That Special Spark that Got Dick Boned.
Don't own 'em. Just love 'em. Wish ta hell I worked for Kripke.
Dick Roman, leader of the leviathan, and global CEO, had just put the final touches in place on the processing plant that would to turn the world into their giant food court. He headed down the stairs of the empty corporate offices that night feeling rather pleased with himself. Until an unusual sound stopped him in his tracks.
Shink tinka... shink tinka... shink tinka.
He turned around and saw the inexplicable sight of a giant, rainbow colored, plastic slinky gliding down the stairs behind him.
Shink tinka, shink tinka, shink tinka. The classic toy began to gain speed as it descended.
He was so absorbed in the absurd sight that he never saw the arrow until it's tip hit his chest, deep and dead center; pinning his $200.00 silk tie to him like a feathered accessory.
The slinky continued down the stairs as he there stood frozen. Roman looked from the toy and down to his chest confused as black ooze spread it's stain under his starched white shirt.
The shout rang out from the empty stairs above, next, movement caught his eye. He looked up and saw Dean Winchester stride down, cross bow cocked and aimed directly at him.
"You just got boned." And the archer let the arrow fly. A perfect head shot.
Leviathan, the beasts so appallingly strong and mean that God himself had detained them permanently in purgatory, least they destroy all of the creation He'd made; were felled that night by a child's toy and the food they sought to eat. For He had wisely neglected to give them that "spark" of playful genius He'd endowed on the humans. He knew one day that the little creatures with the big brains and thumbs were going to need it.