My niece, the budding fangirl author.
My eleven year old niece wrote me a story for my birthday. She and her older sister have been watching Supernatural with me from Year One and it's become more than just a show to watch. It's a familial touchstone. We can speak in SPN shorthand: quotes and catchphrases. Most years I get a collage of cut outs from the SPN Magazine. It's well-recognized that I am a Dean "girl" ( snort) and that's okay because they are both Sammy girls. But we don't hold it against each other. My nieces' hamsters and goldfish have all been given SPN names - Bobby the Chinese dwarf hamster is currently neighbors with Gabriel the goldfish. ( Sam, Dean, Castiel, Jo and Ellen have all been flushed or buried over the years, may they rest in peace.)
I proudly (oh, so proudly) present my niece's first piece of fan fic:
The Peculiar Case Of The Pie
Sam was asleep in the passenger seat as Dean drove down the street in his Chevy Impala.
It had been a while since they had dealt with Death, and Dean was worried what he was up to.
Dean, unable to help himself, grabbed two pennies out of the glove compartment, acknowledging the army men that were jabbed into it.
With one hand, he stuck a penny up each of Sam’s nostrils, and laughed to himself.
Sam snorted, jolted awake, and blew the pennies from his nose.
“Dean, dude!” said Sam as he put the pennies back.
“That was too funny, Sammy,” Dean chuckled, turning on the radio. He started singing “Livin’ On a Prayer” before Sam’s phone rang.
“I gotta take this one, turn off the music,” said Sam quickly as he answered.
Dean peeked at Sam as Sam nodded and said, “Mmmhmm.”
“Dean, it’s Betty. Her dog Sweetie Pie is having a psychic breakdown, it might be the work of Death!”
Dean spun the car around, toward Betty’s house.
When they arrived, Betty rushed to them, crying, “Sweetie Pie won’t get down, she’s flying around the room!”
“Don’t worry,” assured Sam, as Dean grabbed some rope.
Sweetie Pie was soaring through the air, knocking down bookshelves and just missing the flat screen TV.
Sam admired her room as Sweetie Pie soared over his head. Sam completely ignored her-he loved Betty's house. If only he could stay in it all day-not in a motel for one night and on the road all the time.
Dean returned with the rope, and tied a knot in it. He swung it like a lasso, and told Sam, “Help me get her still!”
Sam pounced onto the leather couch, and jumped up, just missing Sweetie's stubby tail.
“So close!” shouted Dean.
Betty watched with amazement, and tried to help by saying, “Come here, Sweetie!”
Sweetie Pie stopped for a moment, just enough time for Dean to lasso her down. She struggled, but since she was so fat, she gave up after one minute of exhaustion.
Sam made a circle with a star in the middle, and let Sweetie Pie into it. She could not go anywhere-except soar around in that tiny airspace.
Sam explained to Betty how Sweetie Pie might be possessed-but they do not know.
Dean agreed, and asked Betty if he could grab an icicle pop.
Betty agreed-even though that was her FAVORITE food…
Dean grabbed one, and suddenly, Sweetie Pie’s eyes converted from deep black to pretty brown, and she fell to the floor.
Her stub wagged; her tongue fell out with hunger.
Sam laughed and said, “She was just hungry!”
“Let’s hope so,” laughed Betty.
Dean cracked off half of it and fed it to Sweetie Pie.
She was now able to walk across the line-and sprawl herself on the sofa.
“Well, all’s well that ends well,” laughed Sam, as Dean snuck a few icicle pops into his coat as they got into the Impala and sped down the road.
THE END
Proud aunt's note: Sweetie Pie is my cockapoo. She is soft, vanilla cream with apricot ears and a stubby tail, and yes, she's a bit... plump around the middle. The icicle pops she writes about are my favorite (and Sweetie's). Those cheap Flavor Ice pops, 200 to a box. And with summer coming, they can't come back to the supermarket shelves fast enough. I ran through my reserves in January.