Something small and grey is nosing along in the grass, biting off dandelions and tonguing them into a crude bouquet (and occasionally eating one). In time, it may shuffle to the porch and up the steps, pausing and dropping the bouquet onto the decking.
"Nice day," the small plush-looking donkey says, in a deep, gloomy voice.
He doesn't look up at first, still staring into the distance. "Yeah, nice day," he says, idly and darkly, and then turns his head to look at who he's talking to and actually jumps.
...that's Eeyore.
"What the-"
Things just got about twelve times weirder, like things weren't whacked out enough already.
"Huh?" Eeyore says, looking around, expecting to see something that startled the Sad-Looking Man. He hasn't quite gotten used to the fact that his presence Startles People.
...startles people, yes. Sam is startled. That's one word for it. "---you're Eeyore," he says, a little blankly, "And I'm either very drunk or things just got really strange. And even less explainable."
The little creature tilts his head, lifting his ears. "Was it something that I said? I'll let you alone, if you'd rather," Eeyore replies, getting up, and starting to collect his dandelions.
Which fall all over the decking in the process. "Oh bother," Eeyore mutters, starting to pick them up. Again.
"No, no, carry on," Sam says, and perhaps the sarcasm is missed. He's still staring, trying to work out what the hell whatever this place is made out of is on. Seriously, elves was one thing, dragons one thing. But a stuffed donkey from a kid's book?
"--trying to make a bouquet?" Come on, Sam. Be nice to the donkey.
"Gathering flowers for a pretty lady, to cheer her up," he says, pushing some of the dandelions together. "You can have some, if you like. I can always find more."
At least it's a harmless and even cuddly surreal experience. "No, sorry, haven't seen either of them," he says, pushing the dandelions together with one hoof. "A nice lady tried to help me find Christopher Robin. I even asked the magic cupboard in the kitchen, but he didn't come through it."
This is true. There are worse surreal experiences. "...do you want help with that?" Sam asks abruptly. It's almost painful to watch. And he can't believe this is actually...
Wonders if Dean will include this in his creeper notebook.
"I bet you have," Sam says, slightly under his breath, and with a sigh reaches out to pick up the flowers and put them together into a little bouquet. "Yeah, here. Just don't want to watch you struggle all day."
"Nice day," the small plush-looking donkey says, in a deep, gloomy voice.
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...that's Eeyore.
"What the-"
Things just got about twelve times weirder, like things weren't whacked out enough already.
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His laugh is bitter and just a little hysterical.
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Which fall all over the decking in the process. "Oh bother," Eeyore mutters, starting to pick them up. Again.
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"--trying to make a bouquet?" Come on, Sam. Be nice to the donkey.
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Happy birthday, Sam. Here, have a surreal experience. Ha.
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Wonders if Dean will include this in his creeper notebook.
"I see. Did the magical cupboard answer you?"
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"Wouldn't mind the help. Little hard to gather them with no hands. Hooves don't gather little things very well."
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This is by far the most ridiculous conversation he has ever had. Ever.
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