A/N: I'm quite possibly dating myself with this one, but as I'm the same age as Sam, I guess I don't really mind. Snaps to those of you who actually know the show they're talking about! Spell-checked but un-beta'd so blame all mistakes on me. Oh, and if Dean and Sam belonged to me, I would love them and hug them and refuse to share them with my sister. Love you Gigi, but it wouldn't happen..

What Else Is There To Do? Part IV

Summary: What else is there to do on the road except...talk? No battle of wits this time – just an enebriated/hungover Sam… and Winnie the Pooh. No plot, just pure crack.

"Sam, what the hell are you doin' in here?"

"I'm gettin' a drink, Dean. Whatzit look like?"

"Whazit? Dude, you're toasted."

"No 'm not."

"Yes you are. Gimme that. That's enough, time to go."

"But Dean – ouch! – I haven't… haven't finis'd that..."

"Yes you have. Now come on. Outside. Now."

"Iz cold out here."

"You wouldn't be cold if you'da grabbed your jacket before you stormed out, genius. Dad's gonna be pissed if I don't get you home."

"Dad's always pissed."

"Yeah well, he wouldn't always be pissed if you'd close your mouth and open your ears for a change. Now come on, the car's over there."

"Leggo my arm. 'M not a baby, Dean."

"No, you're a six foot sasquatch in desperate need of a haircut. Watch it! Don't you dare fall because I ain't carryin' your heavy ass."


"What Sam? …Watch your head."



"Crap. I told you to watch your head. What were you drinking anyway? You were only gone for, like, forty five minutes."



"Uh huh."

"Like what kind of tea?"

"…dunno. Some kind'a Hawaiian tea or I'land tea or somethin'."

"Island tea? You mean like Long Island Ice Tea? How many did you have?"

"Dunno. Don' member."

"How many'd you have, Sam?"

"Three… or four maybe? Five?"

"Sam! Are you kidding me? There's like five shots of liquor in each!"

"I din' know that. The guy sai' they were good."

"Well, put your seat belt on, Einstein. We've gotta meet dad at Jim's tomorrow afternoon. And you're really gonna feel that in the morning."


"Sammy? You with me now?"

"Huh? Where'd I go?"

"To La-Land. With Martha Stewart."

"Ugh... Did I have fun?"

"Oh yeah. You said something about a rolling pin and some KY jelly."

"Bite me."

"That's what she said."

"Ooooooh… seriously dude, shut up. My head hurts. What happened last night?"

"Oh the usual. Dad comes home, looks at you funny, you explode."

"I didn't explode."

"And you go out and get yourself wasted. With a fake ID, I might add. I'd be proud if I hadn'ta had to carry your heavy ass home. It was worth it though."

"Oh, god, what'd I do?"

"Spilled your guts about Jennifer Lynell, which, by the way, I knew your ass was lyin'! And you barfed all over dad's…"

"Awww crap."

"Yeah, crap. And you owe me big time for cleaning up that one. You also told me that Winnie the Pooh was evil."

"Well he is."

"You were serious?"

"Oh yeah. Winnie the Pooh scares me."

"This coming from a kid who chases monsters for a living."

"Hmph. What living? And yeah, Winnie the Pooh's evil! Nobody should let their kids watch it."

"Scared you when you were little, too."


"Yeah. Not this cartoon crap they got out now. The old episodes – the ones that had guys running around in big, dorky costumes. Pooh Corner, Hookie-Pooh time…"

"Oh yeah. I 'member that. Somethin' bout a magical flying wagon."

"Dude, you hated that wagon. Even back then you were a little, geeky nerd. Told me straight up that there was no such thing as flying wagons. And Santa Claus couldn't possibly fly all around the world in one night because there was no such thing as a flying sleigh."

"You know, me and Troy Pennington, we 'rote a paper on wazwrongwith WinniethePooh."

"Come again?"

"Wazwrongwith WinniethePooh."

"You ain't makin' any sense, dude."

"What's. Wrong. With. Winnie. The. Pooh."

"Oh… you wrote an entire paper on Winnie the Pooh?"

"Yeah. 'Fer fun."

"You wrote a paper for fun?"

"I jus' said that."

"Man, you give geek a bad name."

"Troy helped."

"And what do you mean, what's wrong with Winnie the Pooh? Kids love Winnie the Pooh. He teaches kids… stuff…"

"Just that there's something wrong with every single character on that show. It's bad for kids."

"Okay. Explain."

"All right. We'll start off with Pooh. He smoked marijuana."

"Say what?"

"You watched the show, man. That bear was buzzed all the time. Didn't you ever hear him talk? He was always so laid back and so slow to catch on to everything. That and he always had the munchies. He was constantly eating honey or doing whatever he could to get it."

"Okay genius, what about Tigger?"

"Tigger had ADHD."


"No, seriously, hear me out. Tigger was all over the freaking place. He was a hyperactive bouncer, he was impulsive, he acted before thinking about the consequences. He was restless, couldn't sit still…"

"…he was always jumping around."

"Exactly. He was easily distracted, had difficulty listening… all the key symptoms of ADHD."

"How 'bout Kanga? You couldn't possibly find anything wrong with Kanga."

"Kanga was a single mom. Did you ever see a dad? Which meant she had Roo outta wedlock."

"I don't believe this."

"I got more."

"What about Eeyore? Eeyore never hurt anybody."

"Eeyore suffered from depression. He was always depressed, always talking about how terrible his life was - so depressed he never even wanted to come out of his house, which by the way, was made of nothing but sticks because he was too lazy to build anything else. Most people who have real clinical depression also have difficulty remembering things – Eeyore would always forget where his tail was."

"Piglet then."

"Piglet was on Speed."

"What were you and Troy smoking when you came up with this!"

"Piglet was always so jittery and jumpy, always stuttering, like his heart was going a mile a minute. That was the Speed."

"Seriously, dude. Speed?"

"Speed's a stimulant, but it can also make you feel anxious or nervous or paranoid - all of which Piglet was known for. Not to mention that long term use of the stuff can destroy your nerves, and Piglet didn't have a nerve in his body so he'd probably been using it for a long time."

"Okay… Rabbit?"

"Totally OCD. Classic Obsessive compulsive disorder. You ever see his garden? Or how mad he'd get at Tigger for messing something up?"

"I'll give you that. What about Christopher Robin then? He was a nice kid."

"Dean, he talked to his stuffed animals. That kid had issues."