rusty_armour (rusty_armour) wrote,

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The Return of the Demon Tofu: A Supernatural Adventure

Title: The Return of the Demon Tofu: A Supernatural Adventure
Author: Rusty Armour
Summary: Sam forces Dean to confront his tofu issues after he has another traumatic experience involving vegan products.
Word Count: 2,531
Rating: PG-13
Warning: This story contains many kinds of tofu...possibly even demon tofu!
Spoilers: None I can think of.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters and I don't want to own them. Those boys are all dark, twisted and tormented inside, so I'm only willing to make very brief visits to their universe in the interest of birthday fic.
Author's Note: This was written in 2007 for jackycomelately's birthday and is a sequel to Demon Tofu Birthday Surprise: A Supernatural Adventure.

Sam glanced at his watch and smiled in satisfaction. Dean had been out of the motel room for almost 12 minutes, which beat his previous record by an entire 10 minutes. It was a baby step, but a step all the same. It looked like Dean might finally be on the road to recovery.

Five days ago, Sam and his brother had managed to crash through a mystical portal to another world -- no, not another world but a parallel universe. A post-apocalyptic parallel universe. A post-apocalyptic parallel universe where the only food source was tofu and certain soy products. And it had taken nearly two days for them to claw out of that hell-hole and return to the more familiar hell-hole that was their own universe.

There had been scars -- deep soul-searing scars. But as Sam had lost count of the number of deep soul-searing scars he had accumulated during his lifetime, he had more or less shrugged off the experience. Dean was a different story. He had crouched in the farthest corner of their motel room with a fully-loaded beretta in one hand and a machete in the other. Even the Magic Fingers in their room hadn't distracted Dean from his deep-seated terror. He had been convinced that demon tofu was coming to get them.

As Sam had helplessly watched his brother from the vibrating bed, he had been reminded of those awful days after his demon tofu prank at that small town diner. Although he must have said it a hundred times, he hadn't been able to convince Dean that it had all been a joke and demon tofu didn't exist. Fortunately, Dean had eventually gotten over it -- after eating part of a fried tofu salad that Sam had strategically placed on the dashboard of the Impala. Well, Dean had sobbed hysterically for several minutes once he'd realized what he'd eaten, but, when he still hadn't converted to demon tofu worship a week later, he had been forced to concede that maybe all tofu wasn't bad (like the kind found in fried tofu salad), though that didn't mean demon tofu wasn't out there. Sam had just been happy to let the subject drop, which is why getting thrown into a post-apocalyptic parallel universe where the only food source was tofu and certain soy products seriously sucked. It had brought back all of Dean's demon tofu issues and had turned him into a gibbering idiot. In fact, the only way Sam had managed to get him out of their motel room had been to stage a hunger strike and refuse to go out anymore to bring back food. As the motel didn't have room service (or any restaurant to speak of), Dean had been forced to venture out for food.

Sam took another look at his watch. It had now been more than 14 minutes, and Dean hadn't returned to their room shrieking about demon tofu. Maybe this was the turning point. Maybe Dean had finally recovered and they could focus on something other than demon tofu rehab. Sam's thoughts had just started to drift to the paranormal, and he was thinking longingly of werewolves, when he heard the key in the lock.

As the door opened, Sam said, "Hey, Dean, how'd it…?" He froze when saw his brother. Then he stared at him for a long time, not quite believing his eyes. "Dude! What the hell?"

Dean grinned. "Do you like it? I picked it up at an occult store. The hot blonde at the counter told me that there are protection spells woven into the polyester fibres that ward off all demons, including demons of the tofu variety."

Sam shook his head, barely able to suppress his laughter. "You look like a total loser, Dean!"

Dean glared at him. "The hot blonde at the counter thought differently."

"Yeah, well, I think the hot blonde at the counter was pulling the wool or, rather, the polyester fibres over your eyes," Sam said.

"Oh, you do, do you? Then how do you explain the fact that I was able to ward off tofu demons with it?" Dean demanded.

Sam threw up his hands and shouted, "THERE ARE NO TOFU DEMONS!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus don't exist either. I know, I know." He laid a hand on his brother's quivering shoulder. "Sammy, I appreciate what you're trying to do, really I do, but pretending not to believe in tofu demons isn't going to make things better. As Dad always said, we should confront our fears, face them head on."

Sam nodded, the gears in his brain already turning. Maybe if he forced Dean to confront his tofu fears, they could get past this once and for all. Fighting back a smile, Sam grabbed his jacket from the closet.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked.

"You were so busy flirting with that hot blonde con artist that you forgot to get us some breakfast," Sam said.

"She wasn't a…" Dean sighed and shook his head. "Never mind." He followed Sam to the door. "Hey, do you want to borrow my lucky hat for protection?"

Sam looked at the hat and grimaced. "Uh, no, that's okay. You keep it. You never know when you might need it." He forced a smile and made a quick escape into the hall, leaving Dean waving the hat at him from the doorway of their room.

When Sam returned to the motel 45 minutes later, Dean was finally making good use of the Magic Fingers. Although Dean had failed to get breakfast, it would seem that his little excursion had had some positive benefits. Sam set the brown paper bag down on the bedside table, and Dean didn't waste any time rummaging inside. At first, he seemed taken aback by the strange squishy square he found in his hand, but then he shrugged and began to wolf it down anyway.

"What is this?" Dean asked, talking around a mouthful of food.

Sam waited a few seconds, to make sure Dean had swallowed, before saying, "Fried peanut butter tofu."

Dean gagged dramatically and spat tofu across the bed. "What? Are you crazy?" he shouted. "Why the hell did you bring back tofu, you moron?"

"Well," Sam said, "it's like what you said earlier. You should confront your fears if you're going to beat them, and, Dean, you seriously need to get over this tofu phobia of yours."

Dean scowled. "I don't have a tofu phobia."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam lifted the other square of fried peanut butter tofu and brandished it at Dean, who threw his arms over his head and shrank away from his brother. Sam raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

"Oh, shut up," Dean grumbled. Then his brow creased in confusion as Sam glanced at his watch. "What? Do you have an appointment or something?"

Sam smiled. "No, I'm just seeing if enough time has passed for the toxin to have taken effect."

Dean laughed nervously. "Toxin?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, the one I sprinkled on your fried peanut butter tofu." As Dean's eyes widened in horror, Sam said, "Oh, don't worry. It isn't deadly. It just causes temporary paralysis in the limbs."

Dean's eyes narrowed and then he launched himself at Sam. "You BASTARD!"

The two brothers wrestled on the stained carpet, rolling around the room and bashing into various pieces of furniture. However, as the minutes ticked by, Dean's arms and legs began to move more and more slowly. Then, they could no longer move at all. Sam was able to subdue Dean easily after that.

"You psycho son of a bitch," Dean moaned. "What the hell did you give me?"

"Shh," Sam soothed. "It will wear off in about 12 hours. It's just some toxin taken from the fins of a Japanese blowfish." He squeezed Dean's shoulder lightly. "I borrowed some from that occult store of yours when the hot blonde's back was turned. Apparently, the toxin used to be popular with Japanese maidens on their wedding night."

Dean closed his eyes and whimpered. "When did you start hating me, Sammy? Did I miss the memo?"

Sam patted Dean's shoulder gently. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but this is for your own good. Remember how I used to be terrified of the dark when I was a kid?"

Dean opened his eyes and grinned. "Yeah, Dad locked you in that crypt, and you sobbed and screamed like a baby. It was freakin' hilarious."

Sam gritted his teeth. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have been so scared if Dad hadn't chosen a cemetery full of vampires!"

Dean snorted. "So, he came to rescue you, didn't he?"

Sam huffed indignantly "He waited until daylight, Dean!"

"Well, of course, he did," Dean said. "He might have run into the vampires if he hadn't waited." His eyes widened. "You're not going to lock me in a crypt full of tofu, are you?"

Sam laughed and shook his head. "No, nothing quite that elaborate, though we will be taking a little road trip."

Dean eyed him warily. "What kind of a little road trip?"

"To Asheville, North Carolina, the #1 vegetarian-friendly small city in America!" Sam leapt to his feet in excitement. "Come on, Dean, let's go!"

"Sammy…" Dean growled from the floor.

"Ooops," Sam said. "Sorry. I forgot." He bent over and lifted Dean off the ground. Then they were heading for the Impala.

An undisclosed number of hours later, Sam was hefting his brother into his arms again. "Dude, you seriously need to go on a diet. I think we got here just in time."

"Well, if you're planning to starve me to death then this is definitely the place to do it," Dean said, staring at a restaurant called the Mellow Mushroom in trepidation.

Once they were in their latest motel room, Sam deposited Dean in a chair and started to bind his hands and feet.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yo, Sammy, I'm paralyzed, remember? Where do you think I'm going to go?"

Sam barely glanced up from the rope in his hands. "You might try to crawl out of here. I certainly wouldn't put it past you." When he was finished tying the knots, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a handkerchief.

Dean groaned. "Ah, Sammy, come on!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't risk you calling for help," Sam said. Then, before Dean could protest again, Sam gagged him with the handkerchief. Dean glared back at Sam furiously, but Sam knew he had to harden his heart if he was going to help his brother. He turned away and walked to the door, not daring to look back over his shoulder.

In his quest to rid Dean of his tofu phobia, Sam explored several vegetarian and vegan restaurants, hoping to find the perfect tofu dish. When he came across a diner serving Tofuffalo wings and tofu French fries, he knew he'd found the right place. Still, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt as he carried away the Styrofoam container.

"Oh, Dean," he muttered. "If only there was another way."

When Sam returned with the Tofuffalo wings and tofu French fries, Dean was lying on the floor, having tipped the chair over on its side.

"Well, that was stupid," Sam said.

As Dean was gagged, he could only nod in agreement. Sam sighed and untied Dean from the chair, propping him up against the bed and removing the gag. Dean immediately started swearing up a storm, and Sam was tempted to pop the handkerchief back in again. Then Dean caught sight of the Styrofoam container and blanched.

"No, Sammy, I can't," he whispered. "It's-it's unnatural."

Sam snorted. "This coming from the man who can burp the national anthem." He took one of the Tofuffalo wings from the container and waved it in front of Dean's face. Dean flinched and tried to move away, but it was pretty hard when your limbs were paralyzed. "Come on," Sam said. "Just take a bite."

"Will you get off my case about it if I do?" Dean asked.

"No, but it will be a start." Sam prodded Dean's tightly clenched lips with the Tofuffalo wing. "Come on, Dean. Open up. You're a Winchester. You can do this."

Dean looked up into his younger brother's earnest face and nodded grimly. "Okay, fine, but just a tiny bit to start." He opened his mouth and then almost choked when Sam shoved the entire Tofuffalo wing into his mouth.

"Chew," Sam said. "It will make things a lot easier."

Dean glared at Sam, and, fighting his revulsion, he began to chew the Tofuffalo wing. To his amazement, the Tofuffalo wing didn't taste bad. In fact, it tasted absolutely fantastic.

"More," Dean ordered, and Sam quickly complied, stuffing another Tofuffalo wing into Dean's mouth.

"Would you like some tofu fries with that?" Sam asked.

"Yufpleese," Dean said.

Sam watched in fascination as Dean consumed more and more tofu at an alarming rate. Dean was snapping so enthusiastically at the food, that Sam started to have serious concerns about losing a finger. Then he stopped worrying about his fingers and marvelled at the incredible elasticity of his brother's cheeks.

Sam laughed nervously. "Uh, okay, Dean, you're really starting to freak me out."

"Guuuuuh," Dean said, and Sam winced as Dean packed away even more tofu fries.


It was almost two weeks before Sam was able to drag Dean, the tofu-loving freak, out of Asheville, North Carolina, and, even then, Dean had insisted they have a large supply of his favourite vegan goodies for their trip across the state line. It had been nightfall by the time Dean had been satisfied. Sam couldn’t help feeling worried when Dean chose to sit in the back seat with his stash rather than take the wheel of his beloved Impala.

Every so often, Sam would glance nervously at his brother in the rearview mirror. What he saw on his sixth viewing almost sent him off the road and he screamed as loudly as he had the night his dad had locked him in the crypt.

Dean was grinning at Sam from the back seat, blood smeared liberally across his chin. Only it couldn't be blood because Dean had become a vegetarian and had sworn off meat. That could only mean one thing…

"Mmm…cherry-tofu smoothie." Dean swiped the back of his hand across his chin then licked his fingers happily.

Sam drew in a deep breath and placed a hand against his rapidly-beating heart. "God, you are so screwed up!"

"Well, duh!" Dean said. "I'm a Winchester: what else is new?" He thrust the container of cherry-tofu smoothie between the driver and passenger seats, almost sending Sam off the road again. "Hey, would you like some?" he asked.

Sam shook his head emphatically. "No, thank you!"

"Oh." Dean frowned for a moment, but then his face split into a shit-eating grin. "How about some pie? There's a vegan bakery not far from here. All of their pies use silken tofu for the filling." He stared dreamily into space. "Mmm…freakin' tofu apple pie…"

Tags: demon tofu, fic, supernatural
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