For my friend meazrael_64 on the occasion of her birthday.
Dean has grand plans for a birthday celebration for our wonderful lady; maybe a little too grand …?
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own them. I do, however, own my friendship with MeAzrael. Wishing you every happiness on your special day my lovely friend!
Sam stopped in his tracks as he walked into the bunker's grand hall. The book on therianthrope lore that he was carrying dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. He barely even flinched as it hit his toe.
"Oh hey Sam!"
Sam blinked in the hope that he was hallucinating.
"Dean … why the hell are you wearing lederhosen?"
"Well Sam, it's MeAzrael's birthday," Dean replied by way of an explanation.
"… and?" Sam prompted.
"Well, I'm going to show up and give her a strippo-kisso-songo-strudel-sausage-hugg
Sam knuckled his forehead wearily. "A what?"
Dean sighed heavily, adjusting his leather braces as he spoke. "Look, MeAzrael's a super cool, classy German chick, so I thought I'd give her an appropriate birthday greeting." Dean explained; "I'm going to show up at her place, and when she opens the door, I'll greet her with a kiss, and a traditional German folk song, then …"
"Wait," Sam interrupted; "since when have you known any traditional German folk songs?"
"Hey bitch," Dean snapped irritably; "you're not the only one who can do a bit of research, you know."
"Okay, Mister research guru," Sam snorted; "what are you gonna sing then?"
Dean folded his arms across his chest and snorted with smug confidence; "Autobahn, by Kraftwerk," he announced.
Sam groaned inwardly; "but Dean, that's not a trad … y'know what? Never mind." Sam gave up with a sense of totally wasted effort.
"So then," Dean continued his original point; "when I've charmed her with my singing, I'm going to make her laugh by asking if she wants a taste of my giant sausage." With a flourish, he produced a massive, net-wrapped sausage from behind his back.
"It's wurst," corrected Sam weakly.
"Hey," Dean replied with an outraged pout; "there's nothing wrong with it, this is a good one; it's the most expensive one they do over at Mal's Multimart. Only the best for our girl."
Sam briefly wondered if there was some way he could warn the unfortunate lady of what she was about to face.
His reflections went completely unnoticed by Dean, who continued to describe his plans with oblivious enthusiasm.
"… Then, when she's recovered from the sausage gag, I'll produce a plate of delicious apple strudel with whipped cream for us to share, and when that's done I'll finish off by giving her a great big hug!"
Sam's mouth moved, but no words came out.
"Hold on," he eventually blurted; "where does the 'strippo- bit come into your plans?" They were words he just knew he would regret from the moment they came out of his mouth.
"Oh well, that bit's just in case MeAzrael wants to get imaginative with the whipped cream," Dean smirked, waggling his eyebrows in that way of his that just invited a slap.
"Dean," he ventured; "MeAzrael is, as you rightly say, a super cool classy chick; so the last thing she's going to want is some great dork dressed in lederhosen turning up on her doorstep waving his giant sausage in her face!"
"Yeah she will, she'll love it 'cause she's got an awesome sense of humour," Dean snapped back; "unlike you, Sammy Serious McSadface."
Sam was determined not to encourage Dean, and so allowed the insult to sail over his head at a safe distance. "Anyway," he said; "you said MeAzrael's German?"
"Well duh! Did you miss the part about the lederhosen and the German sausage?"
"No, I didn't," Sam replied calmly; "I also don't miss the part where she lives in Germany."
"Yeah, and …"
"Which is five thousand miles away."
"I know …"
"Over an ocean."
"So, exactly how are you proposing to get yourself, your giant sausage and your apple strudel there?"
"Well, I … um …"
Sam made a faint flapping motion with his arms.
Dean sighed. "How about I email her the joke about the sausage then?"