Archive of Our Own

(Paddy's Bar is . . . well, not hopping, but there's a fair crowd, huddled in little bunches at various tables. DEE is behind the bar, talking to DENNIS and MAC. All we can hear is mindless bickering.

Over in the corner, SAM and DEAN sit at a booth, discussing a case.)

DEAN: Right, so we're definitely thinking spirit.

SAM: It makes sense, the pattern's all laid out right there. Should be a straight forward salt and burn.

DEAN: I don't know, man. This crap is boring, and Bela's getting further and further away --

SAM: And last time we got close to her, we ended up in jail.

DEAN: Shaddup. . . .

(The camera pulls back as DEAN lifts his beer for a drink, then leans over the table. The noise of the bar crowd gets louder, so we can't hear the rest of their conversation. But we do see CHARLIE, who's been hanging out at the pool table nearby. By his expression, he's clearly heard every word the brothers have said. He hurries over to the bar.)

DEE: And I'm telling you that there's no way a goat would really --

DENNIS: Right, and who knows more about animal husbandry here? The failed actress? I don't think so.

DEE: It's not a matter of animal husbandy, Dennis, it's just size. How would a goat even --

MAC: Dee, Dee, Dee, you have such little faith, you've got to --

CHARLIE: Guys, guys --

DENNIS: That's right, faith. Where's your faith, Dee?

DEE: Faith. In a goat and a --

CHARLIE: Guys! This is important!

MAC: What do you think, Charlie, would a goat and a --

CHARLIE: We have a ghost!

(DEE, MAC, and DENNIS fall silent. CHARLIE has his hands out and flails them wildly. DEE, MAC, and DENNIS exchange glances.)

DEE: Did he just say --

MAC: Not ghost, Charlie, goat. You know, the thing with the beard and the horns --

CHARLIE: I know the difference between a ghost and a goat! We have a ghost!

DENNIS: Right. And how did you come to this little realization?

CHARLIE: Those two guys over there, I heard them --

DEE: You know, it would explain a lot. I swear, every time I come in here, we have less and less beer. . . .

MAC: A beer-drinking ghost. I can see that,

DENNIS: Actually, I'm pretty sure that's just Frank.

DEE: Ohhhh, right. (She smirks at Charlie) Sorry, Charlie, no ghost. It's just Dad.

CHARLIE: Would you listen for a second?! Those two guys were just talking about it! We have a ghost!

DEE: Don't be stupid, Charlie. There's no such thing as --

CHARLIE: Oh yeah? I heard them. Flickering lights. Smell of -- of ozone. Scratching in the walls. That's all ghost stuff!

DENNIS: No, that's because Dee didn't pay the electric bill last month.

DEE: Hey, I don't pay the bills, that's --

MAC: What does ozone actually smell like?

DENNIS: I think it's kinda like rotten eggs.

MAC: Charlie smells like that all the time.

CHARLIE: I do not!

DENNIS: And the scratching is just rats.

DEE: We have rats?

DENNIS: Of course we do. What kind of bar doesn't have --

MAC: Bet the goat would sleep with a rat,

DEE: What is it with you and goats?

CHARLIE: I don't smell like ozone!

DENNIS: And besides, what ghost would we have around here? Those guys are just drunk.

MAC: And crazy.

DENNIS: That's right, drunk and crazy. We get guys like that in here all the time.

DEE: They don't seem that crazy to me,

DENNIS: You're just saying that because they hit on you.

MAC: They hit on Dee? Well, there you go. They must be cra --

DEE: Okay, first, a guy does not have to be crazy to hit on me --

CHARLIE: Well, maybe a little crazy, I mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?

DEE: -- and second, he was not hitting on me. He was very nice.

DENNIS: That's only because he wanted into your pants.

DEE: He does not! And what's so wrong with my pants?

MAC: You don't really want us to answer that.

DENNIS: Hey, you know, crazy drunks in the bar might not be good. It could hurt business.

MAC: What are you talking about? We love crazy drunks. They buy more beer.

DEE: They would probably buy more beer.

DENNIS: But they'd trash the place.

CHARLIE: This place gets trashed every night.

DEE: Well, not every night.

MAC: What exactly did they say, Charlie? Because we've gotta know if we've got crazy drunks in our bar.

DENNIS: That's right. It's important.

CHARLIE: You wanna know?

DENNIS: We want to know

MAC: We really want to know.

DEE: No we don't.

CHARLIE: You really wanna know? . . . Well, too bad. I'm gonna hunt this ghost all by myself. So there!

(The camera cuts back to SAM and DEAN at their table. We still can't hear everything they're saying, but by the way SAM is gesturing, it's a fair bet that DEAN's come up with some crazy plan that he doesn't approve of. Jump cut back to the bar, which DEE is now leaning over. She, MAC, and DENNIS are all now peering intently at SAM and DEAN)

DEE: They don't look crazy to me -- they look hot, but not crazy,

DENNIS: It's always the ones who don't look crazy that are the worst.

MAC: That's right. It's a proven fact.

DEE: Right. By that logic, everyone who doesn't look crazy is a psycho.

MAC: For all you know. I mean, take Charlie.

DENNIS: What about Charlie?

MAC: Well, Charlie doesn't look crazy. And here he is, ranting about us having a ghost.

DEE: Actually, Charlie looks a little crazy.

DENNIS: Charlie definitely looks crazy.

MAC: You're crazy.

DEE: Actually, those guys look kinda familiar.

DENNIS: . . . Yeah, you know, they do. Mac, go see what they're saying.

MAC: What? Why do I have to go? Why don't you go?

DENNIS: Because I'm sitting down.

MAC: So am I!

DENNIS: I sat down first!

MAC: Dee's not sitting down, she should go!

DEE: Hello, tending the bar here,

DENNIS: Oh, like you can't take a break.

DEE: No, I can't. You know why I can't? Because you both suck as bartenders.

MAC: I don't suck!

DENNIS: You suck a little,

MAC: I'm better than you are,

DEE: He is.

DENNIS: He is not! I'll prove it. Dee, get out from behind the bar.

DEE: Hmmm, let me think -- no.

MAC: Good thing, too, because I woulda whooped your ass at bartending.

DENNIS: Please, I can whoop your ass any day of the week.

MAC: Oh yeah? Prove it.

DENNIS: I will!

MAC: Yeah, right.

DEE: How?

DENNIS: I'll -- I'll go listen in on those guys. And I'll be sneakier and listen better than either of you could.

MAC: Oh yeah? I'm gonna go listen in, too!

(Jump cut back to SAM and DEAN's booth. SAM is scowling at DEAN, who's cheerfully finishing his beer.)

SAM: Why do I always have to break down the wall?

DEAN: Someone's gotta be waiting with the shot gun, dude,

(Pull back to show DENNIS by the pool table, chalking his cue. The entire top of the cue is greenish white with chalk. He's apparently been at this for awhile. MAC is sitting in the booth behind SAM and DEAN, pretending to take sips from an empty beer mug. They exchange glances.

Cut back to the bar, where DENNIS and MAC hurry up.)

DENNIS: They've got guns.

MAC: Definitely crazy.

DENNIS: Who brings guns on a ghost hunt?

MAC: Crazy people, that's who,

DEE: Oh my god. What if they're not ghost hunters?

DENNIS: You're right. Maybe they're white supremecists.

MAC: White -- where do you get these ideas?

DENNIS: Well, they are white,

DEE: And that means they're white supremecists?

MAC: They're talking about guns.

DENNIS: And kinda rednecky.

DEE: Wow, you two are so racist.

DENNIS: What? How -- how is that racist?

MAC: They're white. You can't be racist against white people,

DENNIS: That's ri --

(He's interrupted by CHARLIE bursting back onto the screen, holding a coat hanger in each hand.)

CHARLIE: There, there, you see?

DENNIS: Woah, buddy, what're you doing with those things?

CHARLIE: You see? They're not crossed!

MAC: Dude, what are you --

CHARLIE: Divining rods! They're supposed to cross and they're not crossed. That's a sign of supernatural activity!

DEE: Where do you get this stuff?

CHARLIE: I saw it on TV.

DENNIS: That's great, Charlie, why don't you go search for water somewhere else?

MAC: No, no, I think I've heard of this.

DEE: What are you talking about?

MAC: Charlie's right. I've read about this. We do have a ghost!

DEE: We don't have a ghost!

DENNIS: There have been flickering lights,

MAC: And the place does smell.

DEE: Okay, fine, who would be haunting us, huh? No one's even -- oh my god.

DENNIS: What? What? Do you see something?

DEE: The dead guy!

MAC: The dead guy!

CHARLIE: What dead guy?

DEE: The dead guy! Remember? In that booth over there!

CHARLIE: The dead guy's haunting us! Oh my god!

DENNIS: The dead guy wouldn't haunt us.

MAC: How do you know?

DENNIS: We returned him to his family. That hot chick, remember? Why would he haunt us?

CHARLIE: I dunno, 'cause he died in our bar?

DEE: Who else could it be?

MAC: Unless . . . you don't think --

DENNIS: I'm afraid to ask.

MAC: Dumpster Baby?

DEE: Don't be stupid. Dumpster Baby isn't dead,

MAC: How do you know? We only know Child Services took him away. He could have died and come back!

DEE: Oooo, scary, the ghost of a dumpster baby.

FRANK: Maybe it's your mother.

(The gang falls silent, turning to look at him. FRANK shrugs.)

FRANK: Charlie told me what's going on. I think it's her.

DENNIS: Why would Mom --

DEE: That bitch!

MAC: It makes total sense.

DEE: Charlie, how do we get rid of her?

CHARLIE: How the hell should I know?

DEE: You're the one with the divining rods!

CHARLIE: Oh, so now I have to be some kind of ghost expert?

MAC: An exorcism!

DENNIS: We're not priests.

MAC: Please. You just have to be Catholic.

DEE: That doesn't even make sense.

FRANK: Why not?

DEE: What if it's a Jewish ghost?

MAC: Dee, please. This is an Irish pub.

DEE: So?

MAC: So, everyone knows there's no Jews in Ireland!

FRANK: Besides, your mother wasn't Jewish.

DENNIS: Hey, we don't know it's Mom.

FRANK: Alright. Mac, you go look up exorcisms online. Charlie, go help him out. Dee, you go flirt with the ghost hunters to get more information.

DEE: Why do I have to go?

FRANK: You're the girl. Go use your feminine wiles.

DEE: No. I don't think I'm going to do that.

FRANK: It's not like Dennis can do it,

DEE: Then we won't do it at all! Besides, I'm tending the bar.

FRANK: Dennis can do that.

DENNIS: That's right, I can.

DEE: Dennis sucks at tending the bar.

MAC: He does.

DENNIS: Yeah, well, Dee doesn't have any feminine wiles.

FRANK: Fine. Mac, Charlie, internet. Dee, Dennis, watch for ghostly signs.

CHARLIE: What are you gonna do?

DENNIS: Yeah, Frank, what are you going to do?

DEE: I'd like to know, too.

FRANK: Would you stop yabbering and get to it already?

MAC: Why do I have the boring work?

CHARLIE: I think I need a gun for this.

DEE: You don't need a gun. Jesus!

DENNIS: No, he might --

DEAN (off screen): Excuse me.

(The camera pulls back to show DEAN leaning against the bar, eyebrow raised, empty beer bottle in hand. The gang stares at him silently. He clears his throat.)

DEAN: Could I get another couple beers, please? If you're all not too busy.

FRANK: Of course, sir! Dee, get the man his beers. (He leans in close) And show off your titties a little.

DEE: I will not. (She pulls a couple of bottles from a fridge under the bar.) Here you go. (She gives a smile. Dean smiles back.)

DEAN (saluting with the beer bottles): Thanks, babe.

(The camera pulls in on the gang.)

DENNIS: You see? That was flirting.

DEE: That was one word.

FRANK: You shoulda shown him your titties.

DENNIS: You don't want to scare him off,

DEE: He wasn't flirting, and you two are disgusting. Anyway, I'm still not convinced he's not crazy.

DENNIS: I thought you said he wasn't crazy.

DEE: That's before you said they were talking about guns!

DEAN (clears his throat offscreen. The camera pulls back to show him still leaning against the bar): I'm, uh. Still right here.

(The gang stares at him, then DEE smiles stiffly.

Cut to MAC and CHARLIE in the office on the computer.)

CHARLIE: Salt!

MAC: Salt?

CHARLIE: Right there. It says salt. What else does it say?

MAC: Uh . . . (He points at the screen, reading silently to himself for a moment, his mouth moving) . . . it says ghosts and demons may be deterred by salt and iron.

CHARLIE: Salt!

MAC: We have salt.

CHARLIE: We have tons of salt.

MAC: I wonder if margarita salt counts.

CHARLIE: Salt is salt, dude -- wait, what's that?

MAC: What's what?

CHARLIE: That picture. That's them!

MAC: Hey, wait, you're right. (He peers closer, clicking through several links, then his eyes go wide.) Oh my god.

CHARLIE: What? What?

MAC: Oh my god. We've got to tell the others.

(Cut to the bar. DEAN is no longer there, but DENNIS, DEE, and FRANK are all still arguing. CHARLIE and MAC come rushing out.)

MAC: Guys! Guys! You gotta see this!

(CHARLIE is waving a piece of paper in the air.)

CHARLIE: They're dead!

DENNIS: Wait, what?

FRANK: Gimme that. (He grabs the paper from CHARLIE.) They're dead!

DEE: What are you talking about? (She grabs the paper from FRANK) These are mug shots. Sam and Dean Winches -- oh my god! That's where I recognized them! These guys are on the FBI most wanted list!

MAC: You read the FBI most wanted list?

DENNIS: Never mind that, is there a reward?

DEE: It says here that they were killed in that explosion in the jail in Colorado three weeks ago.

DENNIS: But if they were in an explosion how can they be --

DEE: They must have --

(The next two lines are spoken simultaneously. Well, even more simultaneously than all the other lines so far.)

DEE: -- faked their deaths!

CHARLIE: -- returned from the grave!

DEE: What? Charlie, that doesn't even --

MAC: No, no, no, it makes perfect sense!

DENNIS: What are you talking about?

MAC: Think about it. It says there that these guys were psycho killers, right?

DEE: Uh, yeah,

MAC: So, psycho people kill people, then psycho ghosts would kill --

FRANK: Other ghosts! Of course!

DENNIS: I can see that.

DEE: You can?

DENNIS: But that means . . . they're after Mom!

FRANK: Great! That bitch'll finally get what she deserves!

DEE: No, no, we've gotta stop them. They could go after other ghosts. Good ghosts.

MAC: She's right. We'd be heroes.

CHARLIE: We'd be ghost hunters.

DENNIS: We could get on TV.

CHARLIE: Like the ghost hunters.

FRANK: It'd be great for the bar.

DEE: You're all insane.

DENNIS: Oh, so you don't want to get on TV?

DEE: I never said that,

FRANK: Did you find out how to get rid of a ghost?

MAC: What? Oh, yeah, yeah. It said that you had to salt and burn them.

DENNIS: Salt?

CHARLIE: Salt.

DEE: Ghosts are afraid of salt?

CHARLIE: And burning.

FRANK: Sounds good to me. I'll go get the kerosene.

DEE: You can't be serious.

FRANK: We're gonna be rich!

CHARLIE: Uh, guys?

MAC: We're gonna be famous!

CHARLIE: Guys.

DENNIS: We're gonna be on TV

DEE: Not unless we move fast,

FRANK; What are you talking about?

CHARLIE and DEE: They're leaving.

(DENNIS, MAC, and FRANK all turn. Sure enough, SAM and DEAN have left some cash on the table and are heading for the door.)

FRANK: We gotta follow them! Come on guys!

(FRANK, DENNIS, MAC, and CHARLIE all move to follow. DEE scoffs)

DEE: What about the bar? You guys can't go without me!

FRANK: Fine, we'll close.

DEE: Right. Closing time, everybody! You don't have to go home but you can't stay here!

(Cut to: An apartment building. It's looking pretty derelict, but, really, no more so than the one CHARLIE and FRANK live in. SAM and DEAN are moving down the hall, weapons drawn and held low, aiming for apartment number 42.)

DEAN: This is it, Sammy, look alive.

SAM: God, it definitely smells like someone died in here,

(DEAN stops in front of the door, lifts his foot, and is blocked by SAM.)

SAM: Dude, people live here.

DEAN: So?

SAM: So. . . .

(He holds up the lockpick kit. DEAN rolls his eyes, but steps back to let SAM get to work. He makes short work of the door, and they slip inside. The door shuts behind them. Several moments later, the Gang comes down the hallway.)

DENNIS (whispering loudly): Are you sure they went this way?

FRANK: Positive. This is just the kind of building you'd expect to find ghost serial killers in.

DEE: Hey, I think I used to live here. . . .

CHARLIE: Ohhhh yeah. I remember that, that cute little one yellow apartment.

MAC: It wasn't yellow, it was moldy.

DEE: What? I couldn't afford anything better.

FRANK: Shut up, all of you. I think they went in here.

(He gestures to apartment number 43.)

FRANK: I know just how to get it open.

(He lifts his foot.)

DENNIS: Dude, dude, you can't do it like that, you have to do it like this.

(He lifts his foot.)

MAC: You're both wrong. Aim for the door jam

DEE: I think that's the side the hinges are on.

CHARLIE: Shoot the doorknob.

DENNIS: Great idea, Charlie, shoot it with what?

CHARLIE: Frank's got his gun.

FRANK (holds up the gun): Stand back.

(He shoots the door handle. A moment later, he opens the door.)

DENNIS: Alright, lets do this.

(They all file in, doing a fair impression of a spy movie. The hallway is silent for a few moments, then the door to apartment 42 opens, and DEAN walks out, followed by SAM.)

DEAN: Well, that's done.

SAM: I can't believe we didn't even set off the smoke alarms.

DEAN: There weren't any.

SAM: Man, and I thought we lived in some dumps. . ..

(They carry on like this as they head off down the hallway. It's silent again for a few moments, then a voice can be heard from apartment 43.)

VOICE: What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!

FRANK (off screen): It's okay, it's okay, we're ghost hunters!

VOICE: I'll give you ghost hunters!

(Everyone's voices can be heard shouting at the same time, then there's a gun shot, and silence.)

(End credits)