Fallen Angels

At a local Taxidermy shop, a man was working on his latest project, while listening to the game on the radio, his dog by his side.

"Easy Colonel."

Just then there's a crashing sound, like metal, Colonel growls and barks, the man taking a shotgun and going to check out what had made the noise.

"Is anyone here?" He asks as he searches the dark room, ending up scaring himself with the bear that he stuffed.

"Gets me every time." He says as he leaves the room, Colonel barking like crazy.

"What's the matter boy? It's me."

He then turns around to see a man in a cowboy hat and he knocks the gun out of his hands. He sticks his tongue out and it's forked like a snake's.

"What the hell?"

Then the man ends up choking the guy to death, the dog watching everything, the spine ending up split in two. With us however, Sam and I were in the main area of the bunker, Dean coming out of where the bedrooms are.

"Wow."

"What?"

"Kevin. Just poured some buffalo milk down his gob twice."

"Buffalo milk?"

"Yeah, the hangover cure-all."

"Ohhh." I nod.

"It's got everything in it. Except buffalo milk."

"How is that kid still recovering from Branson?"

"What can I say? He's an an amateur. The slippery nipple shots at the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede nearly killed the guy."

"Okay then."

"Well I got something that's gonna get us back on the road."

"A case?"

"Yeah."

"You sure you're ready for that?"

"Why would I not be ready for that?"

"Aren't you kind of running on empty?

"Yeah, but the last three nights straight, I had eight hours of shut eye. For a hunter, that's like 20. Trust me Dean, I feel good."

"Well that's great and all James Brown, but you're still recovering from the trials. I think you ought to pace yourself you know? And the sooner you heal..." Dean trails off.

"Yeah?"

"I just want you back to your old self."

"We both want you back to your old self."

"I am. Look, Kevin's back on the Heaven spell, Crowley's locked up, we should be out there doing what we do best."

"Well..."

"You want to listen at least? Okay great. Taxidermist named Max Alexander mysteriously crushed to death. Nearly every joint in his body dislocated, every bone broken, poor guy is a human pretzel."

"That's....lovely." I make a face.

"You tell me what's got that kind of strength."

"A demonic luchador?"

"Let's be serious here for a moment Dean, yeah?"

"Shop's a couple hours away in Enid, Oklahoma. We should at least check it out. Unless there's some reason you think we shouldn't."

"That's what I thought." I remark after a few moments of silence, before getting up and heading into the bedroom to change into the usual FBI attire.

We pack what we need, before heading out on the road, heading the couple hours away to the shop. When we get there, we see something on the front of the shop.

"Subtle." Dean states when we see 'scum' in graffiti on the shop's windows, after approaching it.

"Pretty harsh." I add.

"Check that out." Sam points to a symbol drawn into the blood.

"Huh."

Sam takes his phone out and takes a picture of it before we head in.

"Well, the creep factor just skyrocketed."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." A local police officer turns and spots us.

"How are you? Agents Michaels, DeVille and Thorn." Sam states as we hold our badges up.

"The body's already been to the morgue. Just wrapping it up with Dave Stephens. He's the one who discovered the body. Such a shame. I used to go hunting with Max. He was a real good egg."

"We're sorry for your loss." I nod.

"Thanks."

"You mind showing my partners around? I just got a couple of questions for Mr. Stephens."

"Okay, come on."

"Dave Stephens?"

"Yeah."

"I just got a couple questions for you if that's alright."

"I'll tell you whatever you need to know. Max was a...a real pal."

"Hunting buddy?"

"Mm. Yeah."

"Lucky guess. So uh, about what time did you discover the body?"

"About 9am...my usual pickup time. I come in every Wednesdays and Sundays to collect the entrails."

"The what?"

"The animal organs."

"Ah."

"After Max would uh..dig them out and work his magic."

"Huh."

"He uh...he was a real artist you know? Strange thing is though, uh...bins were empty this morning."

"Why is that strange?"

"Well because it's a Sunday. Weekend hunts are pretty much a given in this neck of the woods. So they're usually, mm, chock full of guts."

"Ah. Any chance Max could have cleaned them out himself?"

"No. It's a...it's a bio hazard. You can't just...you know, throw the stuff out. You got to burn it."

"Huh. Is there uh...anything else missing from the shop?"

"No. the register was full, and the safe was intact. And all of Max's trophies were still on the walls." The sheriff explains.

"Was there anybody else here when you showed up?"

"No one. Oh, other than uh...the Colonel." Dave refers the the dog that's being loaded into a crate.

"Hmm. Excuse us." Dean says as Sam and I come back.

"So?"

"Okay so uh...we got a thief who's jonesing for animal parts, we got a pagan symbol, and we got a human pretzel."

"Animal parts? Ew."

"Yeah, it all sounds very witch-y. But we weren't able to find a hex bag."

"Not a single one."

"Alright, well let's keep digging. But uh, not here. I don't like the way that one's looking at me." Dean says about the owl.

He leaves fairly quickly and we follow. When we get back into the car, we head off on the road to mind a motel to stay the night in. Once we find one, we check in and get a room, getting settled. Sam however goes right to figuring out what the pagan symbol means.

"Okay uh, that symbol in the graffiti, it's...not wiccan. It's copy written. Local animal rights group, Enid's answer to PETA."

"S.N.A.R.T.? You got to be kidding me."

"Well it makes sense that an animal rights group would have an axe to grind with a taxidermist."

"Why? The animal's already dead."

"That's why...duh."

"Exactly. Hunters are what keeps them in business. Now the question is, are those bleeding hearts actually witches or just hippies?"

"What's the difference?"

Oh my god.

"Well since the symbol wasn't wiccan, I don't think there's witches involved. So, next thing...hippies. I looked into local vegan shops and I found one. Gentle Earth Vegan Bakery. Run by two people, Olivia and Dylan Camrose. Also supporters of S.N.A.R.T."

"It's a lead, it's worth a shot." I nod.

"Man, after we just got settled in."

"You'll live." I state, putting my jacket back on, and then we head out to that vegan bakery.

"Always knew I'd find the source of all evil at a vegan bakery."

"What's that smell?"

"Patchouli. Yeah, mixed with depression from meat deprivation. Hey. You know who wears sunglasses inside? Blind people. And douchebags." Dean states as he spots two people working, wearing sunglasses.

"Really? I don't get you sometimes." I shake my head.

"Olivia and Dylan Camrose?"

"At your service."

"You are two members of S.N.A.R.T.?"

"Founders and co-presidents actually. Uh, can we interest you in some literature?"

"No thank you." I kindly decline.

"Or a flaxseed scone? It's wheat free, gluten free, sugar free, and surprisingly moist."

"Let me stop you right there. Uh, we're here to investigate the death of Max Alexander. A local taxidermist."

"He's...dead?"

"You knew him?"

"Ish. Um...small town."

"Well, he was murdered last night, and a S.N.A.R.T. logo was found at the crime scene. You two wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

The looks on their faces told it all, they did know something about the logo at the crime scene. So they take a break, and we sit down with them so they can tell us everything.

"His business is funded by hunters, and you know how hunters are. They're selfish dicks who define themselves by what they kill."

"And as animal advocates, we couldn't stand for that."

"So you killed him?"

"Of course not. S.N.A.R.T. doesn't tolerate violence."

"Really? And this is coming from two people who spray paint death threats." I remark.

"It was a scare tactic. We just wanted to spook him."

"Turns out we were the ones who got spooked."

"What does that mean?"

"Well last night, when we were tagging the joint, we heard this nose."

"A hissing noise."

"It freaked us out, so we ran out into the alley."

"But someone attacked us."

"Sprayed us in the eyes with mace."

"And it's not like we could go to the cops."

"So now we look like total douchebags. Because we have to wear our sunglasses inside." Olivia states, before they take off their sunglasses so we can see what happened to their eyes from the mace last night.

We kind of motion for them to put their glasses back on, and we thank them for their time before heading back to the motel, where we go right to research on what could have caused the look of their eyes and around them.

"Found something." I state, and Sam comes right over and looks at what I found.

"What is it?"

"Necrosis."

"Necrosis?"

"Premature death of tissues. That's why their eyes were all messed up. And it's not caused by mace."

"Alright, what caused it?"

"Right here. Blunt force, radiation, venom."

"Venom?"

"As in 'snake'?"

"Well the taxidermist was constricted. Olivia and Dylan heard hissing, and they were sprayed in the eyes."

"By venom."

"By venom."

"Okay so what are we talking here? Some sort of a freaky ass snake monster?"

"Maybe. The weird thing is, snakes either envenomate or constrict. No snake does both."

"Correction. Freaky ass, mega snake monster."

"It could be a Vetala."

"Yeah, but they're not afraid to sink their fangs in. Taxidermist was bite free. It doesn't really fit the profile."

"Right. So..."

"So, call Kevin. Have him look some stuff up."

Meanwhile at the animal shelter, the guy with the cowboy hat walks in and up to the front desk.

"Aren't you early dude?"

The guy just stares and slips the guy $100, before going to the animal cages. He goes over to the cat cages and starts to load up a sack with them. The guy in the front hears the dogs and cats, but thinks nothing of it...until things get crazy and he sees the guy in the cowboy hat eat one of the cats.

"Dude! You said you were from a perfume company."

When the cowboy hate guy looks up, he has cat eyes and his nails turn to claws and he kills the guy who came in. We of course heard about it the next day and set out to see what happened.

"Claw marks."

"Yeah. The cops said all the cats went missing."

"Right. So yesterday, we're dealing with some sort of a snake monster. Today it's killer kitty."

"I don't know."

"Hey. Why does that mutt look familiar?" Dean asks, making us stop by one of the cages.

"That was the taxidermist's dog."

"So he's been at both crime scenes?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe he's a suspect. You know may.." Dean stops when an officer walks by.

"..could be a skinwalker, maybe a shapeshifter."

"Doesn't really look like a monster to me."

"Yeah, looks harmless."

"One way to find out." Dean says, pulling out a silver coin. "Come here boy. Hey. This isn't gonna hurt at all. Unless it hurts" He adds, putting the coin to the skin.

"Not a shifter."

"I guess we can uh, rule out killer."

"Do you agents need any further assistance?" The sheriff asks, coming in.

"Officer, I think we're okay. Thanks."

"Alright, well let me know."

"Officer. Excuse me. Uh, can I borrow your hat?" Dean asks, and the barking stops.

When he goes to put the hat on, the dog barks like crazy and stops when he removes the hat.

"Good luck getting adopted."

"Okay, so The Colonel's not a suspect."

"Yeah, but he's a witness. Hey boy, you speak sign language?"

"That's monkeys."

"Huh?"

"You know what? This is gonna sound crazy. I read this book once about this guy who tried to teach his dog to speak after it witnessed a murder."

"Really?"

"It worked?"

"No."

"But he wrote a book about it?"

"Yeah well, he doesn't have what we have. Kevin. Hey, it's me. How do we speak to a dog? Uh huh. Yeah, tell me everything." Sam says as he starts to walk off.

"Let's make sure we can take Colonel with us."

"I got it." I nod, going to see if we could take him.

After I had asked, we were allowed to take him. I was given a leash and walked back to Dean.

"Got it all taken care of. We can take him."

Dean opens the cage and clips the leash to a collar that was put on him and we walk him out of the shelter, and outside. I sit in the back of the car with Colonel and we head back to the motel so Sam can get whatever it is to help us hear Colonel talk.

"An Inuit spell."

"Who know the uh, men of letters had it's own Eskimo section?"

"And it's supposed to let us communicate with The Colonel?"

"Yeah well...that's the plan. Kevin said it's like a sort of human/animal mind meld."

"Meaning?"

"If it works, we should be able to read The Colonel's thoughts."

"Ew, that looks nasty." I say about what Sam was poured into a glass.

"Alright, I'll do it. You got enough on your plate." Dean says, taking the glass.

"Like what?"

"Uh, like...you're tired. You're on the mend, okay? Plus you...you've got a sensitive stomach. Last thing we need is you chucking this stuff up. Huh? Doesn't look so bad." He says before drinking it, and I kind of make a face watching.

"I was wrong. Come on. Ha! Deila her me. Dag eru nokkrar vitur orum. Alright, let's get this party started. Tell me everything you know. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Tough crowd."

Colonel just whines and lifts his head up and barks. Dean just shakes his head 'no'. We thought that the spell didn't work, so we got some lunch and listened to some music, maybe having to wait a bit for the spell to kick in.

"So what do we do now? The spell didn't work, and it's been long enough for anything to kick in."

"Call Kevin. Spell tasted like ass and was a bust."

"At least it didn't affect your appetite. Jeez."

"Yeah."

Change the station. Change the station.

"What?"

"What?"

"You...shut up. It's working!"

"What....finally!"

"It...go!"

"Say that again."

You call this classic rock? Next thing you know, they'll be playing Styx. And Dennis DeYoung? A punk.

"Dennis DeYoung's not a punk. He's Mr. Roboto bitch."

"Why are you arguing with the dog about Styx?"

"Yeah, I mean aren't you supposed to be finding out what he saw?"

"Wh...uh, yeah. Um, hey boy. What were you trying to tell us about the cowboy hat?"

The douchewheel who killed my best friend was wearing a cowboy hat.

"And the pothead too?"

Yup. Same guy killed both.

"Ask about the cats." Sam says as he tosses his trash into the bin.

"Yeah uh..." Dean trails off, retrieving the trash and giving it back to Sam, in result him getting weird looks from us. "...and what about the cats?"

I don't know.

"I don't want this." Sam states about the trash.

I couldn't see much. I didn't exactly have the best view in the orphanage. Oh, but I could smell him. Guy reeked of red meat, dish washing detergent and tiger balm.

"Huh."

"So, what's he saying?" Sam asks, tossing the trash away again, only to have Dean retrieve it again.

"Uh, that the...the guy, he smelled like ground chuck and soap suds and old lady cream."

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asks, holding the trash up.

"I don't know. Oh what are you laughing at?

Uh...

Colonel then starts barking and then Dean gets up in a hurry and goes to the window with him.

"Hey! Hey, hey! Yeah! You! You! Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, you! You! You! You!"

"Um...." I trail off. "..is he acting like a dog?" I question.

"Uh, Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"I think the spell worked. In fact, I think it worked a little too well."

"What?"

"I think...you might be a dog."

"What?"

"You're scratching your head, you're...barking at the mailman, you're playing fetch." Sam says, tossing the garbage away again, causing Dean to look at it and then not go after it.

He turns to us and starts to whimper like a dog would.

"Ruh roh."

"I'll call Kevin." I say as I take my phone out and do so. "Hey Kevin. Yeah, we have a problem. Dean did that spell, and he's kind of acting like a dog. Yeah, playing fetch, scratching his head, barking at the mailman. Yeah sure. Here Sam." I hand my phone to him and while Kevin is looking up why Dean is exhibiting this behavior, he can tell Sam why.

Dean has since got up and sat on one of the beds, staring at Colonel.

"Yeah. No, that...okay. Alright. Thanks. So, apparently the Inuit spell has some side effects."

"Oh, well that would have been nice to know before I downed it. What kind of side effects?"

"When you mind meld with an animal, it's...possible to start exhibiting some of it's behavior."

"Explains the fetch and mailman thing." I nod.

Don't look at me Hoss. It ain't my fault.

"Well how long am I gonna have the urge to..."

...sniff butts?

"Oh, whoa. Hey. I don't have the urge to sniff butts."

Yet.

"Do you really h-have the..."

"No! come on!"

"Well, Kevin doesn't know how long it'll last. It's not like it's an exact science, you know? But hopefully, when the spell wears off, so will the side effects." Sam explains as Dean grabs a chocolate bar and goes to eat it.

I wouldn't eat that if I were you. Chocolate? Seriously.

Dean then stops eating the chocolate, spitting out the piece that was already in his mouth.

"Alright, so now that you can hear his thoughts. You think maybe we should go back and see if we can figure anything else out?"

"That's actually not a bad idea. Let's go."

Colonel is leashed and we get ready to go, before heading out to the parking lot.

Where we headed?

"Back to the shelter."

To sniff out more clues, maybe dig up something we missed?

"Alright, one more doggy pun out of you, and I'm gonna have your nuts clipped."

I hate to break it to you Hoss. My sack's emptier than Santa's after Christmas.

Just then as we were approaching the car, we saw bird poop land right on the windshield.

"Oh gross. That's why I don't like birds sometimes.

"Aw, are you kidding me? Hey dick move, pigeon." Dean says to the pigeon on the light post above the car.

Screw you ass hat.

"Did..."

"What?"

"Wait a minute. Can I hear all animals?"

Yep. Animals have a universal language...like Esperanto. But this one actually caught on.

And I'm just getting started too. Brewing a real big one. Ha. Bet your ride's gonna look sweet in white.

"What's he saying?"

"You...he's being a douchebag!"

Who you calling douchebag, douchebag?

"Oh, shut it you winged rat!"

I can't help but snicker at the fact that he's arguing with a pigeon of all animals.

"Dude, what?"

"Just calm down. Just get in the car."

Ha ha. That's right Sally. Go cry to mama.

"Oh, that's it you son of a bitch!" Dean says, pulling out his gun and goes to shoot the pigeon, but Sam and I quickly stop him, hiding the gun.

"Ooh! Dean! Hey! Get in the car."

As we leave, we head back to the shelter and as we're pulling in along with Colonel, Dean has his head sticking out the window. I shake my head, and laugh to myself before Sam comes to a stop and we all get out.

"I think it's probably best to leave Colonel in the car."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, all the windows are open."

"You think we like that?"

"We?"

"You think because the windows are open that, that's some sort of a treat huh? No, the dog's coming in."

Respect.

After he gets Colonel out of the car, we start to head in, but stop because they stop and we look in the direction they're looking and there's another dog, clearly a female.

Yeah baby.

"You said it."

"Dean..."

"Yeah." He snaps out of it and we head in, going straight to the cages.

"So, what else can you tell me about the man in the cowboy hat?"

Honestly, I couldn't see much. Damn cataracts. And you know no one's going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system I guess. I don't belong here you know. I'm pedigreed.

"Well I'm sure you'll be out of here soon."

Please. I'm 14.

"Good luck...ma'am."

Once a day they clean these cages. Once a day!

"Okay."

A biscuit. Just one biscuit.

I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer.

I'm shaking the fence boss. Still shaking the fence.

Over here!

I was framed!

Shaking the fence boss. Still shaking the fence!

"So, find anything out?"

"Hardly. And I'm not getting any clues...just a bunch of complaints."

Hey, pretty boy. Over here.

"Yeah, uh, sorry pal. I'm done for the day."

But I saw everything!

Dean looks at us and then heads over to the cage where the Yorkshire Terrier is, and we follow.

And I'll tell you, but...it'll cost you.

"What? Are you kidding me? I'm being extorted by a dog. Well what do you want? What? Beggin' Strips? Snausages?"

Bitch please. If I'm gonna rat someone out, it's got to be worth my while. I want...a belly rub .

"You...alright."

Not from you, sweetie. From that big one. Over there. Hi!

"He wants a belly rub."

"Yeah? And?"

"From you."

"Seriously?"

"It's the only way he'll talk Sam."

"Fine." She sighs, unhooking the cage and picking him up, starting the belly rub.

Ohh, a..a cowboy hat, leather pants, the dude's a total closet case.

"Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy, other than his outfit?"

Um, he was carrying a burlap sack for the cats.

"What does he want with the cats?"

Ooh, attaboy, yes. Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate.

"Ew."

"What?"

"Apparently our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats."

"That guy is sick." I make a face.

Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it.

"Okay, what did it say? Hey come on. We had a deal."

Well you tell that to the tall drink. He's the one who stopped rubbing.

"Sam."

"Hand cramps."

"He's not talking."

Attaboy. It said 'Avant-Garde Cuisine'. Lucky for you, I read French.

That's a cafe on Main Street. No dogs allowed.

"Well no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap. We got to get downtown. Apparently our guy works at a restaurant."

Whoa..oh, yeah. No, no, wait, wait, wait. Sure you don't want to adopt me?

"No thanks. Uh, we'll pass."

No, I'm not above licking feet. Hey big'un! Come back here!

"Hey hold up."

"What's the matter?"

Best belly rub I ever had.

Just then Dean goes over to all the cages, letting the dogs go free.

Freedom!

I left a surprise in there for Animal Control.

I didn't peg you for a softy.

Going home. I'm going home. Honey, I'm coming home. Yeah, I'm coming home.

I'm going home!

Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!

"Aww, you let them all free. Look at you with the weak spot for shelter dogs." I grin.

"They don't deserve to be here. Now let's get to the restaurant."

By the time we got there, pulling up to the back of course because we saw that the restaurant was closed, it was nightfall. We get out and Sam picks the lock and we go inside.

"I'm sorry. Who can afford to be closed on Monday these days?"

"Homicidal maniac?"

"Yeah."

"Nutsy, out of his mind maniac."

"Hey." Sam says and we end up finding a storage room.

"Check this out."

"Chef Leo."

"Think he's our guy?"

"It's okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats.

We then proceed to snoop around, seeing if we could find anything.

"Whoa. Oxycodone, Tramadol, Methadone."

"Someone likes to be drugged up."

"Guess he likes to cook comfortably numb."

"Yeah, apparently."

Help us.

Please mister.

Over here.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Sounded like little kids."

Help. If you don't free us, the chef will eat us.

He's not lying.

We're in a cage!

Dean then takes off the sheet where he sees it and sees rats.

"Eat you?"

Look in the refrigerator behind you.

Yeah, behind you.

In the fridge.

"Hey. Owl brains. Cheetah liver. Grizzly heart."

"Ah, a spell book. Shamanism."

That sparks my interest and I walk over, taking a look at the book myself.

"Well, what's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?"

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoo doo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal."

"Odd. Haven't heard that one before."

"So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains..."

"Your head spins around like the Exorcist?"

"Close. Bolsters your IQ. Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength."

"Okay, if he's chowing down on this stuff."

"It would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist. And clawed the guy at the shelter."

"Well, no offense, but why would he want to eat you guys?" Dean asks the rats.

Uh, we have collapsible spines.

We do. Promise

"Look at this."

"Hmm?"

"Lion liver plus eagle heart. Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda blood. Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen. He's mixing ingredients."

"What the hell for?"

Just then we hear a clanging noise and go out to investigate it.

Shoo! Quiet!

Don't shush me!

You be quiet.

I am quiet now.

We go into the kitchen and find someone there, clearly working.

"Who the hell are you?"

"We're from the Health Department. Stopped by for inspection."

"I wasn't aware we had one scheduled."

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be. That's the point. Besides, I thought you were closed."

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner. In fact, he'll be here any minute."

"Oh. Well then. In that case, kitchen's shut down."

"Shut down? Why?"

"Because, uh, y..you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14."

"Out. Come on. Get out. Both of you. We'll let you know. Alright. We'll take the front, you take the back."

"Do we even know how to kill this guy?"

"Well, empty one of these in his head. See what it does." Dean says, referring to his gun.

Just as Dean and I go to the front, there's a metal clang again, sparking Sam's attention. There's a thud too and then he goes to find out what it is. Little does he know, the chef had camouflaged himself into the wall like a chameleon and id a sneak attack, lashing Sam's neck, making him bleed out.

"Chameleons aren't that bad. Kind of taste like chicken."

As Sam is bleeding out, Zeke comes through and heals him, before turning back into Sam.

"How the hell did you do that?"

"D...do what?"

"Don't play coy. I want to know what you are. Oh screw the sharktopus. You're my main course." He says before knocking Sam out.

After knocking Sam out, he dragged him into the kitchen, leaving him laying there on the floor as he sharpened some knives and such. Dean and myself had made our way to the kitchen to find the chef sharpening those knives, but stops when we get close.

"Why does it smell like dog in here?" Chef Leo asks before turning to face us.

"That smell's coming from you." He says to Dean.

Dean shoots at him first, but he misses and then the chef throws a meat cleaver at him, but thankfully Dean ducks that. A fight then ensues between the two, but not before he comes after me and throws me into some kitchenware.

"All dogs should be leashed." Leo says as he takes an electrical cord and ties Dean up to the beam in the middle of the room.

"What did you do to my brother?"

"Your brother? What was your mom smoking when she had you two? He's fine. He's just taking a little cat nap before dinner. I've never had human heart before. Heard it's a bit chewy. Good job I'm not a fussy eater."

"You're sick."

"I've been told that twice."

"No, no. not in the head. I, uh...well, you are that too, but I mean sick like cancer."

"Well I guess dogs really can sniff it out. Stage IV carcinoma."

"Huh. So that's why you're doing this. What happened? Draw the short stray, decided to break bad?"

"See, when I was diagnosed, I was way past standard treatment. No one could save me. But then with the help of a Pawnee shaman and a zoo membership, I found a cure, albeit a temporary one. Cancer always came back."

"You start experimenting with different organs huh? Traded in the single serving food for a combo platter."

"Well what can I say? Combination therapy works. I felt stronger, and the effects lasted longer."

"And if you smoke a few innocent people in the process, well hell, at least you felt better."

"Well, I didn't mean to kill anyone...at first. But if people got in my way, they became collateral damage. Guess you eat enough predators, you start to become one. You are what you eat, right?"

"And you really think the power you hold over other people's lives can make up for what you lack in your own?"

"So dog boy, what do I need to eat to take you down, huh?"

"You don't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do want to do this. See I'm gonna kill you, work up a nice appetite, eat your girlfriend over there, and then I'm gonna eat your brother. I mean, I don't know what the hell he is, but with healing powers like that, who cares? He could cure me. Ah. Dog on sort of dog." He says, holding up a wolf heart.

"Rahuraar, sakuriisat iisat a ti'pah kaawakit. 'A tarahkista'u...a raah." He finishes the spell before biting into the wolf heart.

At the same time, Dean had gotten free and grabbed the meat cleaver off the beam and went to hit him with it, but he knocked it away, and Dean pushed him away. The chef then turned around and his teeth had changed into a wolf's. That's when Dean started to run and Chef Leo ran after him. I had come to just as they had run out, getting the strength to get up, I started to run after them. They had gone out to the back, the door closing behind them.

"Sorry. Wolf trumps dog."

"Maybe. But not a whole pack." Dean says, whistling and Colonel and all the dogs he had let loose earlier came running.

Chef Leo then tries to hurry back inside, but I had gotten there and locked the door, smirking at him. He then tries to climb the fence, but can't and then gets mauled by all the dogs. Kind of a nasty sight and I had to look away at times, but he was soon killed. Once he was killed, I unlocked the door and let Dean in.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." I nod. "Thank god it's over now."

"Right. Now let's go make sure Sam's alright."

I nod and we hurry to the kitchen to make sure he's alright. He's still laying there knocked out.

"Hey. For the love of god Sammy. Hey, Sammy. Zeke. Whoever the hell you are. Hey. Come on. Don't make me lick your damn face. Hey." He shakes him and he wakes up.

"Oh thank god you're alright Sam." I sigh.

"Come on." Dean says and we help Sam up to his feet.

"So what do we do with Colonel?" I ask as we head back out to the car.

"Well we can't bring him on the road with us. Not a good place for a dog to be. Put him up for adoption again. And I know the right people to give him to."

"When you called up about adopting him, we couldn't believe it."

"Aren't you the sweetest?"

Ugh. Back off, tofu-breath.

"Oh, you must be starving. Lucky for you, I baked some vegan doggy cupcakes.

I'm gonna be pooping wheat grass with these two.

"Look, I know they're hippie freaks, but they're gonna give you a good home...one that you deserve."

Yeah, yeah.

"Wish we could take you on the road with us, but it's no life for a dog."

Don't sweat it. I get carsick anyway. I was afraid to tell you earlier, but I barfed in your backseat.

"You..."

What?

"I'm gonna miss you buddy."

I'll miss you too. And by the way, as an honorary dog, there's something you should know. Dog's aren't really man's best friend.

"What are you talking about?"

I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the real reason we were put here was to...

Then Colonel just starts barking.

"Put here to do what?" Dean asks, but he can no longer hear him talk anymore, just barking.

"Oh, you got to be kidding me. Oh, now the spell wears off?! Okay."

He says bye to Colonel one last time before coming back out to Sam and I, where Sam was waiting outside the car, while I was sleeping in the backseat.

"How did it go?"

"Well, bad news is I'm gonna miss the fleabag. Good news is, it looks like the spell is finally wearing off. You okay? The Stetson man got you pretty good."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I...I just, uh...I can't stop thinking about what he said."

"Oh come on Sammy. Guy was out of his freaking gourd."

"Yeah, but, I mean, why...why would he ask that? Why...why did he want to know what I was?"

"Who the hell knows? He was all jacked up on juice you know? He was possessed by...by something he couldn't control. It was...it was just a matter of time before it completely took over. You can't reason with crazy, right?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I do. Trust me Sam. You got nothing to worry about."

And then they get into the car, as I was sleeping in the back after a long night, pulling out of the parking lot of the vegan bakery.