Bobby Singer (@HadAWeekendOff) profile picture

Hunter, father figure, salvager, mechanic, grump, go to guy, and apparently the only place to get alcohol in the western hemisphere. #WaywardVerse

My place
Joined July 2011
Photo by Bobby Singer (@HadAWeekendOff)Photo by Bobby Singer (@HadAWeekendOff)Photo by Bobby Singer (@HadAWeekendOff)Photo by Bobby Singer (@HadAWeekendOff)Photo by Bobby Singer (@HadAWeekendOff)
I think that's supposed to be a "gift" or something. That's a cat for you. But how's Stevie?
Not sure if I should feel flattered or not that Rufus's cat is bringing almost prairie-dog-sized rats right home onto the welcome mat. Turning that mat into an unwelcome mat does work with the decor.
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Replying to @bluelabelonly
@bluelabelonly [Both Bobby and Rufus have been working their contacts in Hawaii. If the situation wasn't so serious, it would feel a little like the old days, the two of them turning "who gets the answer first" into a competition. In the end, Rufus, sly dog that he is, manages >
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[lesser-used ingredients he has, and get it into their hands by tomorrow morning. There's still the possibility that Crowley might be screwing them over, maybe intentionally making them waste time, but the spell itself doesn't look like a fake. >
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[Either way, it's what they currently have to go on. And each day that goes by is another that draws the equinox closer.]
[Bobby has been reduced to playing referee in his own house, with no control over the rules of the game. As much as he wants to shake Dean out of his funk (literally throttle him sometimes, with how much he's been drinking), there's not much >
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[what's it going to be like when that wellspring dries up to nothing but a dusty basin of false hope? He sure as hell doesn't want to find out, which is why he's been calling every contact has about more books, >
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[including one Eleanor Visyak, praying that there's some illuminated manuscript she has stashed somewhere that might be a monk-composed graphic novel on how to extract angel grace.]
I suppose... If that's true, I need more flamethrowers down by the front gate.
He is the brainy one... And you're more like the wizard... running things from behind the curtain.
I run a salvage yard and got a heart fixed. Tin Man is obvious. (Scarecrow is probably Sam?)
Hey, I got my toes... I don't hear you crowing about brains over there.
I keep waiting for Judy Garland to show up. Strangest Wizard of Oz remake ever.
[Bobby grumbles as he reads through the books before him, troubled. Although with the podcast situation seemingly resolved, and having the boys under his roof for a time, his shoulders were lighter, the fact was that this situation with]>
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>[It's with this thought in his head that he dials Rufus's number, hoping to not only get more information but to check in. The fact that Rufus was still out there at 73 years old, was admirable... but asking for trouble. Not that his friend looked 73. Lucky bastard.]>
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>[Bobby glances out into his snow-covered salvage yard through the window as he holds the phone to his ear, hoping this isn't about to go to voicemail.] @bluelabelonly
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