So I was messing around with some looping and words started.
This is The Ballad of Dwight Houston, a song I wrote about one of my favourite characters in Dalton (or just about ever. All of them are a favourite of sorts, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read).
It incorporates some elements of Hell Night, but other than that it’s got no definite theme, other than the hunter himself.
((I just really like Dwight Houston, okay? Can I kidnap him, his holy water spritzer thingy, the journal, and his Impala? That would be perfect… and then we could live a crazy Windsor house life and be happy forever watching Supernatural marathons.))
OMG OMG OMG THAT WAS NTHE BEST FANFIC EVER WRITTEN AND OMG I AM DEAD YOU HEAR THAT PEOPLE.... DWIGHT HOUSTON HAS RETURNED ALONG WITH THE OTHERS AND I AM DEAD... GOODBYE ALL....ARGHSKJFDADASKJCFSDKCFNFN J
David turned to the bedside table. As was customary for every Windsor who particularly valued sanity, they kept a Nerf gun nearby in case of Tweedle Attack. Blaine’s was sitting on the bedside table, along with a full round of ammunition.
Sighing, David handed it to Dwight. “Thank you,” Dwight said. And then he opened the door and charged into the fray, yelling across the house as he fired. “Bring it on, Tweedles! Say your prayers!”
“This means war!” the Tweedles yelled from somewhere outside.