A/N: Written quickly and totally unbeta'd. Can't blame this one on Phoebe. It just came from…somewhere. And yes, I stole, ah, borrowed part of the title from Ace Ventura. I have no shame, remember?

Summary: One shot, another crackfic in the Coyote 'verse. The boys "open up a can of whump ass" in Africa.

Disclaimer: If you recognize 'em, I don't own 'em. Eric and Disney do. This is for entertainment only, not for profit. Gustave is real, though. I wish he weren't. It is not my intent to make light of the carnage he's inflicted all these years. This is just wishful thinking on my part. He really needs to be introduced to some C4, or the business end of a high-powered rocket grenade.

Winchester Road Trip: When Nature Calls

Devereaux grinned to himself. Got you now, he thought. He was already thinking about the money he and his crew would get. Nice thing was, every part of the animal would be useful.

The head, the skin, the meat, the teeth…

His driver Antwon powered the Land Rover over those bushes and as soon as all four wheels touched down on the other side everything went straight to hell, quick, fast and in a hurry.

There was an animal there, all right, but it wasn't an ape. This thing looked like a dog. A wild dog. A gigantic, pissed off wild dog. With large white teeth. And claws.

It wasn't African. No spots. Large pointed ears. Reddish grey fur. It took Devereaux a second or two to realize that he'd seen this type of animal before. In the movies. American western movies. John Wayne. Clint Eastwood. It was a…a…

A coyote. That was the name; he was sure of it.

It had already over-turned the other two jeeps with a swipe of its paw. The rest of Devereaux' crew were dodging and ducking as this animal roared and growled and tossed the Jeeps around like they were leaves.

Devereaux had just enough time to see the giant ape they'd been chasing standing some distance behind this creature, along with that damn blonde white woman, and three white men. Then it was time for him to flee for his life as the giant coyote lunged at the vehicle, eyes blazing green and gold.

He landed on the ground with a thump as the critter grabbed the hood of the Land Rover with its teeth and shook it like a terrier worrying a sock. Antwon scrambled away, and that left Devereaux sitting on the ground as the giant wild dog came within kissing distance of him. Its breath warmed his skin, fanned his hair with each exhale.

"Go ahead. Run," the coyote rumbled. It licked its lips and grinned slyly. "I love fast food."

Devereaux backpedaled furiously, frantically. He turned and ran after the others, and the only thing he could think of was that sometime today he'd have to change his underwear. And his pants.

"Punks!" Coyote boomed out in a roar like thunder. "You better run!"

Jill Young looked relieved. Mr. Joseph Young of Africa snorted. So did Dean Winchester. Joe turned, raised his right arm toward Dean, his giant hand curled into a fist.

Dean just stared at him.

Joe cocked an eyebrow at Dean, as if to say, You gonna leave me hangin', or what?

"Dude," Dean whispered softly as he looked up at the giant ape. He sounded like a little kid again, full of awe and wonder.

They bumped fists.

John Winchester laughed and got in on the fist bump, and after a moment's hesitation, so did Sam.

Meanwhile Coyote was on a tear. He roamed back and forth until he was sure the bastards were gone.

"Give us a call if they come back," Coyote rumbled as he sauntered back to the group. He shrunk down in size with each step he took until he was back to normal. Well, normal for him, which was a little smaller than a Shetland Pony.

"I'll do that," Jill said. "Thank you." She leaned down and kissed the Old Man on the top of his head. Coyote grinned like a loon, and his right hind leg thumped a little as she ran her fingers through his thick fur.

Dean didn't miss the warmth in her voice, the way she looked at him up and down. All of a sudden she was right there, with her hand on Dean's chest as she kissed him on the cheek. "Come by later," she whispered in Dean's ear, and he just nodded. Hell yeah I will.

John Winchester pretended that stand of acacia trees over to the right was suddenly so damned interesting. Sam Winchester stared up at the sky, whistling tunelessly.

Joe and Coyote snorted at the same time. Humans. Huh.

John looked around at the mountains and the grasslands as Jill and Joe walked away. "Africa, huh? Glad you invited us to come along. This place is beautiful." He looked relaxed, the most relaxed Dean and Sam had ever seen him look in weeks.

"Uh, do we have to go back just yet?" Sam had this look on his face that Dean, Coyote and John knew well. Kid wanted to take a tour of the place. Who could blame him?

"Naw," Coyote drawled. "Don't have anything else on my schedule."

Dean huffed. "Well, since we're over here, I know something else we oughta take care of. Won't take long."

Sam looked puzzled. "Who?"


Coyote chuckled. Sam's grin was bright and mischievous. "So you do watch PBS!"

Caught. Dean looked startled. It was a sure sign when he started stammering. "Uh, no...no! You Tube." His cheeks pinked slightly, and then he brightened up. "Saw that movie Primeval with Dominic Purcell from Prison Break. Yeah, that's it!"

"Dude," Sam drawled. "That was so weak. You're slipping, princess."

Dean bit his upper lip, then scowled. "That's my story and I'm stickin' to it."

"Wait a minute." John frowned. "This Gustave…he's a giant crocodile?"

"Yep. Twenty two feet long. Lives in Burundi." Dean nodded. "Sonofabitch has killed over three hundred people through the years."

"I saw that program on PBS," John said slowly.

Dean looked momentarily startled, but this was Dad, after all. John Winchester could watch any damn thing he wanted to, no doubt.

Sam looked preoccupied. "Didn't those scientists try to catch him in this giant cage?"

Dean snorted. "Yep. He trashed the cage and was probably laughing his ass off. Well, what do you expect? They're French. Somebody needs to go full-on medieval on his scaly ass."

Coyote shuddered as he shook himself from his ears to his tail. "I hate crocs. And alligators."

John nodded. He had this intense look on his face, the one he always got when he was gathering information for the next job, the next hunt.

"Well," John said at last. "Anybody got any objections?"

Sam shrugged. "Nope."

Dean looked at his brother in mock surprise. "What?"

"I said let's go get him."

"Oh no, wait. Christo. You're not my brother. You can't be. The Sammy I know would say something like, 'Oh, we can't, he's just a dumb animal.""

Sam snorted. "Sammy's a chubby four year old. My name's Sam. We need to open up a can of whump ass on this thing."

Dean looked impressed. "That's my boy."

"Well, all right then," Coyote drawled cheerily. "Let's go bag us a lizard."

About a day later Bobby Singer sat on his back porch with a mug of steaming hot coffee. It was a nice cool morning. Another beautiful spring day. The Winchesters had come back hours before from God only knows where. They'd been careful not to wake him when they returned, but they came back bearing gifts. It was the first thing Bobby saw when he opened his eyes.

Damned nice of them.

Bobby smiled as he leaned back, put both feet up on the porch railing and looked at his present. He never owned a pair of crocodile skin boots before. Nice.