Futurama, Supernatural, their characters, this writer, and all the things this writer forgot or didn't have room to mention, probably including you, belong to the Hypnotoad.

Every once in a while, something would remind Bobby Singer that anyone with his job would have to be really, really stupid. Anyone with his job would have to investigate the spaceship crashed in his backyard, instead of calling the proper authorities. Anyone with his job was the proper authorities.

And really—a spaceship? Couldn't anything be just a myth anymore?

"All glory to the Hypnotoad," murmured the one-eyed alien with the purple ponytail.

"All glory to the Hypnotoad," repeated the rest of the invaders.

"All glory to the Hypnotoad," said Sam, Dean, and—to his horror, on some level of himself he couldn't quite connect with—Bobby.

Were they just going to stand around like this forever? And was that really such a bad thing, to spend the rest of eternity with a creature so obviously deserving of everything and more?

No! Don't let it...

"All glory to the Hypnotoad," Bobby said again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean dig his phone out of his pocket and hold down one key before his hand dropped it and his foot stepped forward to crush it.

Shit. Hopefully he had someone really resistant to mind control on his speed dial—

Oh, thank God, and oh, shit, because while Castiel was probably immune to mind control, so was the angel with whom he was grappling.

"This really isn't a good time for me, Dean!" Castiel dodged a blade—barely.

"Castiel, what is this?" the other angel snapped.

His eyes fell on the toad. Castiel followed his gaze.

Here comes the ass-whoopin', thought Bobby.

"All glory to the Hypnotoad," said Castiel.

Shit.

"All glory to the Hypnotoad," said the stranger. He stepped away from Cas.

Bobby'd seen enough supernatural meddling to believe there was no such thing as pure chance. Pure luck he could believe in, though, and he believed it was pure luck the angel walked right into his line of sight and hid the Hypnotoad from him.

Bobby screwed his eyes shut before the toad could catch his gaze again and flailed his way over where Sam and Dean had been standing. On the way, he hit something metal—the alien that looked like a trash can with limbs? Whatever it was, it swore at him. He heard it stomp over to its companions and say, "Okay, meatbags, back in the ship. Let the primitives deal with the Hypnotoad."

"What'll we tell the professor?"

"We'll tell him we dropped the toad off somewhere it can't hurt anything. Now move!" A few seconds later, Bobby heard a loud whine and felt a blast of hot air as the spaceship rocketed back into the sky.

He grabbed Sam by the shoulders and turned him around, then Dean, and then Castiel. "Walk," he said. "House is this way. Follow my footsteps."

"What about Raphael?" Cas asked.

"Inside first. He can stay there for a while. In fact, that gives me an idea..."

Safely in the kitchen with the blinds shut, Dean was on board right away and Castiel, predictably, had moral qualms.

"We can't just leave them there indefinitely," he said.

"Someone'll notice," Sam added.

"That's the thing," said Bobby. "It's not indefinitely. It's just until his friends show up looking for him."

"What happens if one of his friends doesn't look at the toad?" Sam asked.

"Then we shoot him!" Dean looked a little too happy about the prospect. Then again, if the angels had put Bobby through all that crap, he'd probably want to kick their asses 'til they spat vertebrae, too. "Cas, get to work blessing the holy fire. I'll have a flamethrower put together in ten minutes, tops."

"I pray that we don't have to use it."

"Yeah, 'cause that's always worked so well for you."

"Get to work on the flamethrower before I smite you."

Luck was either feeling favorable toward them or really mad at Raphael, because for once things went according to plan. Raphael's allies showed up and got distracted by the toad, Castiel called his allies and told them to show up with blindfolds, and before long Raphael and most of his important commanders and strategists were in Heaven, in the custody of the good guys.

"It shouldn't be hard for us to win the war now," said Castiel. "The morale of Raphael's troops will be destroyed, and they'll be floundering without leaders. Thank you for allowing us to use your toad."

"Not my toad," said Bobby, "and I was meaning to ask you about that. Can you help me get rid of it? It's creepin' me out, just having it there in my yard."

"Where would I send it?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Um. I have an idea. See, there's this writer in Kripke's Hollow who I kind of owe something like this..."

"That wouldn't be ethical—"

Dean grabbed his tie. "Listen to my brother."

"All right, all right." Cas snapped his fingers. "There. Don't call me when this backfires." Then he was gone, leaving Dean with a handful of air.

"Let us know how the victory goes," Bobby said to the air.

There was a slightly awkward silence.

"So... celebrate with beer?" Dean asked.

Please review, even if all you say is "All glory to the Hypnotoad."