Somewhere in Kansas, in a dark secluded laboratory, a blonde was working with potions. Now, on most occasions one would say that was not a very good idea, but this blonde, this blonde was smart. Really, there probably wasn't a blonde smarter in the world, or at least she felt that way. You all might know her, in previous lives she'd gone by Meg. What did she go by now-a-days? It really didn't matter, what mattered was the substances in her grasp. Those substances, when combined correctly, would make the most horrible, disgusting thing you've ever laid eyes on. Meg flicked the hair out of her eyes, throwing her head back and letting a evil cackle reverberate from her throat, echoing in the empty room and shaking the vials in her hands. "Ahem..." she coughed, glancing in an embarrassed fashion around herself.
"Anyways, now, with these hands these... oh so beautifully smooth and evil hands, I present... terror." With a swift movement she dumped a vial of blue liquid into a container of bright pink nearly-goo, followed but a whole cup full of another liquid, this one green. The substance began to bubble over the edges and the evil cackle returned, "It's aliveeee, it's aliveeee, it's AAAAAALLLLIIIIIVVVEEE!!!!" An explosion occurred and Meg was rocketed backwards, slamming into the concrete wall behind her with a THUD! and succedent CRACK! "Aw, god dammit..." she groaned, rubbing at the back of her head, her position now crumpled on the ground, "That was her back, now I'm gonna have to get a new meat suit..." Meg's groaning and complaining was interrupted by the sound of moving feet. Wide eyed, she looked up towards the cloud of smoke now clearing from her work table.
"I... I... I did it?" she grinned, her face hopeful.
"Yeah, you did." replied a slightly child-like voice.
Meg's face dropped automatically, "Who the hell are you?" Lifiting herself off the floor she trudged over to the bench, unable to make out the figure through the smoke. "You are NOT Dean Winchester!" she screamed, fists tightening, "WHERE THE HELL IS MY EVIL DEAN WINCHESTER CLONE?!"
The figure stepped out of the smoke, proud, defiant, smirk on his face. He stood toe to toe with Meg and craned his neck all the way back to look at her, "Right, here, baby." he said smoothly, sending her a wink.
The blonde demon stared directly downward in horror at what was at her feet. A tiny... leather-clad... boot wearing... little... snarky ass... over confident... DEAN! Eyes widening in pure shock, Meg collapsed backward and passed out on the concrete. Little Dean shrugged, "Chicks."

*coma*

*can't breathe, laughing too hard*

Dean... as... little... *twitches and joins Snip in coma-land*

omg! :lmao more plz love it!

Dean stood next to Sam, grumbling impatiently and bouncing on his heels, "Sammy, come on, how long does it take to get a door open?"
Sam shot Dean a glare as he fumbled with the key to the motel room, "One second Dean, geez." After a few moments of exchanged looks of distaste Sam finally found the right key, and inserted it into the door. "Aha!" he exclaimed triumphantly as the door swung open, "See if you just had a little patien-"
Shoving past Sam, Dean entered the room, "Big brothers first." he said with a grin, "Ya know Sammy, I-" Out of nowhere a pair of rolled up socks came flying across the room, smacking Dean directly in the forehead. "HEY!" he roared before touching where he was hit and looking utterly confused, "What the hell?"
Slowly, out of the shadows, stepped a dark figure. He was gorgeous, badass, and three and a half feet tall. "Hello, Dean." said the figure in it's petite and child-like voice, "Ready to die?"
Sam's eyes widened and he stumbled backwards into the wall, "Oh God, there's TWO OF THEM!"
Dean just stood there in shock and horror, "You- you- you... WHERE DID YOU GET TINY VERSIONS OF MY CLOTHES?"
Little Dean glanced down at himself and shrugged, "Internet." With a sigh he took a few steps forward, "Enough chit chat, more death chat."
Dean frowned, "What does that even- OW!" Another pair of rolled up socks hit him in the face, "Would you stop that?"
Little Dean glared at his bigger counterpart, "Prepare to die!" and with that he sent a barrage of rolled up socks in Dean's direction, pelting the elder Winchester from all directions.
Dean raised his hands in front of his face for protection, "What the hell are you doing?" he asked when the socks stopped flying. Suddenly, something dawned on him, "You're not... you're not trying to kill me with socks, are you?" Dean prayed to God that this smaller version of him, most likely made with his own DNA, was not that extremely stupid.
Little Dean looked taken aback, his eyes darting around frantically. He reached out and picked up a shoe, lunging it a Dean's face.
Dean ducked, just missing a broken nose, "Okay, slightly more effective but still... what kind of idiot are you?"
Little Dean started to shake with anger, "You... are... such... a DICK!" he screamed before tears started streaming down his cheeks, "Why do you have to be so mean to me?" Crumpling onto the floor in a depressing heap he started to wail.
Sam, who had been watching in horror, quirked a brow over at his brother. "Dude, you made him cry."
Dean shot Sam a scowl. "Shut up." Turning his head back to Little Twin he frowned at the crying... him. "Uh, hey, Little Twin, don't cry." he said slowly, unsure what the hell was going on. He took a few steps over toward the little guy and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." he said gently.
Little Twin smacked his hand off and glared at him, "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" and with that he leaped up and fled the room, running as fast as his little legs could take him into the night.
Dean fell back against the wall, pure shock taking him over, "Oh... my..."
Sam nodded, "Yeah..." and sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on his chin in thought. "Who do you think made that thing?"
Dean and Sam exchanged glances and both spoke at the same time, "Meg."
"Only Meg would be stupid enough to try and clone me..." Dean finished.

----

After some searching Sam came upon a number he thought to be the blonde demon's.
"Hello?" Meg answered.
"Meg, it's Sam." Sam started, "What the hell?"
The demon sighed, "Okay, Winchester, seriously, It was supposed to be life sized, okay? And, ya know, smart..."
Dean snatched the phone from Sam's hand, "Well get it the hell away from me! If I get hit with another sock so help me god..."
"That thing is a freak." Meg said, "I don't want it, you keep it. I released him into the wild, I mean if he found you I give him props. So he's your problem now." and she hung up.
Dean groaned and shut the phone, "Aw, dammit."

Slowly, out of the shadows, stepped a dark figure. He was gorgeous, badass, and three and a half feet tall.

I do believe SOMEONE has a new tagline ... *falls over, giggling* Oh dear Cams ... you know, the thought of a mini-Dean does appear to stroke ones gutters in an interesting way.

My latest theory ... is ... all of him in shrinkage mode? Because ... I mean ...

"Dean Winchester has to apply for a grant to carry a lethal weapon just to legally wear pants."

If you catch my horny drift ... *shifty*

And ... OH NOES! Poor little twin ... I shall comfort him like my very own! *cuddles and tickles tummy*

hahaha :lmao: more plz awsome!!!! Dean getting hit by shoes haha! :lmao:

Oh my god - LOL!

Thats so funny and cute and heeeee!

And I agree with mindcaster, 'bout the horny mind thing... are we thinkin' that?? lol

Wow, so I got really bored so I wrote another one of these chapters... whee? lol



Dean opened the door of the impala. "You know Sam," he said over the hood of the car, "I'd like to think that the impala is sort of a great beacon, and we're two lone cowboys who-"
He lowered himself into the car and his sentence was cut short by - "GRARGH UNDERWEAR ATTACK!"
A pair of tightie whities was placed over his head. He flailed, gripping at the offending fabric. "WHAT THE HELL?!"
Sam looked on with wide eyes. "Little Dean, is that you?"
Little Dean, now dressed head to toe in what one could only call a 'gay stripper trying to look like a biker' outfit, growled and glared at the tall, oafish one. "Shut up, you bitch, you're next!"
"Will you stop trying to kill me with articles of clothing?!" Dean yelled, flinging a fist back and punching his little twin in the face. Little Dean fell backwards, gripping his bleeding nose. "You're a big sick meanie buttface!"
Sam giggled. "Heh... buttface..."
Ripping the underwear from his head, and checking to make sure his glorious hair was not mussed, he turned and glared at- "What are you wearing?!" he screeched, "My little twin can not dress like that! You're ruining my image! Argh!"
"But, Dean, what about that guy with the whip who wanted to..."
"Itoldyouthatinconfidence!"
"What's wrong with these clothes?" Little Dean frowned, putting his arms out and looking down at himself, "I look hot!"
"You look like a mini village person." Dean said.
"I'LL CUT YOU!"
"He actually likes the village people, so it's a compliment." Sam replied.
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do-"
"You know what, screw you all! I'm gonna kill you right now and get it over with!" Little Dean jumped to fighting stance, fisticuffs up and at the ready. "Come on, give me your best shot!"
"Okay!" Sam said happily.
"No!" Dean shot Sam a glare, "No one is hurting my little self. It would just be too depressing to me."
"You're pathetic!" Little Dean said, punching him in the face. His fist bounced off like a cotton ball. "This is how I killed Meg, you big sexy men, and you're next!"
"Did you just call us big sexy men?" Sam said with a knit brow.
"You killed Meg?" Dean looked shocked.
"Why did you just call us that?"
"More pressing matters, Sammy!" Dean grunted and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I killed Meg! I locked her in the room of DEATH!"
"The room... of death?" Both boys exchanged looks.
"Yeah, you know, the room filled with all the implements of death!" He shook a pair of underwear at them.
.... Dean facepalmed. "Get out of my car."
"Hey, you're just jealou-"
"OUT!"
Little Dean's lip began to wibble, eyes growing wide. "NOBODY LOVES MEH!"
Sam rolled his eyes. "God, you know that's not going to wor-"
"I'm sorry, little buddy, don't cry!" Sam looked over to see Dean, cradling his little twin to his chest and rocking him back and forth.
"Why did mother not want me?!" Little Dean shrieked.
"I don't know, I don't know." Dean soothed, tears rimming his eyes. "You poor, helpless creature."
Sam stared on with a glare. "I need a drink." he muttered, getting out of the car and slamming his door, leaving the two Deans to talk and work out their problems together with tears and hugs and lots of fluff and such.

Hey this is great. Little Mini-Dean... :rotfl And big Dean is so comforting and Sam is so disgusted with them. Just great :clap Please tell me there will be more. I gotta know what Little Twin is gonna use to try to kill Dean next - a jock strap maybe :blink:

Love this, thanks for making me smile,
Trace

Lmao!!! omg iloved it!! :rotfl
haha update soon plz!
oh my god little Dean is Freakinq awesome!

:drink :drink :drink

I like it because it make me laugh!! :lol: :lol: