CROWLEY

( . . . louder slurping of their juicebox. staring down crowley like the fuckign Freak they are )

“It’s a great name. Thank you.” ( very casually sipping from a juicebox ! )

“First half of my name.”

“No. There is not. I hold a deep hatred for my other names.” ( thinking … lightbulb ! literally , a lightbulb appears above her head ) “HERE. Here, this works—” ( a beetle starts flying repeatedly into crowley’s face )

( staring at crowley. Murderous Intent ) “I can’t. Say it. I’m Cursed. I’m being Dead Serious.”

“alwaysfuckinghappensohmygodCAN’T SAY IT.” ( why is he mean )

“Oh my Gooddddduhhh.” ( he stares at the ukulele. grabs the handle. smashes it against the ground. ) “Who cares. Fuck you.” “ ” “Who are you?”

“YOU TRY. JACKASS.” ( he chucks the ukulele at crowley Rude )

“OKAY. Okay. Jackass.” ( a string snaps in her hands ! ) “FUCK.”

“…Okay. Yeah. Pervert.” ( says this fucking guy. they continue trying to tune their ukulele )

( squint. the Questioner ) “What do You want.”

( pause. head turn 90-180-270 however many degrees wherever crowley is to Stare at him. )

( trying to tune a ukulele. failing. miserably. he sounds like shit )

you idiot. we could've been… us.

you idiot. we could've been… us.