Learn To Have A Little Fun (Open)

[trickster]

Despite the far that the world was on the brink of the apocalypse, things were going well for the Trickster. There wasn't a moment that went by that he didn't think about what was to come. The fact that Michael and Lucifer had to fight yet again tore him up inside for reasons that were only known to him. This time it would most likely be to the death. No cages, no exile, no forgiveness. The Trickster hated that thought and wanted nothing more for it to all be over. As always, who was at the centre of it, those damn Winchesters. The only thing the Trickster could do was to go about his own way, killing those who he felt deserved it, he would pay a visit to Sam and Dean soon enough.

It was always a bonus when he found places where there was multiple people worthy of his…attention. There was less moving around, more elaborate tricks that could involve more than one person. The downside of course, was that it brought more attention, but that was still part of the fun.

The Trickster had been in Minnesota for almost three weeks now, in a small city not far from the state line that was shared with Bobby Singer's HQ state, South Dakota. The city, Pipestone, only had a population of just under five thousand . In his time there, the Trickster had killed seven people, each in humorous and ironic ways. He had already made an ice cream truck fall on an obese child abuser and had made a gynecologist who took advantage of his patients get raped by Bigfoot. He wouldn't have been surprised if he had attracted attention to himself.

It was going to be one of his last few nights in Pipestone. The Trickster had grown bored of the scenery and everyone in it. The short man sat in one of Pipestone's many bars in a pair of overalls. His cover for this particular visit was working as someone who maintained the runways of the local airport, the more boring sounding the better, it wasn't like he actually did any work. Oh the fun he could have had with the airport if there wouldn't be so much collateral damage. The bar was empty, people in that particular neighborhood were afraid of suffering a similar fate to the Trickster's victims.

Slowly he got up, sighing out of boredom as he did, before going behind the bar and grabbing a bottle of the most expensive champagne the bar stocked.

"Champagne!? Are you kiddin' me!?" he shouted to himself as he read the label which simply read "Champagne". It must have cost about 2 dollars a bottle.

The Trickster waved his hand over the bottle, after which the bottle had transformed into a bottle of Cristal. That's more like it.

"Actually…there's one thing missing." he said as he held his vacant hand up, one finger raised.

At least twenty blue shimmering clouds appeared in the bar and after a few moments they were transformed into beautiful women of all ethnicity's in just lingerie, all whom swarmed around the man.

Looking at his creations, he couldn't help but broadcast his signature smirk, laughing with all his giggling girls.

"Now that is more like it."

With a snap of his fingers, the stereo started to blare random party anthems from the 80's.

[Whiskey Morgan Kings]

Two weeks, three days, five hours and seven minutes, that’s how long ago Whiskey had changed her life again. She still would randomly turn to the passenger seat to say something to John only to find him not there and be reminded of the decision she had made for him, her heart breaking from loneliness just a little bit more. She never imagined life on the road alone to be so quiet. Sure she’d found some distraction in the ghost hunt two cities ago but ghosts were baby hunter stuff, what she really wanted was to sink her swords into a hive of vampires, get some blood on her working clothing, and maybe….just maybe….for a little while, forget that she was now really all alone in the world.

It wasn’t like Whiskey’s life had been easy up to this point so why should anything in it start to randomly begin to be easy now. At sixteen fate and her parents made her a parent and protector to her younger brother who was thirteen at the time. She took to the road with John, raising him as best as she could while hunting still, hoping that one day her mother and father would find them and she could lay down the burden of being an adult before she should have to be and go back to being a teenager with the random hunt in between dates. They never did show up and not long after John’s birthday the siblings got word that their parents, Whiskey’s beloved father, would never be showing up for them because their bodies had been found. For five years Whiskey had held onto the hope that one day her dad would come walking through the door of their hotel room and tell her how proud he was of her, that she didn’t have to keep worrying anymore because they were back and would take charge again. Now she had to shoulder the responsibility alone for the rest of her life. She felt like a ship without a rudder, no direction left. Up till then it was simple, keep John safe, keep moving from city to city so whatever her parents were telling them to run from didn’t catch up with them, and keep hunting because her style was unique and a calling card for her parents to find them if they were out there looking. Now all that mattered was to keep John safe, if her little brother made it out okay then she did her job. That’s when she came up with her new plan, the one to make sure he was educated and safe forever. Her life had no meaning anymore but she could do something to make sure the world was a better place with what was left of her worthless soul. She thought she’d somehow let her brother down by the fact her parents weren’t coming for them, as if she had some control over that outcome, so now she’d force John out of the life then take a little time for herself, say a year, and at the end of that year bury a crossroads box she’d prepared and carried around in the trunk of her car and sell her soul in order to bring back her mother and father. She knew enough that the normal deal would give her five years, five years where they could be a family again, that was well worth it to her. At the end of the day she yearned to hear her father tell her he was proud of her, that her burden was over, and that she could be young for a little while. That alone would be worth her soul.

Well while in…whatever little small town she was in, might as well make like small towners do. Plus she needed cash to make it down the road some more…and nothing could get you cash and a hunt faster than the local watering hole. Parking her car in front of it she got out, stretched, and sauntered inside, catlike in her movements, wanting to attract a bit of attention. Was it 80’s night?