Ironic Supernatural Fan Fiction

Sam's Haircut

You walk around your uncle Elon's shady hair salon, thankful that he gave you a job there for the summer. You see a tall man with fairly long brown hair walk in, who introduces himself as Sam, and his brother Dean is behind him.

"I'll just get a trim," Sam says, ignoring the line of impatient people waiting to get their hair cut at the seedy "Hair Sa-Elon X".

"I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to wait in line," you say. You silently admire how close these brothers seem to be, trying not to think about the abrupt death of your siblings after visiting Uncle Elon's house.

He sits in silence in the grotty chair, adjusting his wired AirPods to signify that he can't, or won't, listen. You've had enough of this guy. You see your lethal drugs in your pocket, but dismiss your sinister thoughts. You pull out your limited edition yee-girl razor and decide to give him a buzz cut. You give him a blindfold and for some reason he starts to unbutton his shirt and reaches for his belt. You stop him, but now his brother Dean is mad.

"Ok just a quick trim and you're out of here," you say, while cutting off big chunks of his hair off. You hold the locks of hair and slip them into a plastic bag. They have no idea how much this stuff is worth on the black market. You give him a gravestone on the side of his head, honoring Robbie Rotten.

You finally finish and Sam looks in the mirror, and starts to grope his freshly shaven head.

"W-what did you do?" he stutters. He falls to the ground, keeping his hands on his head. While in fetal position, big, fat tears start to roll down his face. You look at him in disgust. He starts to growl with a bit of a hissing undertone. His eyes turn black and his tears turn into ectoplasm.

"Rut-ro," you say.

You look down at Sam's wrist. "I-is that what I think it is?" you question.

"Why yes," Sam says, licking his crusty lips, "the infinity gauntlet." He caresses the gauntlet and gives it a little lick. You watch as Sam dramatically closes his fist in slow-motion. He clenches his fist and looks at you in satisfaction. It is in that moment the half the world's population is dead. But to your surprise, Sam himself starts to crumble to dust.

"What?!" he shrieks, "but, but I didn't finish writing my Wincest fan fiction!" He pulls out his phone and starts vigorously typing on WattPad, he would not let his Wincest fan fiction, "Brothers with Benefits", not have a satisfying ending. "Please," he says, tears streaming down his face, "publish it for me." He types his last word, but he is dead before he can publish it. You consider if you should honor his dying wish, but then you remember what an edgy gal you are. Doing the work of the gods, you crush his phone under your shoe.