Cross Road Blues

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In August 1938 Greenwood, Mississippi in a local Saloon Robert Johnson was seated on a small stage, playing. He had his head down, a cigarette was dangling from his mouth. The room was sparsely populated with people listening intently. a Woman was near the front staring at him, she was smiling as if the show is just for her, occasionally he looked up and caught her eye. Just then he heard the growling of a dog outside. He paused, then resumed Again, he stopped, he continued hearing eerie barking noises that nobody else seemed to notice, he then Saw a dark shape flitted past the window. he opened his mouth and the cigarette fell from his mouth; he was terrified. He stood, and clutched his guitar, then he bolted from the room in terror.

The Woman and several others customers followed him. He ran out and into a clearing Robert then stopped, he listened for the dog then He heard it, he dropped the guitar, Robert then ran into a wooden house and bolted the door closed behind him. He continued hearing the scrabbling and barking of the dog Robert drew a chair across the floor, he wedged it under the door. He backed up slowly, and sunk to his knees, he was weeping, he shuttered as the door rattled violently until it flew open; the two men and the Woman from the bar entered to find Robert on the floor, convulsing and muttering.

Old Man: "What is going on?"

Woman: "Oh my God!"

(She went over to Robert, she was running her hands all over him.)

Woman: "Get a doctor. Run!"

The Old Man ran. while the Woman leaned over Robert and started patting his face to get him a bit more conscious.

Woman: "What happened? Talk to me!"

Robert: "Dogs..."

Woman: "Stay with us, baby!"

Robert: "Dogs... Black dogs..."

Woman: "Robert? Robert, don't you die on me!"

Sam, Dean and Lydia were sitting at a table in a Diner, Sam had his laptop opened. he was looking at a mugshot of Dean from the St. Louis Police Department. and a secondary picture of Lydia from the States Amber Alert website.

Sam: "So much for our low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database, and Lydia's Face will be plastered every where on the news, missing Fliers, its a good thing that we changed her look totally red hair and glasses she looks nothing like how she used to."

Lydia: "I wish I didn't have to have the glasses though they get annoying after a while."

(Dean grinned and pulled her closer and nuggied her head)

Dean: "I like your old look better to babe but it's for safety I can't have you taken away and put in foster care I won't let it happen, any way Dudes this is Awesome! I'm like Dillinger or something."

Lydia chuckled and shook her head at Dean's craziness, he was such a joker.

Sam: "Dean, it's not funny. This makes our job harder, we've gotta be more careful now."

Lydia: "Don't worry so much Uncle Sammy we know how to fly under the Radar it's what we do, what do they got on you?"

(Sam began typing and muttering)

Sam: "I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet."

Dean: "No accessory? Nothing?"

Lydia: "Your so squeaky clean uncle Sammy, a real boy scout."

Sam: "Shut up."

(Dean laughed at the puppy dog look on Sam's face.)

Dean: "You're jealous."

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