Work Text:
“Who’s next?” Becky repeated.
No one made a move to volunteer. While they all had no problem shitting over Dean’s story, now that they knew it would be read aloud to EVERYONE, they all stared at their feet and grumbled incoherently.
“Well, if no one wants to volunteer, I’ll just pick at random again.”
Becky shuffled the stack of papers she held and picked one from the middle. It was single sheet of paper and at first it looked as if there was nothing written on it. Then Becky realized she was holding it upside down and backwards. She righted the paper and read the story aloud.
“No.”
“No?’ several of the audience parroted.
“No,” she repeated. “It just says ‘No.’ Who wrote this?”
No one spoke up, but slowly everyone’s eyes drifted to the man dressed in a black silk suit.
“What are you looking at?” Crowley spat.
Everyone looked away again.
“Well, okay,” Becky laughed nervously. “Who’s next?”