WOW: square. Dinnertime means takeouts in the Impala again …. Someone's not impressed. Someone else doesn't care!

On account of the fact I'm working on something dark and angsty at the moment, I've let my humour-bunny out to play this week ...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything supernatural; I just borrow it occasionally for fun and larks.


Sam took an unenthusiastic mouthful of burrito as Dean snarfed down his burger like a man starved.

"Dude," he sighed, "when will we ever go somewhere nice for a proper square meal?".

Dean shrugged, cheeks bulging chipmunk fashion. "mmmpphhummff?"

"Just think, tables with tablecloths…"

Sam cringed as Dean's straw emptied his cup with a long, hollow slurp.

"…and real knives and forks."

He was interrupted by an spectacular burp.

"Woah;" Dean grinned, picking his tooth, "that burp was jalopeno flavour."

He turned to Sam; "What were you sayin, bitch?"

Sam shook his head.

"Never mind, I just remembered why we don't go anywhere nice".