I don’t know whether I should make this short, sweet and to the point or long and elaborate.

It was a dark and stormy night, Dean shot his first wedding on Friday.

Forked spears of lightning struck from the heavens, he was not the primary, but shot lots of frames.

In the ruins of the old keep, not in the highest room in the highest tower, but in the dark and dank dungeon, the SB-800 flash Dean borrowed from Mudder was very helpful.

A rusty gate screeched in protest as a gust of wind slammed it shut, the primary photographer seemed impressed.

A figure in a black robe turned to his assistant and whispered.. “I normally pay an assistant to come out with me, anytime you want to, give me a call”

The assistant did a dance of glee as he contemplated telling the computer place to shove it, but stopped still when lightning struck the highest room in the tallest tower, setting fire to the roof.

Their job done for the evening, the pair walked away, to pick over what they had taken that night and meet up in a few days to discuss future plans.

I’m sure you get the general idea.
Wooooofuckinghoooo!!

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