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Landcomm: For Every Action

This was for a challenge over at tv_universe. We were given ten different gifs that were either "before" or "after". We were tasked with making something the either happened right before or immediately after the gif. Most people do other gifs, but since I don't do gifs, I wrote fic.

I decided to go with Supernatural fic, set durning the Changing Channels episode, where Dean and Sam were jumping from TV show to TV show, allowing me to write I character I know (Dean) for each and them them and still keeping the characters in the gifs in character (although I have no idea where the 3rd gif is from, so I just made something up).

It still turned out to be MUCH more difficult than I expect.

Dean had hoped that, being an alien and a member of the Stargate: Atlantis crew, Teyla would be more open to the truth of what was happening to him and he really wanted someone to know what was happening to him. But it was obvious she didn't believe him. On second thought, it may have been better to approach Sheppard with this, after all, Sheppard at least had the cultural reference to understand what Dean was talking about. Dean supposed, though, that it might be hard for anyone to believe that they were just a character on a television show -- especially one that wasn't even good enough to air on one of the major networks.


Dean had watched Project Runway a time or two -- mostly for the models and to enjoy the ridiculousness of some of the outfits that the so-called-designers made. But even he knew that to make an outfit you needed more than a bolt of chartreuse fishnet fabric, a couple of yards of gold roping and a box of something that looked remarkably like tinfoil. He haphazardly wrapped his materials around the form and tacked it together the best he could using the sewing skills he'd picked up over years of mending his own clothes. It might have helped if he knew how to use a sewing machine, but he doubted it. He just hoped that it would be bad enough to get him kicked off the show before some poor model had to walk down the runway wearing this look.


Dean wasn't sure if it was a question or not. He assumed that this was some sort of talk show. He was sitting on some overstuffed sofa and the person he was facing was sitting behind a desk and staring at him expectantly. Dean cast an uneasy look toward the audience that filled the small studio they sat in and tried to ignore the three cameras that were trained on him. He didn't have any idea who he was supposed to be. "Well," he finally managed to say, "I always felt the Stooges were under-appreciated these days. It's hard to go wrong with the classic slapstick humor, don't you think?"


Dean had lost track of time -- not just how long they'd been jumping from show to show, but how long they'd been stuck in this stupid world that seemed to be made of nothing more than room after room of junk. At first Dean had thought that they were lost in some sort of museum, especially when Sam would go all geeky over some piece of crap that came from some historically important time period. But then they would come to other rooms full of what Dean could only assume was props for some old sci-fi show. They'd wound their way through a maze of doors -- all clearly marked "exit" but each only led only to more rooms. They finally arrived at a final hallway that dead-ended with a metal wall that had strange disks embedded in it. Dean exchanged a weary look with Sam and the two of them slammed their shoulders into the wall -- which gave way immediately and dumped them into the middle of a large room, filled with more alien looking technology and one very confused looking man dressed in black.


"This isn't how real life works, you know! In real life no one gets to toss of bad one liners just before the music rises up to mark the start of an episode!" Dean ranted at the beaded curtains. It didn't make a difference though. No one in the room paid any mind to him at all. Why should they? After all, he was dead. Bad enough he was stuck in a stupid procedural (AGAIN!) but this time he had to be the murder of the week. Dean closed his eyes one of the techs approached him with a very nasty looking meat thermometer and hoped that he was going to get out of this one soon. He really didn't want to know how he ended up dead, naked and handcuffed to a bed in the "Hotel del L'Amour".


"You're James Earl Jones." It was and obvious and pointless statement -- James Earl Jones knew who he was -- but Dean couldn't help but say it. "You're James Earl Jones. You're Darth Frickin' Vader. You're Mufasa! I think I've seen every thing you've ever been in -- even the stuff that just aired on PBS. If Field of Dreams is on, I have to watch it. Even Sammy knows better than to change the channel. Just between me and you, if Santa Claus doesn't sound like you, he don't have to exist! And when you read The Raven on the Simpsons? I mean, I've faced a lot of scary shit in my life, but that was terrifying. James. Earl. Jones. This is so awesome! You are... You are..." Dean trailed off, at a loss for words. He didn't actually have to finish the sentence, though. It seemed that James Earl Jones knew exactly what he was.


Dean groaned and dropped his head onto his folded arms. Maybe his mind would be blown, if he had any figgin' idea at all what was going on. Everyone in this stupid place talked like a bunch of eggheads. Dean had dealt with his share of geniuses -- hell, he grew up with one -- but this was a whole new level of geek. Even the ones who seemed normal (like the smokin' hot artist sitting across from him) ended up using more four-syllable words than Dean ever knew existed. He'd tried watching this stupid procedural -- the babes were hot, after all -- but he never made it past the opening credits. If he had to spend another hour listening to their indecipherable techno-babble, he was just going to kill them all and put everyone out of their misery.


"No, really, you guys are actually the reboot of an old series." Dean was tired of role playing, he was going to try the truth (more or less) once again. "Then there was Voyager and Enterprise and Deep Space Nine. Now, why couldn't I be in DS9? They had a Frengi bar with Dabo girls. Oh, man they knew how to do it right, didn't they? I mean, who cares if you lose as long as you lose it to those girls, right? Anyhow, all those shows ran longer than the original but the original had more movies, and if you count the reboot of the movie franchise, I think it's got you beat. And you really do have to count the rebooted movies. I mean Shatner will always be James T. Kirk, but there's something about the way Chris Pine plays him that really makes me think we could have hit it off. Here he is, all puffed up on whatever it is that Bones just shot him up with, and he still has time to hit on a hot nurse." Dean grinned at Data who'd stared, emotionless, at him the entire time. "Ah, come on, man, you gotta admit that's funny."


Dean took a moment, trying to processes everything that had just been explained to him. "Don't you think that plan's a bit, well, complicated?"

The guy across the table -- Dean didn't know his name -- stopped tapping his fingers together and frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

"Well," Dean said, "for one thing, it’s going to take six days to get everything we need. Then we’ll need at least a dozen different people to do this your way. Do you know how much all of this will cost?” It was obvious for the blank look Dean was getting that he wasn’t getting through. "We’re just ordering a pizza! We could just walk over and order it now. There’s not even a line."

The guy looked appalled. "But where is the art in that? Where is the plotting; the anticipation? Where is the satisfaction?"

“The satisfaction comes when you eat the frickin’ pizza.”

"Bah!" He waved his hand dismissively at Dean. “You humans are so limited.”

Dean groaned and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He thought this show was overly complicated when he was just watching. Living it was so much worse.


“But, of course,” Dean continued his recitation of Farscape to the listening SG1 crew, “Aeryn and Crichton don’t really die. The aliens that killed them realize what a mistake it was, and bring them back. They set off trying to stop the war and save everyone. D'Agro actually does die -- because someone always has to -- but the war finally ends. Of course, that's only after Crichton threatens to destroy the entire universe with a black hole. It was awesomely badass. The entire series ends with Aeryn and Crichton holding their baby, heading out to live their lives in peace.”

“So,” Vayla said after a moment, “if that’s what happens in a different television show, why don’t you tell us how this one ends? It will save us a lot of time.”

Dean shrugged. “I got no clue. I stopped watching once O’Neill and Carter left.”


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Mar. 31st, 2014 08:43 am (UTC)
I have never watched Supernatural but I love that you chose to write fics for the "actions/reactions" - a brave choice! And ROTFLOL at the last one - love it! :D
May. 9th, 2014 12:53 am (UTC)
Thanks for commenting! I"m glad you liked it. That last one was very hard to wirte because I couldn't come up with anything that fit her reaction. Once I thought of it it seemed so obvious.
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