A 3 x100 word triabble by Amberdreams, Dizzo and Edina Clouds (not necessarily in that order)

E/O Challenge word = soap: triabble word = back

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x-x-x

Days of our lives

Another hunt. Another town. Another motel, and Sam was flicking aimlessly through the TV channels as Dean marched back and forth, unpacking the Impala's trunk.

His vision dimmed as a depressing parade of daytime TV garbage flashed before his eyes; vacuous soaps, knuckle-chewingly-dull infomercials, and quiz shows that required the mental functions of a doormat.
Abruptly he stopped, flicking back a couple of channels.

"Hey Dean, the guy in this show looks just like you."

Dean paused in his labours to look up at the screen; "well then, he's one lucky sonofab…Sam, that puny runt doesn't look anything like me!"

x-x-x

Two hours later and Sam was wishing he'd never pointed out the lookalike soap star to his grumpy brother, because Dean was still grumbling.

"Didn't you see his stupid floppy hair? And his pouty lips?" Sam refrained (barely) from whipping out his camera-phone to snap Dean's current Donald Duck impression to show big brother exactly what a pout looks like.

Sam had hoped that burgers might distract Dean, but so far, no joy.

Then things got ten times worse.

The 30 something waitress came back and said those fateful words.

"Hey, weren't you that guy from Days of Our Lives?"

x-x-x

Sam had expected Dean to react, but not in the way that he actually did.

"Yeah," he grinned up at the pretty brunette. "Nice of you to remember...haven't been in that soap for a few years now."

"How could I forget you," she giggled nervously. "You were always my favourite. Um…could I have your autograph?" She offered him her order-pad and pen.

Sam stared incredulously at his brother as he scrawled incoherently on the paper before handing it back.

"T-thanks," she stammered, scampering away.

"Dude…what the…?" Sam quizzed.

"What can I say," Dean smiled. "I'm one helluva a Dark Angel."