fandomtownies | McCoppin Scrap (And Spacecraft Parking), Sunday, All Day

So, the place was starting to look more and more like the kind of scrapyard that Dean could be proud to call his own. It was full of, predictably, garbage of a multitude of sorts, but at least now it was mostly sorted out all neat and tidy, glass from plastic, metal from wood, and all sorts of crap that actually qualified as garbage well out of the way, where he'd arrange for it to be properly disposed of. Small island. Huge heaps of junk in the middle of town, not far from the school? Not the sort of eyesore that people generally wanted just sitting about.

Which was why, also predictably, Dean was contenting himself to go through the lot, picking up a sheet of tin here, a piece of glass there, planning out his next sculpture. Better people complain about his art than his junk, right?

It made sense to Dean, anyhow.

The scrapyard was open, the Help Wanted sign was still hanging on the front gate, and don't worry, Dean hadn't touched any spaceships since buying the place.

[Open for all your junk art/scrap/spaceship parking lot needs!]