Gish Item #4
The Babysitters Club meets Supernatural
AKA that time Dean Winchester got his ass kicked by a 13 year old girl.
Kristy Thomas, 13 year old professional babysitter, knew for absolutely certain that she would never let anything happen to a child on her watch, and that included letting the house be robbed by a burglar who was currently breaking into the basement through the storm doors.
She considered calling the police, but what if the burglar escaped before they arrived? She’d have no proof of the incident, and Jamie Newton’s parents would never trust the Club to babysit ever again! That was just bad for business. So Kristy did the logical thing and grabbed a baseball bat, confirmed that Jamie was safely asleep in his bed, and then slowly made her way into the basement.
The burglar didn’t see her. He was too busy poking around at the Newton’s old boxes, and at the stone in the house’s foundation. What kind of burglar cared about the house’s structural integrity more than boxes potentially full of expensive antiques? One much taller than her, apparently, and bigger, and older. He was holding a weird box in his hand as Kristy slowly approached, and it began to whine as the man held it closer to the foundation. And with all of her softball strength, Kristy swung, hitting the man in the head with a loud CRACK.
He screamed in pain and surprise, Kristy involuntarily screamed in response, the man dropped his shrieking little box and whirled around to face her, and Kristy raised the bat to hit him a second time.
“Hey, hang on a second!” The man insisted, rubbing at his head. “What the hell?”
“I don’t talk to burglars,” Kristy said, and she wound back for a second swing.
“Woah woah! I’m not a burglar!” The man said, raising his hands. “I’m- look, my name is Dean. I’m hunting a ghost. I thought nobody was home-”
“Likely story.” She swung, slamming the bat into Dean’s ribs. He doubled over and clutched his side.
“Would you put the bat down please!” He yelled. “I’m not a burglar!”
“Right, you’re a ghostbuster,” Kristy scoffed. “Ghosts aren’t real.”
“They are, I swear, it’s just-” Kristy raised the bat again. “Look! I don’t want to hurt you! So can you just put the bat down!”
“Seeing as you’re trespassing? Hell no.”
“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, and he fumbled with his jacket and pulled out his gun. Kristy stepped back as he pointed it above them. “I have a gun! Gun trumps baseball bat! Now how about we both put our weapons down and talk about this, okay?
Kristy swung the bat again, cracking it against Dean’s hand and sending the gun flying across the room and under a pile of junk. Dean yelped at the impact, and she swung again before he could react, smashing him in the face. Dean fell to the ground and this time, he didn’t move. Kristy poked at him with her shoe, and Dean’s unconscious form rolled back.
“Ghosts,” She repeated. “Likely story. I’m calling the cops.” She kept the bat close as she ran back up the basement stairs. “Nobody breaks into a house on the Babysitter’s Club’s watch.”
