit me and I didn’t die that I belong to their pack. It’s the weirdest hazing ritual I’ve ever gone through.”
“Whatever. I still say it was the patented eyes that did it.”
“Michael, that is the most idiotic -“
“- it’s not half as idiotic as your -“
“Would the two of you just shut up.”
“…”
“…”
“He started it.”
“SHUT UP!”
“Dude, corduroy is the worst fashion decision ever. I can’t believe you actually paid money for those.”
“There is nothing wrong with my fashion sense. There is something very wrong with your face, though.”
“…you do realize you just insulted your own face as well, seeing as we’re identical twins.”
“The point is, you’re the one who thinks three layers, the majority of which are flannel, is appropriate for every occasion.”
“Hey! I wear suits!”
“Only when you’re trying to get something out of an authority figure, Michael!”
“Whatever, Sam. You’re still the one wearing corduroy pants.”
“They are very durable and I refuse to -“
“Would you two princesses stop your whining and get your tails in gear? We still have sixty miles to walk and I’d rather not be out here when it gets dark. Sheriff said there’re wolves in these woods.”
“Sorry, Lydia.”
“Yeah, sorry Lyds.”
“Just hurry up. And don’t call me that. Mikey.”
“Point taken. Lydia.”
“It’s getting dark.”
“I can see that, genius.”
“No, I mean it’s really getting dark. And I don’t see any sign of the cabin. You see anything, Lydia?”
“No, but Bobby promised it was around here somewhere. Said he’d left it fully stocked and we could hole up there for as long as we needed to let things cool down with Gordon and his men.”
“Like that’s going to happen anytime this century. I told you guys he’d notice the switch, but nooooo, Sammy and Lydia know best, Michael, just let us handle this, he and his hit squad won’t notice a thing, we’ll get the money back to the Hills within a day or so. Then the next thing I know someone’s slipped up and we’ve got Gordy’s Gang on our tails.”
“Look, I said I was sorry, all right? How was I supposed to know that Gordon White of all people would know the difference between a vase from the Ming dynasty and a vase from Hong Kong.”
“Maybe if you’d done your research like you were supposed to -“
“- maybe if you’d actually done your job and kept him distracted -“
“ -maybe if you’d both shut up then we could focus on the circle of glowing eyes currently surrounding us.”
“….oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’.”
“Okay. What are our assets?”
“Your brains, Fezzick’s strength, my steel.”
“Michael.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez, take all the fun out of a life-threatening situation, why don’t you. I’ve got…my boot knife, handcuffs, and five sticks of chewing gum.”
“I’ve got three knives, a handmade Armani tie, and a piece of string.”
“I have a silver ring and a half empty hip flask and this very nice stick I just picked up. So if we were fighting werewolves instead of real wolves we’d be all set.”
“Way to look on the positive side, Lydia.”
“I try, Michael.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“How many of them do you think there are?”
“At least seven. Maybe nine or ten. They keep slipping around the trees - can’t tell for sure.”
“So what are the odds we’re all going to die here?”
“You want exact calculations or a rough estimate?”
“Oh, shut up, college boy.”
“Both of you shut up! Michael, get a stick or something for your other hand. Sam, lend me one of your knives. Don’t try and run; you’ll set off their hunter’s instinct. And they can smell fear so just - keep it together.”
“Right. Keep it together when you’re about to be torn apart by a pack of wolves. Got it.”
“Michael.”
“Sorry. Okay. You want to find trees to climb or something?”
“I think we should push ahead - they’re not attacking yet. Maybe we can make it to the cabin. Bobby said it was about a mile past the blasted oak, right? We passed something like that around a mile ago. So it should be pretty close.”
“All right. Stick together, don’t make any sudden movements, and if they get any closer, make a running leap for the nearest tree and pray they can’t climb.”
“…is it just me or does that big black one have red eyes?”
“…pretty sure that’s just the light from your flashlight reflecting.”
“Like how sure are you because my flashlight is LED so it’s more blue than red actually.”
“…38% sure?”
“I ever mention how much I hate statistics?”
“Yeah, think so.”
“If it helps any, I think the others’ eyes are all a pretty shade of inhuman gold.”
“Yeah, thanks, Lyds, that’s really helpful. I always like my deliverer of death to be suitably attractive.”
“First Michael and now you with the ‘Lyds’?”
“It does roll off the tongue trippingly.”
“Call me that again and you’ll see who’ll be tripping.”
“She’s cute when she’s mad, ain’t she, Sammy?”
“Michael, I think they’re getting closer.”
“No they’re no-actually, yeah, I think you’re right. See any climbable trees around?”
“No, but I do see the cabin. Run for it!”
“Sammy, hurry, the big one’s right behind you!”
“Sam, get in!”
“I’m in, I’m - augggghhhh! Okay, I’m in, I’m in, it’s just a little bite, close the door, close the door.”
“Where’d it get you? Sam? Sam!”
“I’m all right, I’m - gaaaahhh! Michael, I’ll be fine, just wash it out and maybe a couple stitches, I’ll be fine, it’s not like it was my throat or anything, and my pants got in the way, calm down.”
“Nobody don’t get to tell me to calm down when some pansy of a wolf just took my baby brother for a chew toy. Including my little brother. Lydia, get me the disinfectant and the suture kit.
“Ten minutes, Michael. You’re older by ten minutes and you are never going to let me - auguguh that stings - forget it.”
“You better believe I’m not letting you forget it. Lydia, the needle and thread. What kind of big brother would I be if I ever let that happen?”
“The not-jerk kind.”
“Excuse me, who’s the one stitching your hide up here?”
“’S my leg, not m’ whole hide and you’re doing a terrible job - look, the stitches are all - ahhh! - crooked.”
“You just be thankful it’s me and not Lydia or Bobby that’s doing this, because you know they would totally use neon orange thread and then you would have to cut off your own leg in sheer self-defense. Scissors.”
“Neon is evil, man. I’m pretty sure you would cut it off for me if they did that.”
“There. All done. Lydia’s made you a nice soft bed over here so just rest your pretty little head, Red Riding Hood, and I’ll tuck you in and read you a bedtime story.”
“You do know that whole story was a warning to innocent young girls about men being sexual predators, right?”
“Geek.”
“Drop-out. We have any painkillers?”
“Sorry, not any of the good stuff. Unless Bobby keeps some here, which is possible, I guess. You check, Lydia?”
“On it.”
“Michael.”
“Sammy.”
“I’ll be okay, right? I mean, what if my leg gets infected or - or -“
“Shut up. Just - just shut up. That’s not gonna happen. You’re my baby brother and I’m not going to let that happen.”
“I know, it’s just - there’s a pack of wolves outside. What if they don’t ever leave and we’re stuck here until we run out of food and -“
“Bobby had some of the good stuff. Here, Sam.”
“Sam, take the drugs, stop thinking, and go the hell to sleep. We’re all going to be fine. We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes. Worst comes to worst, we’ll send you out to puppy-dog eye them into being our friends and we’ll get our own personal hit squad.”
“The drugs should kick in after about ten minutes, Michael.”
“Okay. You go ahead and take the couch. I’m gonna bunk here in case he needs something. I’ll take first watch.”
“Right. Wake me up for my shift in two hours.”
“You got it.”
“I told you corduroy was durable.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“The doctor said if I hadn’t been wearing those pants that deflected the worst of the bite he might have had to take the leg.”
“Boys, could you maybe stop bickering for two minutes and focus on the fact that a wolf pack has apparently adopted us and it’s going to make it very difficult for us to do our jobs?”
“I still can’t believe the puppy-dog thing actually worked.”
“I think it was less the soulful eyes and more the fact that they think since they bit me and I didn’t die that I belong to their pack. It’s the weirdest hazing ritual I’ve ever gone through.”
“Whatever. I still say it was the patented eyes that did it.”
“Michael, that is the most idiotic -“
“- it’s not half as idiotic as your -“
“Would the two of you just shut up.”
“…”
“…”
“He started it.”
“SHUT UP!”