Dean's date with his latest conquest doesn't go entirely according to plan …
Disclaimer: I own nothing, only my own twisted mind.
Dean writhed miserably on the bed; clutching his stomach, he groaned. "S-sammy", he moaned, "I'm dying, man, oh God, I'm dying …"
Sam sat on the side of the bed, his hand clutching his brother's trembling shoulder, "hang in there dude," he soothed, "you've just eaten something that disagreed with you, that's all".
"Nnnnnnnggggaaahhh", Dean doubled over, "gaaaaaahh; my guts are on fire" he squealed between clenched teeth.
Sam offered the shivering, sweating heap in the bed a drink of water which was refused with a headshake so piteous that under any other circumstances he would have laughed out loud.
Leaning over the bed, he placed his hand on Dean's burning hot scalp "what did you eat dude?"
Dean panted hard as another vicious cramp ripped through his convulsing belly, "ooh-oooh-oooh-oooh-o-oysters" he whimpered.
"Oysters?" Sam asked, bemused; "that's not your usual type of thing…"
"oh frig, frig, friggin' ass, shitfaced, balls, freaking, dickfaced, asshat …," Dean sobbed; his grip around his midriff tightening as a deep and threatening growl erupted from his belly.
"Why the hell were you eating oysters?" Sam asked, absently, rubbing the back of his brother's head watching with fascination as beads of sweat sprang up around the throbbing temple.
Dean drew his knees further up to his chest with a pained grunt, "Katie," he croaked, "they were on the menu and she told me about how they were supposed to be an aah-aah-aphrodsiac."
Sam grimaced and chewed his lip; "how many did you eat, Dean?"
"ggggggggnnnnnuuuuuuhhhhh" Dean curled up tighter and muttered something unintelligible into his chest.
"How many Dean?"
There was a choked sob, as a menacing gurgle echoed across the room.
"Dunno, aah-aah-about thirty I guess …"
Sam shuddered at the thought and reached for the phone.
"Hello, 911; how can we help?"