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Σενάριο Supernatural | 7×08 Season Seven, Time for a Wedding!

7x08 Season Seven, Time for a Wedding! becky

Σενάριο Supernatural | 7×08 Season Seven, Time for a Wedding!

Written by: Andrew Dabb and Daniel Loflin

Directed by: Tim Andrew

Air Date: 11 November 2011

NOW

INT. CLUB IN LAS VEGAS – NIGHT

DEAN is drinking beer with a WAITRESS while sitting at a table with his back to the dancers on stage.

WAITRESS:
Okay, you won’t believe it. People think I just say it to get a bigger tip.

DEAN:
Try me.

WAITRESS:
Fine. I’m in grad school. See? Okay? There’s a look. [laughs] Okay? Stop.

DEAN:
No, this is my «I dig smart chicks» look. Now, if they, uh, if they wore that, I… I wouldn’t have dropped out of school.

WAITRESS:
So, what’s your deal?

DEAN:
My deal?

WAITRESS:
Yeah, okay. You came in here looking like somebody shot your puppy.

DEAN:
Well, things are looking up now that your shift’s over. All right. Uh, here’s the deal. I have this friend. He’s got this younger brother. Right? Cannon’s a little loose. You know, his reactor blew a while back. It’s not good. Um… My friend — he’s, uh… He’s kind of been sitting, waiting to see if he goes guano again.

WAITRESS:
And I assume it just hit the fan?

DEAN:
Well, that’s the thing. It didn’t. The kid’s all reasonable now, considering he’s crazy. Well, he’s — I mean, he’s not crazy. He — he’s starting to seem like things might be getting a little better.

WAITRESS:
Well, that’s a good thing, right?

DEAN:
It’s a freakin’ miracle. Except… when it happens during their, uh… their sacred annual pilgrimage to Vegas… and he goes off on some granola-munching hike in the desert by himself.

WAITRESS:
Well, maybe he just needs some time alone.

DEAN:
Yeah.

WAITRESS:
We all need to face ourselves sometime.

DEAN:
Maybe he does.

WAITRESS:
Wasn’t talking about him.

DEAN’s phone beeps.

DEAN:
Excuse me.

DEAN’s phone reads:

10:23pm

From: Sammy

348 Twain Ave

WEAR FED SUIT!

DEAN:
Speak of the devil. He’s four blocks away?

WAITRESS:
See? Baby bro needs you after all.

EXT. “A LITTLE WHITE CHAPEL” – NIGHT

INT. “A LITTLE WHITE CHAPEL” – NIGHT

DEAN, dressed in a suit, walks down the hallway. A light flickers above him and he draws his gun. As he moves to open the double doors at the end of the hallway, SAM opens the doors from the inside. SAM is wearing a suit and a pink boutonniere. DEAN points his gun at SAM.

SAM:
Dean. It’s okay. You won’t need that. Come on.

SAM puts a hand on DEAN’s shoulder and leads him into the chapel. A WOMAN and a MAN are sitting against the wall. The WOMAN is reading a book and the MAN doing a crossword from a newspaper.

DEAN:
I thought you were out, uh, becoming one with the land or some crap.

SAM:
You got to — come here.

SAM moves DEAN into position.

SAM:
All right. Now…

DEAN [to the WOMAN and MAN]:
Hi.

SAM pins a pink carnation boutonniere on DEAN.

DEAN:
What is this?

SAM:
Uh, apparently, uh, pink is for loyalty.

DEAN:
All right, so, what’s the pretext? What are we — uh, wedding crashers, huh? We lookin’ for some kind of siren or what?

SAM:
No. Nothing like that. All right, um… So, a little sudden. But life is short, so I’ll keep this shorter.

SAM puts a hand on DEAN’s shoulder.

SAM:
I’m in love. And I’m getting married.

DEAN stares at SAM.

SAM:
Say something, like, uh, like, «congratulations,» for example.

DEAN:
What?

Wagner’s «Bridal Chorus» plays and a woman in a wedding dress and veil enters the room.

DEAN:
What the hell?

The woman in the wedding dress stops in front of SAM and DEAN. SAM lifts her veil.

DEAN:
Becky?

BECKY:
Dean. I’m so glad you’re here.

A black and white three-tiered wedding cake with “Time For A Wedding” written on it explodes into:

SUPERNATURAL (Title Card)

The bride and groom that were atop the wedding cake fall over the title card.

ACT ONE

INT. CHAPEL – NIGHT

DEAN:
Shouldn’t she ask for my permission or something?

SAM:
Y-you want her to ask for my hand?

DEAN:
How in the — How did this happen?

SAM:
Short version? We — we — we met. We ate and — and talked and fell in love. And, you know, here we are.

DEAN:
Yeah, I-I guess I’m all caught up. That’s — okay. You know what? Ignoring everything, have you forgotten the average life-span of your hookups?

SAM:
Yeah, but —

BECKY:
But if anyone knows that, it’s me. I mean, I read every book. So, open eyes, you know? Open eyes.

DEAN:
I’m gonna be sick.

SAM:
Dean, look, it’s simple. If- if something good’s happening, I-I got to jump on it — now, today, uh, period.

DEAN:
Okay, «Dead Poets Society.» Fine. [to BECKY] No offense. [to SAM] Did you make sure she’s even really —

BECKY:
Salt, holy water, everything. See?

BECKY holds out her arm, which has a cut.

BECKY:
Not a monster. Just the right girl for your brother.

DEAN:
Ah.

BECKY:
That’s it.

A MAN walks up and hands a folder to SAM and BECKY. BECKY takes it.

MAN:
The bill.

BECKY:
I got it. You two do your brother thing.

BECKY walks away.

BECKY (offscreen):
Um, do you take traveler’s checks?

DEAN:
Really?! Superfan ninety-nine?!

SAM:
Dean, look. Honest to God, I-I had the exact same opinion of her as you do. But when we got past the whole book thing, I found out t-that she’s great and I was the dick.

DEAN:
Yeah, you know, speaking of the whole, uh, book thing… Becky randomly shows up during Vegas week?

SAM:
Yeah.

DEAN:
Yeah.

SAM:
Okay, um, what are you trying to say?

DEAN:
I’m saying maybe she knew you were gonna be here. Maybe, uh, uh, uh, Chuck wrote about it.

SAM:
Dean, you’re paranoid.

DEAN:
And you’re in love?! It’s been four days, man!

SAM:
You know what, Dean? You know what? Um, how about this? Becky and I are gonna go up to her place in Delaware. Um, why don’t you try and wrap your dome around this, get a little supportive, then give us a call?

SAM claps DEAN on the shoulder and walks over to BECKY, who Tweeting on her phone.

BECKY:
«First official Tweet as Mrs. Becky Rosen-Winchester!»

EXT. OUTSIDE “THE STETSON” – NIGHT

DEAN is walking to the Dodge.

DEAN (on phone):
Bobby. Hey, I know you’re, uh, beard-deep in that Oregon nest. I’m headed to Delaware to do a little snoopin’ around. Sam is there with his wife. That’s right. You heard me. His wife. Call me.

EXT. CAR PARK OUTSIDE “UNCLE DIETZ’S ALPEN HAUS RESTAURANT” – DAY

A car with “Just Hitched” written on the rear window pulls into the car park. A sign reads:

Welcome

Class of 2001

10 Year Reunion

SAM:
I thought we just ate.

BECKY:
Quick stop.

INT. RESTAURANT – DAY

A woman is talking on the phone near a sign that reads:

WELCOME

CLASS OF 2001

MONTGOMERY HIGH

10 YEAR REUNION

Special Thanks to

Mrs Jocelyn Carver

2011 Class President

WOMAN (on phone):
Well, is that my fault? I told you we had tickets 11 times.

BECKY:
Hi, Jocelyn.

JOCELYN (on phone):
Let me call you back. Just get a sitter. It’s not calculus.

JOCELYN:
Yes. Can I help you?

BECKY:
It’s Becky. Becky Rosen.

JOCELYN:
Ohh! «Yechie Becky.»

BECKY:
Ha. Long time ago.

JOCELYN:
Yechie Becky! Oh! Well, you look just the same, don’t you?

BECKY:
I’m here to RSVP for the reunion, if it’s not too late.

JOCELYN:
No, no, there is always room for one more.

BECKY:
Actually…

SAM steps up behind BECKY and puts his hands on her shoulders.

BECKY:
It’s Rosen-Winchester. So mark me down «plus one.»

EXT. RESTAURANT – DAY

As SAM and BECKY leave the restaurant, BECKY is Tweeting on her phone.

BECKY:
«Jocelyn Caruso roasted.»

BECKY sees someone she knows in the car park and hurries over to him.

BECKY:
Hi, Guy!

BECKY and GUY hug.

GUY:
You’re back! How was Vegas?

BECKY:
It was awesome!

BECKY holds up her left hand to show her ring.

GUY:
Really? Really?

BECKY:
Guy, meet my husband, Sam.

GUY:
Hey. It’s an honor to meet you, Sam.

SAM:
Thanks. You too.

BECKY:
Guy’s a really good friend. We met in the erotic horror section at the novel hovel.

GUY:
Oh, my God, Becky. Come on! TMI! Poor guy’s just met me.

SAM:
No, it’s okay. Nice to meet you. Look, any friend of Becky’s…

GUY:
Anyway, I should, uh, get back to it, or this party’s not gonna happen, right?

SAM:
Sure.

GUY walks away.

BECKY:
Guy’s an event planner. Reunion season is very busy for him. Hold on one sec?

BECKY runs over to GUY and grabs his arm.

BECKY:
One more thing. You get my message?

GUY:
Of course. I thought you’d never ask. Give me a hug.

As BECKY and GUY hug, he hands her a vial.

BECKY:
I swear, if everyone had a Wiccan in their pocket, the world would be a happier place.

GUY:
It is nothing. Blessed be, sweetie.

DEAN in the Dodge arrives at the car park as SAM is getting into the “Just Married” car. SAM and BECKY drive away.

INT. RESTAURANT – DAY

DEAN takes a seat at the bar and takes out John’s journal. He notices an article in the Pike Creek Chronicle newspaper with the headline «Truck kills pedestrian in freak accident. Victim a recent lottery winner.»

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

SAM is seated at a table which is set for a candlelit dinner. BECKY comes into the room wearing a black and white negligee dress. The Association’s «Cherish» plays.

SAM:
Wow. Y-you look n-nice.

BECKY:
Thanks! I was, you know… saving it.

BECKY lifts her glass of champagne in a toast.

BECKY:
To us.

SAM:
To us.

SAM winces and holds his hands to his head in pain.

SAM:
Umm!

BECKY:
Sam? Are you okay? Sammy, honey, what’s wrong?

BECKY’s words echo in SAM’s mind and his vision blurs.

SAM:
Becky? W-why am I… What am I doing here?

BECKY sits on SAM’s lap and kisses him. He grunts in pain and puts a hand to his head again. BECKY pours purple liquid from the vial that GUY gave her into a champagne glass and holds it to SAM’s mouth.

BECKY:
We’re celebrating, dear. Remember?

SAM:
Uh… yeah, yeah, of course. To us.

BECKY:
Feeling better, honey?

SAM:
Now that I’m with you.

EXT. BALL PARK – DAY

A MAN is practicing batting using an automatic pitching machine. Another man watches him from the stands. The man in the stands makes a twisting motion with his hands and the dial on the automatic pitching machine moves from 2 to the maximum speed of 11. The next ball breaks the MAN’s bat. The man in the stands makes another hand movement and the direction of the pitching machine changes so that the next ball hits the MAN in the chest. The following ball knocks him to the ground. The MAN gets to his knees, but another ball hits him in the face and blood splatters. The man falls to the ground and blood pools out from his head.

ACT TWO

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY

DEAN rings the doorbell. He is holding a box containing a waffle iron. The box is unwrapped but is tied with a red ribbon. SAM opens the door.

DEAN:
Me being supportive. Congratulations to you and the missus.

SAM:
Thanks.

DEAN:
It’s a waffle iron. Nonstick. Yeah, you just, uh…

DEAN mimes closing the waffle iron and turning a dial.

DEAN:
I actually don’t know how to use it. Are we good?

SAM shrugs and smiles briefly.

DEAN:
Good, ’cause I’m sniffing a case in this town. The score is… Guy wins Powerball, gets squished by a truck. Second guy went from the bench to the Majors. Oh, and one week later, his face was the catcher’s mitt, huh?

BECKY:
Our first thought was crossroads demons, but there’s that 10-year time frame on collecting souls.

SAM leads the way into the bedroom, where BECKY is standing in front of a wall headed “Sam and Becky’s Investigation.” Below the sign is their research.

BECKY:
Then there’s cursed object, like in «Bad Day at Black Rock,» but we haven’t been able to connect the vics yet.

DEAN:
You’re working this case… together?

SAM:
Yeah. I know. Right? I mean, I guess all those Chuck Shurley books paid off.

DEAN:
All right, listen, Cookie, I don’t know what kind of mojo you’re working, but, believe me, I will find out.

SAM:
Dean, that’s…my wife you’re talking to.

DEAN:
You’re not even acting like yourself, Sam!

SAM:
How am I not?

DEAN:
You married Becky Rosen!

BECKY:
What are you saying? I’m a witch? Or maybe I’m a siren. Ever occur to you we’re just — I don’t know — happy?

DEAN:
Come on, Sam! Guy wins the lotto, guy hits the bigs. All right, obviously, uh, people’s dreams are coming true in this town. Don’t you think this is a little bit of a coincidence?

SAM:
You know what, Dean? What Becky and I have is real. And if you can’t accept that, that’s your problem, not ours.

DEAN:
Or maybe she’s part of it. Because for whatever reason, you’re her dream. If you really do care about her, I’d be worried. Because people who do get their little fantasies or whatever seem to end up dead pretty quick.

SAM:
You know, I went after her, Dean. Maybe that’s what’s bugging you — that I’m moving on with my life. I mean, you took care of me, and that’s great. But I don’t need you anymore.

DEAN leaves the apartment.

EXT. CAR PARK – DAY

DEAN is walking towards the Dodge.

DEAN (on phone):
I don’t want another hunter, Bobby. Why can’t you do it?

DEAN gets into the car.

DEAN (on phone):
Ugh! Fine. What’s his name?

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT – DAY

BECKY is sitting on the edge of the bed and drawing a love heart in a journal in which “Sam loves Becky” has been written over and over. She raises the journal to her face and inhales deeply. This leaves red ink on her nose.

SAM:
Hey. Uh…

BECKY closes the journal and stands up. SAM is leaning against the doorway holding a newspaper. He walks over to BECKY, wets his thumb and rubs the ink off her nose.

SAM:
I got you a present.

BECKY:
His and hers fake IDs? Oh!

They sit down on the bed and SAM hands BECKY the newspaper.

SAM:
Here. Check this out.

BECKY:
Junior salesman leapfrogs to CEO at Mutual Freedom Insurance. You think the CEO is a lead?

SAM:
Uh, Becky?

SAM is looking at the journal.

SAM:
This is…beautiful.

SAM closes the journal and holds it to his chest.

SAM:
So, what do you think about the CEO?

BECKY:
Let’s go pretext him!

INT. RESTAURANT – DAY

DEAN is walking through the restaurant looking for someone.

GARTH:
Hey. You Dean?

A short man is sitting at a table slurping a milkshake.

GARTH:
Hmm. I thought you’d be taller.

DEAN sits down opposite GARTH.

DEAN:
I assume Bobby filled you in on the road.

GARTH:
He told me two things. One, he’s tangling with a major-league nest up in Oregon territory. Numero dos, he said you’d be all, uh, surly and premenstrual working with me. But, hey, man, sticks and stones.

DEAN puts a newspaper down on the table.

DEAN:
Think I found a case. Check the headline.

GARTH:
First things first.

GARTH flips through the newspaper, finds what he’s looking for and laughs.

GARTH:
Oh, Marmaduke, you’re crazy!

INT. MUTUAL FREEDOM INSURANCE – DAY

MARSHA is standing next to a SECRETARY’s desk. DEAN and GARTH are sitting on a sofa in front of the desk.

MARSHA:
Are you trying to humiliate me? It’s Marsha with an «s-h-a,» not a «c-i-a.»

MARSHA walks away. SAM and BECKY leave the office behind the SECRETARY’s desk. BECKY is taking notes.

SAM [to SECRETARY]:
Thanks again.

GARTH:
Hey, is that your —

DEAN:
Yes.

GARTH:
Awkward.

DEAN walks over to SAM and BECKY.

DEAN:
Hi.

BECKY makes an unfriendly face at DEAN and walks away.

DEAN:
Okay. So…

SAM:
So, uh, no point in going in. Guy’s clean.

DEAN:
You sure?

SAM:
Yeah. Positive. Becky grilled him like a pro. She’s a real natural.

DEAN:
Huh.

SAM:
What’s with the scrawny guy?

DEAN:
Temp.

INT. CEO’S OFFICE, MUTUAL FREEDOM INSURANCE – DAY

CEO:
Throw a rock, hit a reporter these days, eh?

DEAN:
Well, your story’s a big deal over at the, uh, the Actuarial Insider.

CEO:
Go ahead. Shoot.

DEAN:
All right. Uh… how’d you get the gig?

CEO:
Board came to me, asked. Said yes.

DEAN:
Just out of the blue?

CEO:
Pretty much.

DEAN:
Huh. And, uh, any idea how the board landed on you over your supervisors?

CEO:
Um, they didn’t say.

DEAN:
Could you tell us what specifically excited the board about your actual qualifications?

CEO:
Say, fellas, what’s with the third degree?

GARTH:
Oh, uh, no offense. We were just wondering if you got here by nefarious means.

DEAN:
Whoa! Garth!

GARTH:
Oh. Uh, I-I didn’t mean, of course, uh, corporate backstabbing — I’m sorry. I meant more like, uh, you know, black magic or hoodoo.

DEAN:
Ha ha ha ha! Oh! He jokes. He’s a — he’s a jokester. Let’s, uh, rewind. Why don’t, uh, why don’t you tell us what it felt like when your big dream came true?

CEO:
Look, on the record, it’s great.

DEAN:
Off the record?

CEO:
It’s not my big dream.

GARTH:
Wait. You didn’t want this job?

CEO:
Hell, no. I’m a sales guy. I was good in sales.

MARSHA appears in the doorway.

MARSHA:
Your secretary’s an idiot. I’ll be at the printers this afternoon.

CEO:
All right, dear. See you at dinner.

MARSHA:
Just have the idiot make a reservation. Here’s a tip — remind her she works for the CEO. One more screw-up, she’s fired.

GARTH:
Your, uh, wife seems pretty stoked on the promotion, don’t she?

CEO:
Honestly, I’ve never seen her happier. I have no idea how I’m gonna tell her I have to resign. The news is just gonna —

GARTH:
Kill her?

INT. STAIRCASE, MUTUAL FREEDOM INSURANCE – DAY

DEAN:
Mrs. Burrows? Hi.

MARSHA:
Can I help you?

DEAN:
Yes, we’re, uh, we’re doing a story on your husband’s promotion. Wanted to ask you a few questions.

MARSHA:
I’m sorry. I can’t today. If you schedule it with his girl…

MARSHA turns to leave and DEAN puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

DEAN:
Okay, you know what? I’m trying to save you from a really bad accident.

MARSHA:
Are you threatening me?

DEAN:
No.

DEAN removes his hand from MARSHA’s shoulder.

DEAN:
No, I-I-I’m pointing out a pattern. Why do people keep thinking I’m threatening them?

GARTH:
Because it sounded exactly like a threat, dude.

DEAN:
Look, for your own good, what did you do to get him promoted?

MARSHA:
I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now leave me alone. Or do I have to call security?

MARSHA leaves.

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT – DAY

SAM is standing in front of the wall studying his and BECKY’s research.

SAM:
No, no, no, something’s not adding up.

BECKY:
I’m sure we’ll get a break.

BECKY types out a Twitter update on her phone:

BECKY:
«As soon as we’re done working, romantic honeymoon getaway.»

SAM groans in pain and holds his hands to his head. BECKY goes to her handbag for the vial. It has leaked and is empty.

INT. FOYER, MUTUAL FREEDOM INSURANCE – DAY

MARSHA (on phone):
Bring the damn car around. I’m not walking five blocks in my heels.

MARSHA stops under a large light fixture. The man who was in the stands at the ball park is standing at the railings on the next floor. He twists his hand and the chain holding the light fixture breaks. MARSHA screams. At the last moment, DEAN grabs MARSHA and they both fall to the floor out of harm’s way.

DEAN:
You okay?

MARSHA:
How did you know?

DEAN:
‘Cause you’re not the first. Come on.

GARTH:
You want to tell us what’s up here?

MARSHA:
I was having lunch with friends. This guy heard me bitching. Next thing I know, he’s making me an offer.

DEAN:
An offer?

MARSHA:
Craig’s job for my soul. I know. Hilarious. I mean, what have I got to lose?

GARTH:
Well, there’s your soul. What kind of demon deal is this? Timeline’s whack.

MARSHA:
What are you talking about? Demon?

GARTH:
Let me back up here. You made a deal with a demon in exchange for your everlasting. Except those are 10-year contracts. Why’s the bill coming due so fast?

DEAN:
I don’t know, but I got a bad feeling about who’s next. We got to find Sam, pronto.

GARTH:
All right, all right, all right. Uh, here’s the plan. I drop this lady at my cousin’s. He’ll stop anything trying to get her. We, uh, find Sam, hopefully fix this, everybody’s home in time for «America’s Got Talent.» Now, you — you’ll be living with a tri-racial paraplegic sniper until this all blows over, okay?

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT – DAY

BECKY (on phone):
Guy, where are you? We need to meet up, fast!

SAM is groaning with a hand to his head.

BECKY (on phone):
I’m losing Sam.

SAM:
Becky… W-what’s — what’s happening?

BECKY:
Don’t you remember? We’re married.

SAM:
Oh, g– I’m calling Dean.

BECKY hits SAM over the head from behind with the waffle iron. He falls to the ground.

ACT THREE

EXT. CABIN – DAY

INT. CABIN – DAY

SAM wakes. He is tied to a bed.

BECKY:
Sam, do you feel concussion-y? How many fingers am I holding up?

SAM:
Where am I? What the hell’s going on?

BECKY:
Sam… Just calm down.

SAM:
Calm down?! You hogtied me t– Becky, why — why am I not wearing any pants?

BECKY:
They’re very constricting.

SAM groans.

BECKY:
Don’t worry. I didn’t do anything weird. I was helping.

SAM:
Let me go. Now!

BECKY:
Are you thirsty? Or do you need a bottle… to, you know, tinkle? It’s okay if you do. I can help.

SAM groans again. Something beeps.

BECKY:
Finally!

BECKY hurries to her laptop in the next room.

SAM:
Wait. What? Wait. Becky? Becky. Hey, hey, don’t! Don’t! Becky!

The laptop says “Establishing Connection” and then GUY’s face appears on the screen.

BECKY:
Where have you been?

GUY (on screen):
I got your messages. Problem?

SAM can see the screen and hear the conversation from the bed.

BECKY:
Big problem. I’m at my parents’ cabin. I’ve got Sam tied to a bed. I’m out of elixir. I need a refill, okay? This isn’t the honeymoon I had in mind. Well, some of it is, but not in this context. And is it just me, or is this stuff wearing off faster and faster?

GUY (on screen):
Becky…breathe.

BECKY:
Do you know we haven’t even consummated our marriage? We were taking it slow ’cause true love is forever, but everything just feels weird now.

GUY (on screen):
All right. Meet me in an hour.

BECKY ends the call and goes back into the bedroom.

SAM:
So you dosed me with a love potion.

BECKY:
How —

SAM:
Thin walls.

BECKY:
Look… Yes, I used a social lubricant to —

SAM:
You roofied me!

BECKY:
A roofie? I’d never. We had a great time together. You were happy.

SAM:
Oh, yeah.

SAM tugs at one of the ropes binding his wrists.

SAM:
I’m thrilled.

BECKY:
I have to go.

SAM:
You know your pal Guy is the one icing all those people, right?

BECKY:
No, he’s not.

SAM:
Oh, so he’s not a witch?

BECKY:
No. He’s just a Wiccan. Wiccans are good, like Glinda of Oz.

SAM:
You’re not this stupid, Becky.

BECKY:
Whatever is killing people… it’s something else.

SAM:
It’s never something else. When are there ever two crazy things in town at the same time? Guy’s the creep, and you’re on his list.

BECKY:
No. He’s my friend.

SAM:
No, he’s your dealer. Look, I don’t know how much he’s charging you for that Spanish Fly —

BECKY:
Nothing! He gives it to me. And he said it wouldn’t even work unless you already loved me, deep down. It just activates it.

SAM:
So you think I love you?

BECKY:
Deep, deep down?

SAM:
Then untie me.

BECKY stuffs a handkerchief in SAM’s mouth.

SAM:
[muffled] No. No!

BECKY:
You’re still working through your emotions.

SAM:
[muffled] Becky!

BECKY:
I love you, too!

BECKY waves and leaves.

EXT. “UNCLE DIETZ’S ALPEN HAUS RESTAURANT” – DAY

The sign outside the restaurant reads:

Welcome

Class of 2001

Reunion Tonight!

INT. RESTAURANT – DAY

GUY is on a ladder adjusting decorations.

GUY:
[to waiter] On the table, next to the nametags.

BECKY:
Guy.

GUY:
Why don’t you take a seat?

GUY waves a bottle, but BECKY shakes her head.

GUY:
Tough day? Okay. We can cut right to it if you like.

GUY takes out a vial of elixir and slides it across the table. BECKY reaches for it, but GUY closes his hand around it.

GUY:
Ah. Let’s talk price.

BECKY:
What?

GUY:
Well, we’re a little past the freebie stage, don’t you think?

BECKY:
But I thought we were besties.

GUY:
Ohh, honey. That is so depressingly «Becky.» I mean, it’s — you’re so pathetic, it actually loops back around again to cute.

BECKY:
Okay. You want me to pay, fine. Do you accept personal checks?

GUY:
No. But I will take your soul.

GUY’s eyes turn red.

BECKY:
You’re a crossroads demon.

GUY’s eyes change back to normal.

GUY:
Bingo, bango! I love reunions. The desperation! These schlubs will sign on the dotted line for money, power, hair — whatever it takes to impress the nostalgically bangable head cheerleader.

BECKY:
Sam was right. You killed those people.

GUY:
But for legal reasons, let’s just say they had… unfortunate accidents.

BECKY:
So, what, I hand over my soul, and the next day a piano falls on my head?

GUY:
No, I’d never do that to you. I promise.

BECKY:
I’m not stupid.

GUY:
But you are special.

BECKY:
I am?

GUY:
Hey. I wasn’t thrilled to see your new hubby was Sam freakin’ Winchester. I mean, if he knew that I was here talking to you, I mean, he’d probably —

BECKY:
Gank your ass.

GUY:
Yes! And I’m very protective of my ass. It’s one of my best features. Becky, I’m prepared to offer you a one-time-only deal. Not ten years. Twenty-five. No pianos, guaranteed. Just Sam.

BECKY:
For my soul.

GUY:
And your promise to not breathe a word about this to the Winchesters, and I’ll be on my merry way. No one gets a deal like this, Becky. Not kings, not popes. I snap my fingers, and Sam will love you for the rest of your life.

BECKY:
I think I’ll have that drink now.

GUY holds out the vial.

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT – DAY

DEAN and GARTH enter, guns drawn. GARTH walks through the apartment into the bedroom. DEAN shakes his head at a framed wedding picture of SAM and BECKY and flips through BECKY’s mail.

DEAN:
Anything?

GARTH is looking at BECKY’s laptop, which shows her Twitter page:

Becky Rosen

@superbeckyrosen Delaware

The three Tweets she has made are listed.

GARTH:
Uh, she’s got 11 Twitter…ers. Last post — «Going on romantic trip with hubster!!!» Three exclamation points. I guess she got excited.

DEAN holds up a picture of BECKY standing outside her parents’ cabin with a fishing rod and a fish.

DEAN:
That look romantic to you?

GARTH:
Oh, hell, no. But I got this thing about fish. Dead eyes, man.

DEAN removes the back from the photo frame and takes out the photo. On the back is written:

BECKY’S 1ST FISH! LOON LAKE FAMILY CABIN 1994

DEAN:
Huh.

INT. CABIN – DAY

BECKY:
Well… this is not how I imagined spending my reunion.

SAM says something that is muffled by the handkerchief in his mouth.

BECKY:
I was gonna show you off — not that anyone actually knows who you are. «Supernatural» is not exactly popular, but… you’re tall… and nice and… they’d all think I was happy.

SAM mutters something.

BECKY:
You’re mad. I get it. But…

BECKY lies down on the bed and puts her head on SAM’s chest.

BECKY:
Can we talk?

SAM:
[muffled] Oh, God.

BECKY:
I know you don’t love me.

SAM:
[muffled] Yeah, you got that right.

BECKY:
I know what I am, okay? I’m a loser. In school, in life. Guess that’s why I like you so much.

SAM:
What?

BECKY leans up on one elbow and looks at SAM.

BECKY:
I mean, not that you’re a loser, but you had that whole character arc about being a freak, and… I can relate.

SAM:
[muffled] Oh, my God.

BECKY sits up on the bed.

BECKY:
Honestly… The only place people understood me was the message boards. They were grumpy and overly literal, but at least we shared a common passion. And I’ll take it, you know? Then I met you guys — the real Sam and Dean. And I started dating Chuck.

BECKY rubs a hand over SAM’s chest.

BECKY:
And everything was… amazing. But you left, and Chuck dumped me. I think I intimidated him with my vibrant sexuality.

SAM says something indistinct.

BECKY:
I just want someone who loves me for me! Is that too much to ask?

SAM says something muffled. BECKY snatches the handkerchief out of his mouth.

BECKY:
What?

SAM:
If you want somebody to love you for you, maybe don’t drug them.

BECKY:
But I want you! And this is the only way!

BECKY takes the vial out of her pocket.

SAM:
Becky. Becky, you’re better than this.

BECKY:
That’s sweet, but… I’m not so sure.

INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

BECKY is sitting at a table alone with a drink.

GUY:
Becks! You missed the party.

BECKY:
Yeah. Well… weird night.

GUY:
So, what are we thinking?

BECKY:
Okay. I’m in.

ACT FOUR

INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

BECKY gets up from the table and stands in front of GUY.

GUY:
You’re making the right choice.

BECKY:
I know. So… we seal the deal with a kiss?

GUY:
Exactly. Pucker up, sweetheart.

BECKY strikes a cigarette lighter and drops it to the ground. Flames shoot around a devil’s trap. GUY is in the middle. BECKY steps back.

BECKY:
I’m not your sweetheart!

GARTH, DEAN and SAM appear from the next room. GARTH is holding up a bottle.

GARTH:
Blueberry vodka. The answer to all of life’s problems.

BECKY:
You see that, Sam? I did it just like we said! I am awesome! I — I’ll be over here.

GUY:
Dean Winchester. This is really thrilling. Hey, can I have your autograph?

DEAN takes out a knife.

DEAN:
Sure. Yeah, I’ll, uh, carve it into your spleen. So, how you running your little scam?

GUY:
Well, how do you mean, Dean?

SAM:
Signing 10-year deals, snuffing ’em that week.

GUY:
Well, I would never. No. Rules of the road — can’t lay a hair on any of my clients.

DEAN:
Right. So how you cheating it?

GUY:
I’m not a cheater. I’m an innovator. It’s called a loophole, you moron. Yes, when a person bargains away his soul, he gets a decade, technically. But accidents happen.

SAM:
So you’re arranging «accidents» and collecting early?

GUY:
Oh, please. White gloves. I don’t get my hands dirty. That’s why it’s important to have a capable intern.

GUY’S ‘INTERN’, the man who caused the ball park and light fixture “accidents”, appears behind GUY with an arm raised. DEAN, SAM and GARTH go flying backwards and crash into tables and walls. DEAN’s knife ends up on the floor some distance from him.

GUY:
What time did I ask you to be here? What time did I ask you to be here?!

GUY’S INTERN breaks the devil’s trap with his foot. SAM is unconscious. GUY appears in front of DEAN, who gets to his feet and throws holy water at GUY. GUY recoils.

DEAN:
Exorcizamus te, omnis —

GUY grabs DEAN by the throat. SAM wakes to find GUY’S INTERN advancing on him.

SAM:
Becky…run!

GARTH gets to his knees, but GUY’S INTERN sends him sprawling back to the ground with a downwards movement of his arm. GUY’S INTERN makes a twisting movement with his hand and SAM starts to choke. Then a knife protrudes through GUY’S INTERN’s chest: BECKY has stabbed him from behind. GUY’S INTERN falls to the ground.

BECKY:
Whoa.

SAM pulls the knife out of GUY’S INTERN and tosses it to DEAN, who holds it against GUY’s throat. GUY releases DEAN.

DEAN:
How many deals you got cooking in this town, Madoff?

GUY:
Fifteen.

DEAN:
Yeah, well, call them off, or I’ll cut my own loophole in your throat.

GUY:
Oh, crap.

DEAN:
Yeah, you said it. You’re in a world —

CROWLEY:
Hello, boys.

DEAN glances behind him.

DEAN:
Oh, crap.

DEAN moves around GUY and holds the knife against his throat from behind.

CROWLEY:
Sam, mazel tov. Who’s the lucky lady?

BECKY:
You’re Crowley!

CROWLEY:
And you’re — well, I’m sure you have a wonderful personality, dear.

DEAN:
Ah, another step, and I’ll Colombian necktie your little friend here.

CROWLEY:
Please, don’t let him get off that easy.

GUY:
Sir, I don’t think that you —

CROWLEY:
I know exactly what you’ve been doing. A little birdie named Jackson [GUY glances at GUY’S INTERN, dead on the floor] sold you out, e-mailed all the juicy deets to my suggestion box.

CROWLY looks at JACKSON/GUY’S INTERN.

CROWLEY:
I assume… That’s my whistle-blower? Shame. Had a future. Unfortunately, you don’t.

GUY:
I was just —

CROWLEY:
There’s only one rule — make a deal, keep it.

GUY:
Well, technically, I didn’t —

CROWLEY:
There’s a reason we don’t call our chits in early — consumer confidence. This isn’t Wall Street! This is Hell! We have a little something called integrity. This gets out, who’ll deal with us? Nobody! Then where are we?

GUY:
I don’t know.

CROWLEY:
That’s right. You don’t. Because you’re a stupid, shortsighted little prat. Now, hand the jackass over. I’ll cancel every deal he’s made.

DEAN:
What are you gonna do with him?

CROWLEY:
Make an example of him. Fair trade, right? We all go our separate ways. No harm done.

SAM:
What, out of the goodness of your heart?

CROWLEY:
Years of demons nipping at your heels, haven’t seen one for months. Wonder why?

DEAN:
We’ve been a little busy.

CROWLEY:
Hunting Leviathan — yes, I know. That’s why I told my lads to stay clear of you meatheads.

SAM:
So, what do you know about —

CROWLEY:
Too much. You met that dick yet? Smuggest tub of goo since Mussolini. I hate the bastards. Squash ’em all, please. I’ll stay clear.

DEAN:
Rip up the contracts first.

CROWLEY snaps his fingers.

CROWLEY:
Done… and done. Your turn.

GUY:
No, no, no, no. Let —

DEAN shoves GUY towards CROWLEY.

CROWLEY:
Pleasure, gentlemen.

CROWLEY and GUY disappear. GARTH gets to his feet.

GARTH:
What’d I miss?

ACT FIVE

INT. BECKY’S APARTMENT – DAY

SAM is signing an annulment. He slides it across the table to BECKY.

BECKY:
It… it wasn’t all bad, right?

SAM looks at BECKY unsmilingly.

SAM:
Okay, y-you did save my life, and for that, thanks.

BECKY:
So, I’ll see you again?

SAM:
Yeah, probably not.

BECKY’s face falls and she signs the annulment as DEAN and GARTH look on.

SAM:
Becky, look. You’re not a loser, okay? You’re a good person, a-and you’ve got… a lot of… e-energy. So, you know, just do your thing, whatever that is, and the right guy will find you.

GARTH is looking hopefully at BECKY.

DEAN (to GARTH):
No. No.

EXT. ALLEYWAY – DAY

DEAN and SAM are leaning on the back of the Dodge and GARTH is standing next to his vehicle.

DEAN:
Well, buddy, I got to say, man — you, uh… you don’t suck.

DEAN reaches out and pats GARTH on the arm.

GARTH:
Thank you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Well…

GARTH envelopes DEAN in a hug. DEAN awkwardly pats him on the back.

DEAN:
Oh. Yeah. All right, that’s — thank you.

GARTH steps back and waves goodbye.

DEAN:
Take care. (to SAM) Wow.

SAM:
Aww, you made a fwiend.

DEAN:
Uh-uh.

SAM:
Look, man, uh… When I was all dosed up, I-I said some crap.

DEAN:
Oh, you mean, she — she wasn’t your soulmate?

SAM:
Shut up. I mean, I do need you watching my back. Obviously.

DEAN:
Yeah, when, uh, crazy groupies attack.

SAM:
You know what I mean.

DEAN:
You know, I got to say, man… For a whack-job, you really pulled it together.

SAM:
That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me. Look, don’t be too impressed, man. It’s still a Denver scramble up here. I just know my way around the plate now.

DEAN:
I’m just saying. It’s stupid to think that you need me around all the time. You’re a grown-up.

SAM:
Right.

DEAN:
You’re a hike-in-the-desert, hippie-douche grown-up.

SAM:
Dude, I was camping. You camp.

DEAN:
Yeah, whatever. Hippie.

DEAN walks to the driver’s door and SAM to the passenger door of the Dodge.

SAM:
You know what, though? Seriously? It might be nice.

DEAN:
What?

SAM:
I mean, you basically have been looking out for me your whole life. Now you finally get to take care of yourself. About time, huh?

DEAN:
Yeah.

SAM gets into the car. DEAN stands a moment longer.

DEAN:
Right.

They drive away.

END

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Sofia

Χάζευα πολλά χρόνια το Supernatural στην τηλεόραση χωρίς να ξέρω ακριβώς τι είναι, αλλά δεν είχα κάτσει ποτέ να τη δω ολόκληρη. Όταν το έκανα ήταν λίγο ανάποδο αφού είδα την 8η σεζόν πρώτα και μετά την έπιασα απ’την αρχή. Την λάτρεψα αμέσως και ήταν αυτή που με εισήγαγε στον μαγικό κόσμο των ξένων σειρών. Ανακάλυψα το Supernatural Greece λίγους μήνες αργότερα και μπήκα στην ομάδα σχεδόν αμέσως. Όσες σειρές και να δω, καλύτερες ή χειρότερες, το Supernatural θα είναι πάντα το NO.1 στην καρδιά μου. Επίσης δεν θα καταφέρω ποτέ να διαλέξω ανάμεσα στο τρίο Ντιν/ Σαμ/ Καστιέλ.

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