Verto Ut Bestia
I don't know if you'd noticed, but this year's Big Bangs came with some false advertising. You don't know what I mean? Well, one claimed there'd be monkey!Chad and then THERE WASN'T, and the other came bearing goat!Chad except that IT DIDN'T.
That, my friends, had upset my dear maichan808 . Well excuse me, but I can't have that. Therefore, for her, here's goat!Chad.
Title: Verto Ut Bestia
Genre: Crack (possibly only funny to me)
Pairing: A hint of Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Nudity and, well, Chad. Also, nude Chad. And it's unbeta'd, which means I'm subjecting you to my raw writing. Sorry about that.
Disclaimer: None of this is true. Nor is it my fault.
“…verto ut bestia!” A dark haired man finishes dramatically with hands raised above his head. Then he turns to the fair haired one. “There. Happy now?”
“Will we be the prettiest ones now? Forever and ever, in the whole wide world, and especially all of networks?” the blonde asks.
“Well…” The darker guy avoids eye contact.
“You said…” the blonde says in a remarkable impression of a pissed off five year old.
“Yes, yes,” the other guy says with a sigh. “Sure we will.”
The blonde guy smiles blissfully, showing a row of pearly white, yet crooked teeth.
~~~
The doorbell rings just as Jensen’s starting to doze off to the sounds of “Merlin” that Jared seems to be following religiously. Why is that, Jensen will never know. All right, he’ll admit that the king ain’t half bad and the blonde dude, what’s-his-face, rocks the gluteal department, but the teeth? Yeah, no.
So anyway, he was just dozing off when the doorbell rang so he hits Jared with his foot and says, “Would you get that?” in the nicest way possible. Which is to say, not nicely at all when he’s half asleep. Jared gets up muttering something about assholes - and just for the record, if he keeps the attitude, Jensen ain’t going near that thing any time soon; also, why does he mention sex when someone’s just about to join them? Oh wait… A pretty enticing mental image starts forming in Jensen’s brain when he hears Jared calling him from the hall way with a note of panic in his voice.
“Jensen! Jensen, could you, please, come? There’s a…” There’s a pause and Jensen’s already scrambling up to his feet when Jared continues somewhat hysterically. “There’s a goat at the door, Jensen. And it’s… Jensen, it’s looking at me!”
Jensen’s pretty sure he’s hearing it wrong, but when he reaches the door there’s no two ways about it - there’s a goat all right and yes, it is looking at Jared. Squinting at him, really. Do goats squint? Well, this one does. And then the goat says, “Would you let me in, fuckers?”
Woah, hold it right there! The goat squints and speaks? Clearly, Jensen is still on the couch, asleep, dreaming. Or at least that’s what he believes until Jared grabs his arm forcefully and it hurts! If it hurts, then you’re awake, right? Isn’t that, like, the ultimate test for differing the dream and reality?
“Dude,” Jared chokes out. “I think it’s Chad.”
“Jared”, Jensen says calmly, “Chad is not a goat. He’s an ass, true, but not a goat.”
“Your Mom’s an ass,” the goat says and makes its way past them into the living room. Jared and Jensen exchange glances - Jared’s looking mighty pale, Jensen notices - and follow the goat… uh, Chad into the room.
Chad is sitting in the armchair when they get there. No, really, he’s flat on his goat ass, front legs crossed one in front of the other, and his goatee (Jensen claps himself on the back mentally for that) is swaying slightly form side to side as if there’s a breeze in the room. The goat keeps squinting, too, which Jensen finds to be the most disturbing thing of all. And that’s saying something, given the situation.
“Chad,” Jared says uncertainly, “is that really you?”
“Who the fuck else would it be?” the goat growls, and seriously, the attitude! Uncalled for, surely.
“So what.. I mean, how… well, what… Chad, you’re a goat!” Jared manages finally.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” the goat says sarcastically - and sarcasm suits goats pretty well, Jensen has to admit, to his surprise. “Help me!”
The cry for help seem to get to Jared as he runs over to Chad and puts his giant arms around him. Which turns out to be an epically wrong thing to do when Jared stretches, then shrinks, then makes this highly unsettling popping sound. He grows hairier and hairier and the muscles shift underneath his skin and… Great. Jensen’s now sitting in the room with a goat and a yak. He feels like a punchline to a really bad joke.
“Chad!” he shrieks. “What the fuck did you do to my boy… best friend?!” Jensen moves toward Jared the Yak but freezes midstep. He takes a couple of steps back. “No offense, man,” he says, “but I don’t wanna catch the… the…” He waves his hand about. “Whatever that is.”
“I kinda wanna see what you’d be,” Jared muses out loud. Jensen scowls at him.
“A goldendoodle,” Chad the Goat says without missing a beat.
Jensen thinks about strangling Chad to death for a long second - and that just might be the only familiar emotion he’s had since this whole zoological nightmare began - when there’s knocking at the door.
“You two stay here,” he points his index finger at them in what he hopes is a threatening enough manner, “and don’t make a sound.” Chad lifts his leg up in the air, then frowns and puts it back down.
“Dude,” Jensen snorts. “Did you just try to flip me off?”
“Shut up,” Chad mutters. Jared tumbles over in an attempt to silence the laughter that’s shuddering through his huge yak body. He falls down with a loud thud. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispers to Jensen’s back as he goes to answer the door.
An orangutan with a vulture on his shoulder and a bottle of tequila in his hand absolutely don’t come as a surprise to him. He takes a moment to absorb the scene he’s facing, then says with absolute calm, “May I help you?”
The orangutan stares at him with big blue eyes. The vulture speaks up, “You’re human!”
“That’s exactly the odd thing here,” Jensen says rolling his eyes. He’s getting a headache and he’s getting it fast. “Not the goat and the yak sitting in my living room, nor the orangutan and the vulture at my doorstep, all of whom, might I stress, speak English because, hey, they’ve been people not so long ago, until they’ve been infected with this… this…” He waves his hand again futilely. “Whatever this is. No, the weird part is me being human.” He rubs his face. “Who are you anyway?”
“It’s us, man, Mike and Tom,” the vulture says sounding a little offended. “Let us in, we’ve got booze.” The orangutan - Tom, apparently - raises the bottle in question as proof.
“Not that I think alcohol is the answer,” Jensen says as he moves aside, “but come on in. The petting zoo is straight through there.”
Mike the Vulture pecks him on the head as they walk by him. “Your Mom’s a petting zoo.”
“What is with you, beasts, and the ur mom jokes?” Jensen protests but follows the big monkey into the living room. When he thinks about it, tequila doesn’t sound half bad. Unless it’s with worms. He doesn’t want to accidentally drink Danneel or Allie up.
“Hey, Tom,” Chad says as the newest addition to their menagerie enters the room.. “Nice bird you’ve got there.”
For the first time Tom speaks sounding astonished, “You knew it was me?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Chad frowns his goatly features.
“Uh… because I’m an orangutan?”
“Holy shit!” Chad exclaims. “So you are!” He gives it another look. “Eh, I always thought there was some monkey-like quality to you.”
Tom flips him off. Because he can.
“Less yapping, more drinking!” Mike demands and Tom dutifully uncaps the bottle and hands it to him. Well, tries to, anyway. Wings don’t exactly come with opposable thumbs. He pours some into the aforementioned cap, places it on the coffee table and Mike gets down to pecking in earnest. Some tequila is poured into a bowl so Jared and Chad can lap it up. Their horns clash every single time they bend down to it. The sound is not helping Jensen’s headache any.
“Guys… ungulates, how about taking turns?” he says exasperatedly and pours himself a shot. When in Rome… or whatever. He’s not drunk enough for this. He’s especially not drunk enough for a shift he can suddenly feel inside of his body. He’s… yep, he’s definitely shrinking. With the exception of his hair that is growing. He runs to the nearest mirror. Well, he’s still human. The burning question is, why is he a female, underaged human with flaming red braids, wearing a patchwork dress and two different stockings?
He watches in the mirror as Jared gaits up to him, blows away his yak bangs - little things, he’s holding on to these little familiar things for dear life - and matter of factly states, “You’re Pippi Longstocking.”
The vulture giggles, the goat stomps his feet, and the monkey snickers in the living room. God, Jensen hopes Tom doesn’t try to climb onto his shoulder.
Half an hour later he’s definitely drunk enough to say, “I wanna ride you, Jared.” And twirls his finger around one of his braids.
Jared smirks - and how does he do that being a yak and all, Jensen will never know. “Of course you do.”
“Eww,” Chad makes a disgusted face and that’s really rich coming from him, seeing how Tom is currently plucking out his fleas. And eating them. Mike’s passed out on the floor, wings spread wide. Snoring. Jensen envies him.
And that’s the last clear thought he remembers having when he wakes up next morning.
Mike’s still on the floor, still snoring, but human again. He’s also stark naked, showing definitely more than Jensen ever wanted to see. Before realising what an epically bad idea it is, he cranes his neck and sees Chad sprawled across the chair, naked as they come, with Tom’s head in his lap. Needles to say, Tom’s also, you got it, butt naked.
“Ow, my eyes!” he yelps and it’s enough to wake the party up. Jared stretches on the couch and scratches his substantially less hairy belly, smacking his lips.
“‘Morning,” he says.
Chad jumps up from his position and yes, that’s definitely more swinging that Jensen ever needed engraved into his brain, and pumps his fist. Then checks his, um, package. He closes his eyes and sighs in visible relief. All there.
“Everyone back to normal? Jensen asks.
“Except for Tom,” Chad says.
“What?” Tom squeeks, checks himself over, and glares at Chad. “I’m human, you jerk.”
“Oh,” Chad said nonchalantly. “My bad.”
Mike wakes up just in time to prevent Tom from throwing himself on Chad.
They agree never to speak of this again. Ever. But not before Jensen wonders out loud, “How come I wasn’t an animal?”
“I guess it only affects men by turning them into their inner beasts,” Chad says, cupping himself fondly for emphasis.
“Oh yeah? And what am I?” Jensen asks glaring.
“You, Ackles,” Chad smirks, “are a pretty, pretty princess.”
~~~
“Bloody hell!” The blonde guy yells, and the dark haired one raises his head.
“Hm?” he hums.
The blond guy reads aloud, “The hunks of Supernatural, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, were spotted yesterday afternoon leaving one of Vancouver’s videostores. ‘We have a weekend off’, Padalecki said, ’so we’re gonna kick back, watch some movies, maybe have a few friends over… You know, recharge our batteries a little.’ For the more curious ones, he was carrying Ace Ventura 1 and 2 and Doctor Dollittle in his hand.” He shuts his laptop angrily. “They’re still them! It didn’t work!”
“There, there,” the darker guy pets his golden locks. “You know I’m not a real sorcerer, don’t you? Did you really expect a curse I found googling to work?”
“Maybe,” the blonde mumbles.
“Oh, honey! I suppose you’ll just have to make your peace with being the most dashing prince in Britain, if not in the whole world.”
“Am I at least prettier than William?” the blonde pouts.
“Of course you are, Brad, of course you are.”
END.
That, my friends, had upset my dear maichan808 . Well excuse me, but I can't have that. Therefore, for her, here's goat!Chad.
Title: Verto Ut Bestia
Genre: Crack (possibly only funny to me)
Pairing: A hint of Jared/Jensen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Nudity and, well, Chad. Also, nude Chad. And it's unbeta'd, which means I'm subjecting you to my raw writing. Sorry about that.
Disclaimer: None of this is true. Nor is it my fault.
“…verto ut bestia!” A dark haired man finishes dramatically with hands raised above his head. Then he turns to the fair haired one. “There. Happy now?”
“Will we be the prettiest ones now? Forever and ever, in the whole wide world, and especially all of networks?” the blonde asks.
“Well…” The darker guy avoids eye contact.
“You said…” the blonde says in a remarkable impression of a pissed off five year old.
“Yes, yes,” the other guy says with a sigh. “Sure we will.”
The blonde guy smiles blissfully, showing a row of pearly white, yet crooked teeth.
~~~
The doorbell rings just as Jensen’s starting to doze off to the sounds of “Merlin” that Jared seems to be following religiously. Why is that, Jensen will never know. All right, he’ll admit that the king ain’t half bad and the blonde dude, what’s-his-face, rocks the gluteal department, but the teeth? Yeah, no.
So anyway, he was just dozing off when the doorbell rang so he hits Jared with his foot and says, “Would you get that?” in the nicest way possible. Which is to say, not nicely at all when he’s half asleep. Jared gets up muttering something about assholes - and just for the record, if he keeps the attitude, Jensen ain’t going near that thing any time soon; also, why does he mention sex when someone’s just about to join them? Oh wait… A pretty enticing mental image starts forming in Jensen’s brain when he hears Jared calling him from the hall way with a note of panic in his voice.
“Jensen! Jensen, could you, please, come? There’s a…” There’s a pause and Jensen’s already scrambling up to his feet when Jared continues somewhat hysterically. “There’s a goat at the door, Jensen. And it’s… Jensen, it’s looking at me!”
Jensen’s pretty sure he’s hearing it wrong, but when he reaches the door there’s no two ways about it - there’s a goat all right and yes, it is looking at Jared. Squinting at him, really. Do goats squint? Well, this one does. And then the goat says, “Would you let me in, fuckers?”
Woah, hold it right there! The goat squints and speaks? Clearly, Jensen is still on the couch, asleep, dreaming. Or at least that’s what he believes until Jared grabs his arm forcefully and it hurts! If it hurts, then you’re awake, right? Isn’t that, like, the ultimate test for differing the dream and reality?
“Dude,” Jared chokes out. “I think it’s Chad.”
“Jared”, Jensen says calmly, “Chad is not a goat. He’s an ass, true, but not a goat.”
“Your Mom’s an ass,” the goat says and makes its way past them into the living room. Jared and Jensen exchange glances - Jared’s looking mighty pale, Jensen notices - and follow the goat… uh, Chad into the room.
Chad is sitting in the armchair when they get there. No, really, he’s flat on his goat ass, front legs crossed one in front of the other, and his goatee (Jensen claps himself on the back mentally for that) is swaying slightly form side to side as if there’s a breeze in the room. The goat keeps squinting, too, which Jensen finds to be the most disturbing thing of all. And that’s saying something, given the situation.
“Chad,” Jared says uncertainly, “is that really you?”
“Who the fuck else would it be?” the goat growls, and seriously, the attitude! Uncalled for, surely.
“So what.. I mean, how… well, what… Chad, you’re a goat!” Jared manages finally.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” the goat says sarcastically - and sarcasm suits goats pretty well, Jensen has to admit, to his surprise. “Help me!”
The cry for help seem to get to Jared as he runs over to Chad and puts his giant arms around him. Which turns out to be an epically wrong thing to do when Jared stretches, then shrinks, then makes this highly unsettling popping sound. He grows hairier and hairier and the muscles shift underneath his skin and… Great. Jensen’s now sitting in the room with a goat and a yak. He feels like a punchline to a really bad joke.
“Chad!” he shrieks. “What the fuck did you do to my boy… best friend?!” Jensen moves toward Jared the Yak but freezes midstep. He takes a couple of steps back. “No offense, man,” he says, “but I don’t wanna catch the… the…” He waves his hand about. “Whatever that is.”
“I kinda wanna see what you’d be,” Jared muses out loud. Jensen scowls at him.
“A goldendoodle,” Chad the Goat says without missing a beat.
Jensen thinks about strangling Chad to death for a long second - and that just might be the only familiar emotion he’s had since this whole zoological nightmare began - when there’s knocking at the door.
“You two stay here,” he points his index finger at them in what he hopes is a threatening enough manner, “and don’t make a sound.” Chad lifts his leg up in the air, then frowns and puts it back down.
“Dude,” Jensen snorts. “Did you just try to flip me off?”
“Shut up,” Chad mutters. Jared tumbles over in an attempt to silence the laughter that’s shuddering through his huge yak body. He falls down with a loud thud. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispers to Jensen’s back as he goes to answer the door.
An orangutan with a vulture on his shoulder and a bottle of tequila in his hand absolutely don’t come as a surprise to him. He takes a moment to absorb the scene he’s facing, then says with absolute calm, “May I help you?”
The orangutan stares at him with big blue eyes. The vulture speaks up, “You’re human!”
“That’s exactly the odd thing here,” Jensen says rolling his eyes. He’s getting a headache and he’s getting it fast. “Not the goat and the yak sitting in my living room, nor the orangutan and the vulture at my doorstep, all of whom, might I stress, speak English because, hey, they’ve been people not so long ago, until they’ve been infected with this… this…” He waves his hand again futilely. “Whatever this is. No, the weird part is me being human.” He rubs his face. “Who are you anyway?”
“It’s us, man, Mike and Tom,” the vulture says sounding a little offended. “Let us in, we’ve got booze.” The orangutan - Tom, apparently - raises the bottle in question as proof.
“Not that I think alcohol is the answer,” Jensen says as he moves aside, “but come on in. The petting zoo is straight through there.”
Mike the Vulture pecks him on the head as they walk by him. “Your Mom’s a petting zoo.”
“What is with you, beasts, and the ur mom jokes?” Jensen protests but follows the big monkey into the living room. When he thinks about it, tequila doesn’t sound half bad. Unless it’s with worms. He doesn’t want to accidentally drink Danneel or Allie up.
“Hey, Tom,” Chad says as the newest addition to their menagerie enters the room.. “Nice bird you’ve got there.”
For the first time Tom speaks sounding astonished, “You knew it was me?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Chad frowns his goatly features.
“Uh… because I’m an orangutan?”
“Holy shit!” Chad exclaims. “So you are!” He gives it another look. “Eh, I always thought there was some monkey-like quality to you.”
Tom flips him off. Because he can.
“Less yapping, more drinking!” Mike demands and Tom dutifully uncaps the bottle and hands it to him. Well, tries to, anyway. Wings don’t exactly come with opposable thumbs. He pours some into the aforementioned cap, places it on the coffee table and Mike gets down to pecking in earnest. Some tequila is poured into a bowl so Jared and Chad can lap it up. Their horns clash every single time they bend down to it. The sound is not helping Jensen’s headache any.
“Guys… ungulates, how about taking turns?” he says exasperatedly and pours himself a shot. When in Rome… or whatever. He’s not drunk enough for this. He’s especially not drunk enough for a shift he can suddenly feel inside of his body. He’s… yep, he’s definitely shrinking. With the exception of his hair that is growing. He runs to the nearest mirror. Well, he’s still human. The burning question is, why is he a female, underaged human with flaming red braids, wearing a patchwork dress and two different stockings?
He watches in the mirror as Jared gaits up to him, blows away his yak bangs - little things, he’s holding on to these little familiar things for dear life - and matter of factly states, “You’re Pippi Longstocking.”
The vulture giggles, the goat stomps his feet, and the monkey snickers in the living room. God, Jensen hopes Tom doesn’t try to climb onto his shoulder.
Half an hour later he’s definitely drunk enough to say, “I wanna ride you, Jared.” And twirls his finger around one of his braids.
Jared smirks - and how does he do that being a yak and all, Jensen will never know. “Of course you do.”
“Eww,” Chad makes a disgusted face and that’s really rich coming from him, seeing how Tom is currently plucking out his fleas. And eating them. Mike’s passed out on the floor, wings spread wide. Snoring. Jensen envies him.
And that’s the last clear thought he remembers having when he wakes up next morning.
Mike’s still on the floor, still snoring, but human again. He’s also stark naked, showing definitely more than Jensen ever wanted to see. Before realising what an epically bad idea it is, he cranes his neck and sees Chad sprawled across the chair, naked as they come, with Tom’s head in his lap. Needles to say, Tom’s also, you got it, butt naked.
“Ow, my eyes!” he yelps and it’s enough to wake the party up. Jared stretches on the couch and scratches his substantially less hairy belly, smacking his lips.
“‘Morning,” he says.
Chad jumps up from his position and yes, that’s definitely more swinging that Jensen ever needed engraved into his brain, and pumps his fist. Then checks his, um, package. He closes his eyes and sighs in visible relief. All there.
“Everyone back to normal? Jensen asks.
“Except for Tom,” Chad says.
“What?” Tom squeeks, checks himself over, and glares at Chad. “I’m human, you jerk.”
“Oh,” Chad said nonchalantly. “My bad.”
Mike wakes up just in time to prevent Tom from throwing himself on Chad.
They agree never to speak of this again. Ever. But not before Jensen wonders out loud, “How come I wasn’t an animal?”
“I guess it only affects men by turning them into their inner beasts,” Chad says, cupping himself fondly for emphasis.
“Oh yeah? And what am I?” Jensen asks glaring.
“You, Ackles,” Chad smirks, “are a pretty, pretty princess.”
~~~
“Bloody hell!” The blonde guy yells, and the dark haired one raises his head.
“Hm?” he hums.
The blond guy reads aloud, “The hunks of Supernatural, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, were spotted yesterday afternoon leaving one of Vancouver’s videostores. ‘We have a weekend off’, Padalecki said, ’so we’re gonna kick back, watch some movies, maybe have a few friends over… You know, recharge our batteries a little.’ For the more curious ones, he was carrying Ace Ventura 1 and 2 and Doctor Dollittle in his hand.” He shuts his laptop angrily. “They’re still them! It didn’t work!”
“There, there,” the darker guy pets his golden locks. “You know I’m not a real sorcerer, don’t you? Did you really expect a curse I found googling to work?”
“Maybe,” the blonde mumbles.
“Oh, honey! I suppose you’ll just have to make your peace with being the most dashing prince in Britain, if not in the whole world.”
“Am I at least prettier than William?” the blonde pouts.
“Of course you are, Brad, of course you are.”
END.