( colligo ¬ get collected ) → network.

The library was a nice touch. What, a metaphor for that 'This is Your Life' shit?

What the fuck?

Huh...

I'm hallucinating No...I'm dead. Yeah. Definitely dead.

Very tasteful Hell, we've got here.

They give presents. That's always a plus.

Where the fuck am I?

( God )

So, just so we're all clear:

This is not Hell.

Anyone with any sort of common sense would have, of course, already realized this fact for one simple reason.

Hell isn't this creative.

Nor would they keep the ruse going for quite so long. They're all rather scatterbrained and always so very focused on the next thing, after all.

Now. Are we all clear? Any questions or confusion that should be addressed? Or can we kindly go back to our regularly scheduled, fairly mundane, existence and enjoy the small break in the bloody awful weather we've been stuck with as of late?

You guys can thank one meddlesome Principality and one potential Michael-vessel, for this.

Dean and Castiel. The ones who haven't talked to me yet.

We should chat.


[ooc: although celestial beings/demons/etc. can typically read strikeouts if they so choose, as chuck is god, the strikeout is solely there for ooc amusement and cannot be read by anyone.]

[Dean classic]

Dean, there is another me. He is...

What's going on?

I swear to God, Parkman, if this is you, I will shoot you in the kneecap the second I get out. Daphne was not my fault!

Seriously?

The medieval soldiers were a tad overkill. Points for the initiative, minus five for the costumes. Idiots damn near broke my hand. No points, for that.

Hello?

What is this?

Where am I?

Is anyone there?

Hello?

The bloody hell is this?

Bloody rude, that's what it is.

The more I walk around, the less I'm starting to think this is just Prongs' idea of a a ridiculously elaborate prank... Anyone care to enlighten me on where the hell I am?

I bet it's the Death Eaters. That would be bloody typical...