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My episode reaction?
Domesti-Dean with his espresso and his suspenders and his tie and his CHANGING OF THE ROCK MUSIC TO NPR and his DIETING TIPS.
Z says: "THAT'S NOT RIIIIIIGHT."
"Save it for the health club, pal."
ASAKLKDHFKL!!!
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens.
Dude, I feel like The Office just got sexy. AND THAT'S EVEN MORE NOT RIGHT.
Oh my God, Sam stuck in Cubicle Hell. AS TECH SUPPORT. YOU GUYS. THE FIC. IT DOESN'T WRITE ITSELF, IT'S DONE WRIT.
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens.
I think there's an ordinance somewhere about that much yellow polo shirt material in one place.
HE DOESN'T EVEN FIT INTO HIS CUBICLE.
OH MY GOD HEAD IN THE MICROWAVE DONTFUCKINGDOITOMIGUU-AAAAAHHHHHHH!
... Dean, are you wearing lip gloss?
OMGWTF, DOBBY?! IN THE MEN'S ROOM? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens. DEAR GOD, DOES IT SHARPEN.
"So, you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of... psychic?"
Oh, S1, ilu.
Sam: "I am dying to check this out, right now."
Dean: ::epiphany look:: "Right?"
Boys. Even in Office Space-Land, they're still our boys.
"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research."
... Then again, maybe not. O_O
ZOMG, GHOSTFACERS. YES, THIS.
::snerk:: Economy jab. ::lolz::
"Winchesters still suck, though."
Eck. Dear SPN, please do not go all Resident Evil on the Rent-A-Cop's legs, mkay?
Elevator: ::GUILLOTINES::
Z: ::facepalm::
Sam: "Think about it. What if this is not real? What if we took the blue pill?"
(not a real quote, I just think that a Matrix line would not have gone amiss)
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens.
Sam: ::WHALES PHONE INTO OBLIVION::
Z: YES.
Boss-Man: "In eight to ten short years, you, too, can have a place in corporate hell."
Dean's Mind: ::snap::
Zachariah: "Fucking FINALLY."
Dude. Zachariah. Have a care, man. Or you might replace Cass as my favoritest angel.
Nm, too late. Voices of reason get me, every time.
Dude, show. You just said everything fandom has been DYING to say, AND YOU MADE US LOVE YOU FOR IT.
You may not be ready to fix our Sam, BUT YOU GAVE US BACK OUR DEAN.
SERIOUSLY. I can't brain anymore, you do not even realize.
SHOW.
AND UPON FURTHER REFLECTION:
"I need to see you in my office. Now."
ASKJFSL-WUT!!!!
Smith & Wesson. How, how can the world contain this awesome? IT DOESN'T SEEM POSSIBLE.
Bob and Ellen and JOE and MADISON.
SMITH. AND. WESSON.
NO, I CAN'T ACTUALLY GET PAST THAT.
::dissolves into dolphin noises::
Domesti-Dean with his espresso and his suspenders and his tie and his CHANGING OF THE ROCK MUSIC TO NPR and his DIETING TIPS.
Z says: "THAT'S NOT RIIIIIIGHT."
"Save it for the health club, pal."
ASAKLKDHFKL!!!
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens.
Dude, I feel like The Office just got sexy. AND THAT'S EVEN MORE NOT RIGHT.
Oh my God, Sam stuck in Cubicle Hell. AS TECH SUPPORT. YOU GUYS. THE FIC. IT DOESN'T WRITE ITSELF, IT'S DONE WRIT.
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens.
I think there's an ordinance somewhere about that much yellow polo shirt material in one place.
HE DOESN'T EVEN FIT INTO HIS CUBICLE.
OH MY GOD HEAD IN THE MICROWAVE DONTFUCKINGDOITOMIGUU-AAAAAHHHHHHH!
... Dean, are you wearing lip gloss?
OMGWTF, DOBBY?! IN THE MEN'S ROOM? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens. DEAR GOD, DOES IT SHARPEN.
"So, you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of... psychic?"
Oh, S1, ilu.
Sam: "I am dying to check this out, right now."
Dean: ::epiphany look:: "Right?"
Boys. Even in Office Space-Land, they're still our boys.
"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research."
... Then again, maybe not. O_O
ZOMG, GHOSTFACERS. YES, THIS.
::snerk:: Economy jab. ::lolz::
"Winchesters still suck, though."
Eck. Dear SPN, please do not go all Resident Evil on the Rent-A-Cop's legs, mkay?
Elevator: ::GUILLOTINES::
Z: ::facepalm::
Sam: "Think about it. What if this is not real? What if we took the blue pill?"
(not a real quote, I just think that a Matrix line would not have gone amiss)
The printer, it prints. The memos, they fax. The pencil, it sharpens.
Sam: ::WHALES PHONE INTO OBLIVION::
Z: YES.
Boss-Man: "In eight to ten short years, you, too, can have a place in corporate hell."
Dean's Mind: ::snap::
Zachariah: "Fucking FINALLY."
Dude. Zachariah. Have a care, man. Or you might replace Cass as my favoritest angel.
Nm, too late. Voices of reason get me, every time.
Dude, show. You just said everything fandom has been DYING to say, AND YOU MADE US LOVE YOU FOR IT.
You may not be ready to fix our Sam, BUT YOU GAVE US BACK OUR DEAN.
SERIOUSLY. I can't brain anymore, you do not even realize.
SHOW.
AND UPON FURTHER REFLECTION:
"I need to see you in my office. Now."
ASKJFSL-WUT!!!!
Smith & Wesson. How, how can the world contain this awesome? IT DOESN'T SEEM POSSIBLE.
Bob and Ellen and JOE and MADISON.
SMITH. AND. WESSON.
NO, I CAN'T ACTUALLY GET PAST THAT.
::dissolves into dolphin noises::
