Title: Plan B
Disclaimer: Just playing
Challenge Word: Drag
Dean took a long drag on the misshapen cigarette and passed it to Sam.
"Bottoms up, Sam... or, whatever." Dean encouraged.
Sam took the proffered joint and eyed it suspiciously, "You sure these herbs will work?"
Dean shot him his best shit-eating grin, but was already looking green around the gills. "Missouri said they'd keep us protected from demonic 'infiltration.'"
Sam inhaled and then gagged.
"You wanna try snorting it instead?" Dean offered thoughtfully.
"No. I think we should move on to plan B before plan A kills us."
Dean quirked an eyebrow and Sam held up his sketchbook. "Tattoos."