A/N: Okay, I want to thank historylover for suggesting this amazing idea. I never in my life would have tried to do a fanfiction using merely dialogue. I am usually pretty bad at dialoguing, and tend to write description better. Yet after running this by a good friend Catbeist, (who also gave me a couple ideas of her own...) I found that it turned out MUCH better than I would have earlier assumed. Of course I leave that up to the reader, hehe.
The title of the story is a play on an episode of Still Standing, where Brian Miller has to make a St. Patrick's day float, and his father ruins the whole thing. I thought of that episode and I coined it: St. Patrick's Day Massacre. The name stuck with me, so I came up with this story. Yeah, okay, I went a long way for that one, but I tend to do that, hehe.
Oh, I added this at the last minute, but I made up the name of the bar. The name of the town they are in is, however, real.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a dangerous mind and the know-how to use it. As is the sad case here!
St. Patrick's Day Massacre
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March 17th, 2008...1:30 AM
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Gypsy's Bar...Salida, Colorado
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"Dean, what are you doing?"
"Having a beer."
"Yeah, but it's green."
"Sam, I think I have to teach you the finer points of alcohol..."
"Oh God..."
"Don't give me that, and sit down would ya? Who was it that taught you how to load and shoot a gun, kill vampires with dead man's blood, and deal with a zombie who thought you tasted sooo good?"
"Dude, whatever, and leave my hair alone. You are such a jerk."
"Yeah well you're a bitch, get over it."
"..."
"Don't roll your eyes at me Sammy."
"Ha! I learned from the best."
"I will disregard that remark, and return to what we were talking about."
"Green beer?"
"Yes. Now, you have to realize that when it comes to this great time of year, people like us have to drink this stuff, whether we like to or not."
"But it looks gross, almost like something we hunted has taken it over Dean."
"You're paranoid Sam, you truly are."
"Hey, I have every right to be. That is just weird."
"Okay, listen. How do you know it's weird if you never even tried it?"
"I don't know, but you said the same thing about brussel sprouts. Dad never could get you to eat those things."
"Yeah well they do look weird man. Plus they smell awful when you cook them. Like somebody let off a ton of farts. I am not putting that in my mouth."
"Well, then you know how I feel about that beer. You ever wonder if it's brussel sprout juice mixed in there?"
"Dude, now you're weird. I might have to avoid you from now on."
"Hey, I am just speculating here, you never know."
"I do know, I drink this every year, have since I have been able to. You creep me out."
"Yeah well, I just don't think I can trust anything that is not the color it is supposed to be. Beer is supposed to be a dark brown, not...green."
"Calm down dude. It's not like there is some alien force at play here waiting for you to drink it, and then it will take over your mind or anything. Though in your case..."
"Ha, Ha. You are just so funny Dean, I think I broke a rib."
"Your sarcasm knows no bounds Sam, truly."
"But seriously, I just don't think I can drink that stuff. It just looks wrong. How do you get past the sight of it?"
"Hey, I get past the sight of you every morning, and I live to tell about it. The beer is no exception."
"Dean, why do you have to be such an ass?"
"Oh, cause it amuses me so, and it annoys you to no end."
"Jerk."
"And we're back to that again huh? You need to learn how to defend yourself a bit better than calling me 'jerk' all the time, Sasquatch. Try again will ya."
"..."
"Nothing huh? I had a feeling that one day your brain would fry from all that book learning."
"Freak."
"Nope, still not quite there yet buddy. The fire is there, but the verbiage is still a little weak."
"Dean, I am not playing your sick little mind games. Just cause you get off on them, doesn't mean I have to."
"Easy there cowboy. Who's the freak now?"
"Bite me."
"You'll never get it will ya? Anyway, back to the beer. Are you even gonna try it? I mean it's just a simple thing, nothing evil or wicked. You don't have to over think this like you do everything else Sam."
"Dean, why do you constantly have to force things on me? I just, I just don't think it's normal. I want my drinks to come unadorned, all natural and look as if they are free of what looks like pond scum."
"Dude, you truly have to get out more. Unadorned and all natural? What the hell is that? College speak for bland and tasteless? Man if it does not come from a friggen health food store and made in Napa Valley, you turn up your pointy nose at it. Live a little will ya!"
"Oh like some people in this room? You sniff your clothes to decide which is the cleanest, you eat food like a lion who just snagged an antelope, and you play music best suited for some kid's garage band. Oh yeah, that's living Dean.
"At least I ain't anal retentive to the point that I fold my boxers so perfectly they have creases Sammy. "
"..."
"You're doing it again."
"Whatever."
"I would appreciate it if you would speak up when you talk. That mumble shit is annoying."
"Well, if I had anything to actually talk about, I would. But the conversation has suddenly taken a violent turn here. So I choose to be quiet."
"And that would be the stick in your ass choking your windpipe right?"
"Dean!"
"Okay, Okay. Excuse me Monk!
"Dean..."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah...Look, I have to go to the bathroom. Too much green beer. I'm gonna leave this bottle here. If you even want to try it at all, go for it, if not, just hand it back to the bartender and get some of that wheat germ all you health nuts like."
"Just go already will ya. And I can't promise you anything. I still stand by my former statement. It..."
"...Looks weird. I know, you sound like a damned broken record. Just do whatever the hell you want to do. I quit."
(Dean exits)
"Okay, now it looks freaky, as if it might be left over from a hunt. For a mildly intelligent man, I should know better than to think this way, but you always have to question the unknown, even if it is something as simple as a green colored beer. Well, only way to know what the hell is going on inside the bottle is to test it. Here goes."
(Dean Enters)
"Ah Hah!"
"..."
"Woah, easy there tiger. Don't want you to drown in that alien shit. It might attach to your tonsils and take over your entire body."
"Dean, don't ever do that again. Sneaking up on people is not funny, and neither is that."
"Aw, poor Sam. You really are paranoid. It's just a beer, there is nothing in there other than a little food coloring. Even a college boy like you should know that."
"Oh yeah, hehe, I knew that."
"Yeah, and you also knew that the monster under your bed wasn't my coat."
"Dude, I was 5, and you used to kick it from the other side of the bed for pure joy."
"Yeah, the look on your face was a classic. Anyway, how's the beer?"
"Well, the amount I was able to get down, before you almost drowned me, tasted kind of boring."
"Do what? What the hell do you mean 'boring'?"
"Well, I mean. I don't get the infatuation with green beer. It tastes like all other beers I have ever had. Just, well green. Nothing special at all about it."
"..."
"Dean...Dean...? Why are you looking at me that way? Dean, um, I think I'll leave now, you look pretty upset."