Demonic Doppelganger
Title: Demonic Doppelganger
Rating: G
Length: Drabble (248 words)
Pairings: None
Era: Season 05
Summary: Paris Hilton on a spontaneous killing spree?
Note: Written for a challenge on spnland, in which you had to work Paris Hilton into the drabble in some way
~*~
The car tore down the highway, its speed clocking much higher than the posted limit. (And had there been any cops around running radar on that night, they may have found themselves having to deal with the occupants of said speeding car, if they decided to pull it over, that is.)
As it was, though, no cops were busy on this particular highway, so the car continued on its way, the driver only partially paying attention to the road. (It was pretty deserted, after all.) Most of his focus was on what his brother was saying.
“That’s what it says, Dean.”
“And the cops are buying it?”
Sam shuffled the papers around, searching for the latest murder report. “Uh … yeah. Says here that there were several witnesses that said it was definitely her. No doubt about it.”
Dean was silent for a moment. “Huh. Who would’ve thought Paris Hilton would be the kinda girl to go on some kind of spontaneous killing spree?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Kinda hot, in a psychotic-kinda way, you know?” he said, smirking at Sam.
Scoffing, Sam just turned away and looked out of the passenger window. Only Dean, he thought.
That was when the car slowly started to sputter to a crawl … before it died completely.
“Or,” muttered Sam. “It’s not really her.”
Dean followed Sam’s gaze to see Paris Hilton - or a demonic doppelganger of the blonde heiress - smirking at them from just a few feet away.
“Hello, boys.”
~*~
And that's SPN drabble number two. I've only got a bit more.
~Megan
Rating: G
Length: Drabble (248 words)
Pairings: None
Era: Season 05
Summary: Paris Hilton on a spontaneous killing spree?
Note: Written for a challenge on spnland, in which you had to work Paris Hilton into the drabble in some way
~*~
The car tore down the highway, its speed clocking much higher than the posted limit. (And had there been any cops around running radar on that night, they may have found themselves having to deal with the occupants of said speeding car, if they decided to pull it over, that is.)
As it was, though, no cops were busy on this particular highway, so the car continued on its way, the driver only partially paying attention to the road. (It was pretty deserted, after all.) Most of his focus was on what his brother was saying.
“That’s what it says, Dean.”
“And the cops are buying it?”
Sam shuffled the papers around, searching for the latest murder report. “Uh … yeah. Says here that there were several witnesses that said it was definitely her. No doubt about it.”
Dean was silent for a moment. “Huh. Who would’ve thought Paris Hilton would be the kinda girl to go on some kind of spontaneous killing spree?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Kinda hot, in a psychotic-kinda way, you know?” he said, smirking at Sam.
Scoffing, Sam just turned away and looked out of the passenger window. Only Dean, he thought.
That was when the car slowly started to sputter to a crawl … before it died completely.
“Or,” muttered Sam. “It’s not really her.”
Dean followed Sam’s gaze to see Paris Hilton - or a demonic doppelganger of the blonde heiress - smirking at them from just a few feet away.
“Hello, boys.”
~*~
And that's SPN drabble number two. I've only got a bit more.
~Megan