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Björn & Lirr

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Watch me whip, now watch me neighneigh

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Alexander Hamilton.... My name is Alexander Hamilton.... And there's a million things I haven't done- but just you wait, just you waiiiittttt! When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt ridden, two years later see Alex and his mother bedridden- half dead, sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick (and Alex got better but his mother went quick) Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide; left him with nothin' but ruined pride, somethin' new inside- a voice sayin' "Alex, you gotta fend for yourself" he started retreatin' rereadin' every treatise on the shelllllfff-! THERE WOULDA BEEN NUTHIN LEFT TA DO FOR SOMEONE LESS ASTUTE, HE WOULDA BEEN DEAD OR DESTITUTE WITHOUT A CENT OF RESTITUTION; STARTED WORKIN, CLERKIN FOR HIS LATE MOTHER'S LANDLORD, TRADIN SUGARCANE AND RUM AND ALL THE THINGS HE CANT AFFORD SCAMMIN FOR EVERY BOOK HE CAN GET HIS HANDS ON, PLANNIN FOR THE FUTURE SEE HIM NOW AS HE STANDS ON THE PROW OF A SHIP HEADIN FOR A NEW LAND, IN NEW YORK YOU CAN BE A NEW MAN (in New York you can be a new man, in New York you can be a new man, in New yooorkkkkk, New Yooooooooorrkkkkkkkkk) JUST YOU WAIT (Alexander Hamilton- we are waiting in the wings for you....You could never back down, You never learned to take your tiiiiime, Oh, Alexander Hamilton- When America sings for you, Will they know what you overcame? Will they know you rewrote your game? ) The world will never be the same, oh~ The ship is in the harbor now, See if you can spot him; Another immigrant comin' up from the bottom! His enemies destroyed his rep, America forgot him; We fought with him- Me, I died for him- Me, I trusted him- Me, I loved him- And me....I’m the damn fool that shot him! There’s a million things I haven’t done~ But just you waaaaaiitttttt! What’s your name, man? Alexander Hamilton!


On April 21st, 1967, the hundred-millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Jamesville. A blue, two-door caprice. There was a big ceremony, speeches... the lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But the should have. Because this 1967 chevrolet impala would turn out to be the most important car- no, the most important object- in pretty much the whole universe. She was first owned by Sal Moriarty; An alcoholic with two ex wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends he'd drive around, giving bibles to the poor. "Gettin' folks right for judgement day", that's what he said. Sam and Dean don't know any of this, but if they did, I bet they'd smile. After Sal died, she ended up at rainbow motors- A used car lot in lawrence- Where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that's where our story begins. Here's where it ends... The impala, of course, has all the things other cars have, and a few things they don't- The army man sam crammed into the ashtray- it's still stuck there. The legos Dean shoved into the vents; to this day, heat comes on, you can hear em' rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs. Really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed. 'Cause it's the blemishes that make her beautiful. The devil doesn't know or care what kind of car the boys drive. In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day- sometimes a week if they were lucky. They'd pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother. They could go anywhere, and do anything. They drove a thousand miles for an Ozzie show- two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood and watch the stars. For hours... without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls; but they were never, in fact, homeless. That's a good line. Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning- but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch, there's always gonna be holes... And since its the ending, its all supposed to add up to something- I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass. This is the last Dean and Bobby will see of each other for a very long time. And for the record, this time next week, Bobby will be hunting a Rougarou outside of Dayton. But not Dean. dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back. But he's not gonna do either. Because he made a promise. So what's it all add up to? It's hard to say. But me- I'd say this was a test. For Same and Dean. Up against angels, devils, destiny, and God himself. They made their own choice. They chose family. And, well, isn't that kinda the whole point? No doubt, endings are hard. But then again, nothing really ever ends, does it?


You know, I've...I've been here for a very long time. And I remember many things. I remember being at a shoreline; watching a little grey fish heave itself up on the beach, and an older brother saying, "don't step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish." I remember the Tower of Babel... All 37 feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time... And when it fell, they howled 'divine wrath!' But come on - dried dung can only be stacked so high. I remember Cain and Abel... David and Goliath... Sodom and Gomorrah. And, of course, I remember the most remarkable event - remarkable, because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys, an old drunk, and a fallen angel. The Grand Story. And we ripped up the ending... and the rules...vAnd destiny... leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Which is all well and good, except... Well, what if I've made the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know? I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you everything.