Luke's, Saturday

[6buckstohisname]

When Dean woke up this morning, he was disorientated and lost. Mostly shown by stumbling around and holding his head like he had a terrible headache. But that was not the case here

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[not_a_whiner]

A hooded figure in long robes appeared inside the diner, his head bowed.

He said nothing, even though the camera lingered on him for an inappropriately long time.

[6buckstohisname]

Well, the camera knew what the viewers liked. And they liked dat ass. Which somehow was highlighted even with the robes.

It was a gift of the costuming department.

Dean gave the mysterious figure a frightened look. Because that seemed like the appropriate response.

[not_a_whiner]

"Dean," the man said, employing the kind of voice reverb that was supposed to sound menacing.

[6buckstohisname]

It was very deep. And autotuned.

"Dean?" Dean said, looking around like he was in a crowd instead of alone. Got to overplay everything there. "Who's Dean?"

[fly_so_serious]

Jeffy Maroe, ex-star running back and recent paraplegic, sat in his wheelchair waiting to be shown to a table. "Hello?" he called. "Can I get some service? You're not avoiding me because of the wheelchair, are you? That's racism!"

[6buckstohisname]

Dean's corpse remained on the floor, looking tragic and perfect. Also still somehow bleeding from the head.

No one should question this. They should mourn his death, no doubt at the hands of the Skywalkers and those in their employment.

[fly_so_serious]

"Hello?" Jeffy called again. He began rolling through the diner, looking for people, but it was completely empty. Other than the cooks. They didn't count, because they were just extras.

"Hellooooooo? Is anyone... AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

He gasped in shock at the dead man on the floor. "Someone's dead in here! Call an ambulance!" He waved at the cooks. "Call 911!" Oh, sure, NOW they existed.

[6buckstohisname]

"Avenge... meeee..." Wow, that corpse had enough energy to say that.

[lovemykilt]

Ah yes, Dean's dramatic amnesia was all going according to Priestly's plan.

I mean, it probably wasn't originally written that way, but it was the perfect in for an evil twin plot, so we're using it, anyway.

Priestly watched as his twin fussed about from the secrecy of a convenient and dramatically dark booth in the far corner of the restaurant. Occasionally, he indulged himself in a soft, maniacal laugh.

It was all according to Priestly's (entirely unintelligible and most likely non-existent) master plan.

[6buckstohisname]

There was a corpse rattle from Dean. Which, turns out, less dead than thought. But still pretty dead.

Really.

Maybe if someone was to get him lifesaving treatment from the Netherlands...

[lovemykilt]

Hey, Priestly was the evil twin, here. Evil. You could tell by the facial hair. Evil twins didn't do livesaving treatments from the Netherlands.

They might, potentially, do some evil necromantic type lifesaving treatments. But the key here was that it had to be evil.

[6buckstohisname]

...well, an evil Winchester Zombie would allow him to take control of a few diamond mines.

Not all, but. You know.

"Ahhhhh." We get it, Dean. You're a half dead corpse. Now you're just playing it up.