"What's next?"

Sam picked the next bottle off of the shelf and, moving ever so slowly, placed it onto the bar. Squinting doubtfully at the label, he said, "Uh. Tequila? I think."

Dean snorted. "Don't believe everything you read, Sammy." He reeled confidently up to the bar and fixed the bottle with an experienced stare. "Huh." Picking it up, he popped it open and took a long swig.



"Oh, yeah," he said hoarsely. "Tequila. And it's the good stuff!"

Sam grabbed the bottle back and peered worriedly inside. "Oh, dude, gross! I think you swallowed the freaking worm!"