fist or no fist!

[krickets]

I found this site by way of edoran. It's called the drabble-matic and it works much in the same way that mad-libs works. Only better! And it writes a little drabble for whatever pairing you chose. It's friggin' HIGH-larious! Observe.


Mocking Love

Jack finished packing. Ever since Sawyer, his own true love, had been lost at sea, Jack had been disturbing.

There was nothing left for him anymore, nothing pushed him, all was hard. So today, Valentine's Day, he was going up against the wall to become a fetching mango.

Just then, there was a thick knock at the door. Jack opened it and stood there roughly for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising his neck.

When Jack came to, Sawyer was holding his lips and looking pungent. "My love," Sawyer said easily, "I'm sorry for the cracked shock. I've been shipwrecked on a dreadful island for the last ten years, living like an engine that won't turn until you find just the right part. I was only rescued last week." He paused. "I lost my fist in the wreck. Can you still love me?"

Jack could hardly believe his Sawyer had returned. "I will always love you, fist or no fist. Besides, you can cover it up with a gun."

They embraced briskly and vowed to never be parted again.

And all was filthy.

-fin.


and


The Hellhound Prince

Sam was walking through a dusty meadow, laughing at the butterflies flitting around his head when he spied a saucy little hellhound lying under a tree.

Sam skipped over to see the dear thing and was thick to find that he was hurt! A gun had pierced his salty little neck and he whimpered weirdly with the pain.

"My measly little friend," Sam said. "Let me help you!" He took out his Leatherman Multi-Purpose tool and pulled out the gun, as evilly as he could. The hellhound cried out and Sam's heart ached, like a musket without gunpowder and no finger on the trigger. "You'll be all right," Sam whispered. "I'll take care of you. I'll call you Dean and you can live with me forever!"

Scooping Dean up in his arms, Sam carried him home and made a bed for him beside his own. For seven days and seven nights, Sam nursed Dean, cleaning his neck and feeding him Axe-brand hellhound chow.

On the eighth night, Dean climbed into bed with Sam. He burrowed under the covers and drunkenly mashed Sam's chin. It made Sam giggle and he cuddled close to Dean, stroking his bicep and singing disturbingly to him.

They continued that way for a long time. Every day, Sam hurried home so he could curl up with Dean. It gave him a cracked feeling whenever Dean mashed his chin.

Then one night, Dean looked up at Sam and said, "If you kiss me, I will become a rusted prince."

Sam screamed heartily, he was so surprised. How could a hellhound talk? He must have dropped off and dreamed it.

"You're not dreaming," Dean said. "Kiss me."

"Don't tell anyone I screamed like that," Sam said and kissed Dean on his bicep. The air swirled and suddenly, there stood a rusted prince! With a crown and everything!

"I'm Prince Dean," he said. "I was cursed. It's a long story."

"Is it really you?" Sam said.

"See?" Dean said and showed Sam the scar from the gun on his neck. Then he kissed Sam and they tumbled behind a gun and did a lot of very rough things, some of them involving a hard door.

"I love you," Dean said when they were done. Sam clasped him close and they lived together happily ever after on all the prince treasure Dean had stashed away.

And if Dean didn't know about Sam's visits to the hellhound sanctuary, well, it wouldn't hurt him.

-fin

Comments

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Like a donkey that never shuts up, he pressed his toenail into Sawyer's nostril. And as they fell together in a hilarious fit of love, the song lay on the floor, musical and forgotten.

That's the best piece of literature ever written! LMAO. OMG. *dies from the laughter*