DEW: It's Winning That Counts, Not How You Play the Game
Title: It's Winning That Counts, Not How You Play the Game
Author: theymp
Genre: Humour
Characters: Dick Roman
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 300
Warning/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
Summary: Roman knows he's never going to defeat the Winchesters by committee.
A/N: I had this head canon that there was just a single Leviathan, but that it's so vast that it can only exist in our reality as multiple individuals. For me, this is why killing Dick Roman -- "the head" -- appeared to kill the rest of them. Also, I can't seem to stick to just 100 words; sorry (not sorry!) about that.
"Pride, envy, avarice - these are the sparks have set on fire the hearts of all men" - 'The Divine Comedy', Dante Alighieri
The problem with being the leader of a multiple manifestation of a single entity was that all the good aspects tended to aggregate into a single personification. Namely me, thought Dick Roman.
And all the crap tends to clump together in all the others, he sighed to himself as he glared at the spineless toadies otherwise known as the executive board.
Sometimes he wished he could get rid of the whole lot of them. Unfortunately, 'bibbing' the less desirables might remove unwanted traits, but doing it to too many of his own kind wasn't good practice, it just made the greater whole weaker.
Still, patience. Even he had his weaker moments; namely letting the Winchesters live because he'd enjoyed toying with them. Maybe it was boredom. It was just too easy how most humans not only flocked to eat the poison he was peddling; they actually paid handsomely for the privilege.
It was almost enough to make him wish he was a vampire, and wasn't that an indicator of the poor position they were in given he otherwise considered them sub-human pond scum. Still, there was something intriguing about the thought of giving a little bite (Ha! Isn't it laughable that they'd consider a mere nip -- that didn't even remove a minor limb -- a 'bite') to turn an enemy into a more powerful ally.
"Those Winchesters are powerful enemies," nodded the head of security sagely, who must surely realize he was next in line for disposal if he didn't deliver.
"It's not if you win or lose but how you play the game," said the marketing director, one of the few remaining human execs. "The public will soon see through their brand of eco-terrorism."
I hate platitudes; what a loser, thought Roman savagely. I'll be sure to eat him next.
(;,;)
Author: theymp
Genre: Humour
Characters: Dick Roman
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 300
Warning/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
Summary: Roman knows he's never going to defeat the Winchesters by committee.
A/N: I had this head canon that there was just a single Leviathan, but that it's so vast that it can only exist in our reality as multiple individuals. For me, this is why killing Dick Roman -- "the head" -- appeared to kill the rest of them. Also, I can't seem to stick to just 100 words; sorry (not sorry!) about that.
"Pride, envy, avarice - these are the sparks have set on fire the hearts of all men" - 'The Divine Comedy', Dante Alighieri
The problem with being the leader of a multiple manifestation of a single entity was that all the good aspects tended to aggregate into a single personification. Namely me, thought Dick Roman.
And all the crap tends to clump together in all the others, he sighed to himself as he glared at the spineless toadies otherwise known as the executive board.
Sometimes he wished he could get rid of the whole lot of them. Unfortunately, 'bibbing' the less desirables might remove unwanted traits, but doing it to too many of his own kind wasn't good practice, it just made the greater whole weaker.
Still, patience. Even he had his weaker moments; namely letting the Winchesters live because he'd enjoyed toying with them. Maybe it was boredom. It was just too easy how most humans not only flocked to eat the poison he was peddling; they actually paid handsomely for the privilege.
It was almost enough to make him wish he was a vampire, and wasn't that an indicator of the poor position they were in given he otherwise considered them sub-human pond scum. Still, there was something intriguing about the thought of giving a little bite (Ha! Isn't it laughable that they'd consider a mere nip -- that didn't even remove a minor limb -- a 'bite') to turn an enemy into a more powerful ally.
"Those Winchesters are powerful enemies," nodded the head of security sagely, who must surely realize he was next in line for disposal if he didn't deliver.
"It's not if you win or lose but how you play the game," said the marketing director, one of the few remaining human execs. "The public will soon see through their brand of eco-terrorism."
I hate platitudes; what a loser, thought Roman savagely. I'll be sure to eat him next.
(;,;)