(Untitled)

[hopeitsworthit]

There are days that it really ain't worth getting out of bed. Dean's kinda hoping tomorrow isn't gonna be one of those days, because today was pretty shitty.

Goddamn crazy-ass shapeshifters turning into movie monsters is no one's idea of a good time

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[forgottenmotley]

Over there is a guy dressed in tattered motley sniggering madly.

[forgottenmotley]

"Not really," He flashes a toothy smile. "At least I never have to worry about being dressed like you."

[hopeitsworthit]

"That ain't all you don't have to worry about."

He could say something about the Fool's ridiculous getup, but it has really been a long day.

(And those lederhosen are indefensible. Try getting him to admit that, though.)

Instead, Dean knocks wearily against Bar's top.

"You mind spottin' me a beer, sweetheart? Think I'm gonna hit the road."

A guy can hope.

[forgottenmotley]

"There are very few things I have to worry about," the Fool says.

As currently Dean is one of his (how could he not, dressed like that?) he decides to be nice. Ish. "You do look like you're in the need of some luck though."

[hopeitsworthit]

Ownership is relative, really, especially since Dean is on a mission from God.

"Yeah, well. Shit happens."

Dean snags the beer that Bar offers, popping off the cap with his ring.

"You get used to it."

[forgottenmotley]

Perhaps ownership is less the right word and it's more purview. You can still belong to the Fool and be on a mission from God. One has nothing to do with the other.

However the Fool doesn't really like those who work for God.

"I could give you some luck."

[hopeitsworthit]

Over Dean's dead body. Nothing like that's ever done him any good, anyway.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go with 'thanks but no thanks'."

Nothing ever comes for free, and he's all out of shit to pay with.

Plus those bells are still all sorts of creepy.

"And on that note -- "

Exit Dean, stage left, hopefully not pursued by a bear.