(Source: whoffaldi)
“The hell is wrong with this thing?” Dean asked angrily. He squinted down at the ancient looking fax machine which was beeping pitifully. He couldn’t see the papers he had inserted into the feeder tray and he could only assume that they were jammed inside of the silly old contraption. He let out an exasperated sigh. It was his second day on the job and he was fucking shit up massively already.
“Fuckin’ fax machine. Who the hell uses fax machines anyway…what is this, the 1980’s?” he muttered below his breath. He was suddenly aware of someone standing next to him. When he turned to his right, he flushed. It was the Office Manager, Castiel. He was staring at him, a mixture of curiosity and amusement plain on his face. He watched as Castiel breached his personal space and reached forward, fiddling with the machine.
“I’ve found that…giving it a gentle tap helps,” he murmured in his strange, gravelly voice.