Angel Translation Service
Written via e-mail exchange between Lynne and Georgia (with contributions from Joan), 5 May 2009
The Place: Milliways Bar
The Time: End of the Universe/Some Undetermined Time Around 1990/Fall of 2008 (depending on who you ask)
MEG FORD sits in a chair vaguely "near the fireplace" with a book open across her knees.
CASTIEL enters through a suddenly appearing door (upstage left) dragging DEAN WINCHESTER into the bar by his ear. Pauses, looks around, (ignoring any and all muttered protests over the ear-pulling thing) and then heads across the bar.
CASTIEL shoves DEAN down into the chair nearest MEG's, and points at him.
Castiel: Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeg. Make him MAKE SENSE.
Dean: [looks at Meg, looks at Castiel] Dude, I don't think asking her's gonna be much help.
Meg: [dry as the proverbial dust] Off hand, I can't think of anyone or anything that IS going to be much help with that.
Dean: Well, YEAH. Duh. [smirks at Castiel] Damn shame about that, huh?
Castiel: [breaking out the ANGEL REVERB effect from On the Head of a Pin] Neither of you is going ANYWHERE until he makes sense.
Meg: . . . . oh, shit.
X: [appears] Meg will starve. That is not good.
Dean: What am I, chopped liver?
X: [frowns] I do not think so. It is relevant?
Dean: . . . . great. I'm in Hell again.
Meg: [politely] Laura, this is Dean. Dean, Laura. Do you two know each other? Outside your mun's headspace, I mean? [to Castiel] Also, isn't starving me a little against the rules?
Castiel: [realizes this plan is running a bit awry] No one is going to starve!
Manna: [begins to rain from the ceiling]
X: [nods] He saw me spar. With 494. [investigates manna, determines it is safe]
Dean: Dude, how the -- never mind. [also investigates manna] Jeeze, Cas, this tastes like frickin' cardboard. Talk about cruel and unusual. Can't you at least phone in for pizza?
Castiel: [uncertainly] I could probably get locusts and wild honey? Or loaves and fishes?
Meg: [stops trying to get the manna out of her hair and eyes the ceiling warily] This is good, thanks.
TIME passes (possibly figuratively, but equally possible that a guy with an hour glass literally walks by, as this is Milliways). Cut back to OUR HEROES, sitting now knee deep in manna, but with beer and pizza, too.
Castiel: [elbows on table, head in hands] Explain it one more time?
Meg: In simplest terms . . . he thinks you're a dick. Which . . . is an insult, but I'm not explaining exactly how.
X: Our situation is not improving. [eyes still falling manna]
Sam: [entering, and not up to his knees in the growing piles of manna, because he is Just That Tall] . . . . [eyes everyone] Dean?
Dean: Pretty sure I've been kidnapped, Sammy. Pull up a chair. And bring more beer.
Sam: [hesitates] . . . [gets more beer]
Parker and 494: [sit in magically appearing balcony, munch popcorn, and comment a la Statler and Waldorf]
The Place: Milliways Bar
The Time: End of the Universe/Some Undetermined Time Around 1990/Fall of 2008 (depending on who you ask)
MEG FORD sits in a chair vaguely "near the fireplace" with a book open across her knees.
CASTIEL enters through a suddenly appearing door (upstage left) dragging DEAN WINCHESTER into the bar by his ear. Pauses, looks around, (ignoring any and all muttered protests over the ear-pulling thing) and then heads across the bar.
CASTIEL shoves DEAN down into the chair nearest MEG's, and points at him.
Castiel: Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeg. Make him MAKE SENSE.
Dean: [looks at Meg, looks at Castiel] Dude, I don't think asking her's gonna be much help.
Meg: [dry as the proverbial dust] Off hand, I can't think of anyone or anything that IS going to be much help with that.
Dean: Well, YEAH. Duh. [smirks at Castiel] Damn shame about that, huh?
Castiel: [breaking out the ANGEL REVERB effect from On the Head of a Pin] Neither of you is going ANYWHERE until he makes sense.
Meg: . . . . oh, shit.
X: [appears] Meg will starve. That is not good.
Dean: What am I, chopped liver?
X: [frowns] I do not think so. It is relevant?
Dean: . . . . great. I'm in Hell again.
Meg: [politely] Laura, this is Dean. Dean, Laura. Do you two know each other? Outside your mun's headspace, I mean? [to Castiel] Also, isn't starving me a little against the rules?
Castiel: [realizes this plan is running a bit awry] No one is going to starve!
Manna: [begins to rain from the ceiling]
X: [nods] He saw me spar. With 494. [investigates manna, determines it is safe]
Dean: Dude, how the -- never mind. [also investigates manna] Jeeze, Cas, this tastes like frickin' cardboard. Talk about cruel and unusual. Can't you at least phone in for pizza?
Castiel: [uncertainly] I could probably get locusts and wild honey? Or loaves and fishes?
Meg: [stops trying to get the manna out of her hair and eyes the ceiling warily] This is good, thanks.
TIME passes (possibly figuratively, but equally possible that a guy with an hour glass literally walks by, as this is Milliways). Cut back to OUR HEROES, sitting now knee deep in manna, but with beer and pizza, too.
Castiel: [elbows on table, head in hands] Explain it one more time?
Meg: In simplest terms . . . he thinks you're a dick. Which . . . is an insult, but I'm not explaining exactly how.
X: Our situation is not improving. [eyes still falling manna]
Sam: [entering, and not up to his knees in the growing piles of manna, because he is Just That Tall] . . . . [eyes everyone] Dean?
Dean: Pretty sure I've been kidnapped, Sammy. Pull up a chair. And bring more beer.
Sam: [hesitates] . . . [gets more beer]
Parker and 494: [sit in magically appearing balcony, munch popcorn, and comment a la Statler and Waldorf]