Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and I am not secretly E.L. James. No infringement intended.
A/N: It's been a rough week for me and, as you may have guessed, I use humor to deal. This is just pure ridiculousness meant to cheer myself up a bit, but hopefully it will make someone else laugh too. Not intended to offend fans of the book series. Because, hey, I read them too. All three. Don't judge me!

SPOILER WARNING - Contains a major spoiler for info not revealed until the 2nd FSOG book.


The Trickster hates him most of all. There's not a doubt in Sam's mind about that fact. Sure, maybe he did kill Dean hundreds of times, but Sam was the one who had to remember it and deal with the fallout. Dean, on the other hand, had the luxury of being almost completely clueless throughout the entire process.

Then there was the TV nightmare in which he got his nuts smashed, was forced to claim he had genital herpes, and was turned into a spoof of KITT from that cheesy Hasselhoff show, Knight Rider. If that wasn't proof that this was personal, nothing was. Okay, to be fair, Dean did get shot. But Sam was still convinced he got the raw end of the deal overall.

And here they are again, trapped in one of the Trickster's illusions. Only this time they have to act in movies and, once again, the bastard is playing favorites – meaning Sam is getting all of the worst roles.

So far, he's been forced to play the douchebag villain from Titanic, Clyde the orangutan in one of those stupid Clint Eastwood movies Dean loves, and he had to dress as a clown and play serial killer, John Wayne Gacy, in some poorly written, independent film about his tragic childhood. He doesn't know what role will be next, but he's pretty sure that, whatever it is, it's going to suck hardest for him.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouts. "What the hell?!"

Suddenly, Sam is sitting in the backseat of some sort of vehicle and his brother is behind the wheel. Problem is, they've been dropped right in the middle of rush hour traffic in a big city. It's a close call and there is definitely some swerving and more cursing involved, but his brother is one hell of a driver and manages to bring the large vehicle under control before they crash.

"Double crap!"

The voice sounds shocked and is most definitely female. Sam looks beside him to see a very pretty brunette staring at him with wide, alarmed blue eyes. She is chewing on her bottom lip so hard that he wouldn't be surprised if it started bleeding. Seriously, what now?

"Christian, what's happening? Is something wrong with Taylor? " she asks in a whisper, looking straight at him. Apparently he's 'Christian' in this movie and Dean must be 'Taylor'. Good to know.

"Uhhh… road rage?" Sam replies with a shrug. "Dean, I mean dude's got a major case of road rage… it's bad… sort of, you know… like a problem? He needs help and stuff." Great, he's rambling like an idiot who has no earthly idea what's going on. Wonder why?

"Dude?" the girl repeats in disbelief. "Why Christian, when did you suddenly become so keen on using low-class street slang?" She giggles and bats her eye lashes. "I'm simply appalled at you, sir."

Low-class street slang? Keen? This girl sounds very strange. Her accent is American, but there's something not-quite-American about her speech pattern. It's just odd. And what's up with the 'sir'? Is he ninety in this movie? This time he's completely lost. Maybe Dean will know. He's the pop-culture/movie guy.

"Dean," he whispers, leaning forward in his seat.

"It's Taylor," his brother mutters back.

"Okay fine, Taylor. What piece of crap movie have we been dropped into this time?"

"How the hell should I know?" Dean hisses back at him. He sounds defensive, too defensive. He's lying. It's amazing how Dean can con for a living and then be such a horrible liar at times.

"Pull over," Sam snaps.

"Of course, Mr. Grey," his brother says politely and then maneuvers into the right-hand lane so he can pull onto the shoulder.

"Who's Mr. Grey, Dean?"

"Shit!"

Despite the circumstances, Sam allows himself to laugh. He's just caught Mr. Smooth red handed.

"Dammit, Sam… I mean Mr. Grey," Dean huffs under his breath. "Stay in friggin' character or we'll never get out of this mess!"

"What character?!"

Dean pulls the car to a stop on the shoulder of the freeway, hops out, and then pokes his head back in. "Just get out of the damn car," he grumbles.

Sam smiles apologetically at the brunette, who is still chewing on her bottom lip and looking at him like he's lost his mind. He shakes his head at her. What is up with this girl? "Just stay here, okay?"

"Yes, Christian. As you wish," she says a bit too dramatically. "Just be careful of the traffic on the motorway."

The motorway? He's glad Dean didn't hear that. He'd demand to know what god-fearing American says 'motorway'? Shit! Maybe this is Canada?

He exits on the passenger side of the vehicle, which turns out to be an SUV. The girl does kind of have a point about all the traffic and it's no wonder. They are in a big city, Seattle to be specific. He can see the Space Needle in the distance.

"Dean, what gives? What are you hiding?"

His brother shuffles his feet and scrubs a hand down his face. He's embarrassed.

"I'm not hiding anything, Sam. I just… I was… confused. This is a book. As far as I know there hasn't been a movie made of it yet. I needed a minute to get my bearings. I was thrown, okay?"

"Okay. Jeez, stop being so defensive. What's the book?"

"Fiftyshadesofgrey"

"What? Dean, dude, you're gonna have to say that a little slower."

"Fifty Shades of Friggin' Grey, Sam!" he growls, enunciating each word. "Yes, I read it! Are you happy now?"

Sam has to think about that for a minute. Why does that sound so familiar? Oh, wait a minute. It's supposed to be a trashy romance novel. This is priceless! Too bad he doesn't have time to gloat right now. Well, maybe he has a little time.

"A romance novel, Dean? Seriously?"

"It's mostly porn! It's all about this guy that's all into bondage and S & M and crap. But between you and me," he adds conspiratorially, "I've been to hell and, trust me, Grey has no clue what real S & M even is."

Sam would like to put his fingers in his ears and hum a tune right about now.

"Dean, remember how I said you could tell me anything about hell and I'd listen?"

Now his brother looks really uncomfortable. Good, that makes two of them. "Uh, yeah," he mumbles.

"Well, forget I ever said that. I really don't need to know."

Dean nods. "Noted."

Great. Now they can get back to business. "So what's going on here? Who am I and who are you?"

"You're Christian Grey, the kinky billionaire who likes to spank hot brunettes, and I'm your security guy and chauffer, Taylor," Dean adds with a frown. "I mean that kinda makes sense since Taylor's ex-Special Forces and kind of a badass, but I'm the lady's man and Christian's supposed to be really good looking and-"

"Dean."

"Sorry. No offense, Sammy. It's just weird… Maybe it's cause you're kind of emo and that Christian Grey is definitely one hardcore emo. Technically, he's crazier than a shithouse rat. Plus, you have all that floppy hair. Every other sentence was about dude's messed up, floppy hair."

Great, he's a sadistic, emotionally unstable billionaire with floppy hair. Yep, the Trickster really hates him. He must be laughing his ass off right now.

"So, who is that girl supposed to be?"

"That's Ana. Uh… Anastasia Steele," he mutters, embarrassed. "She's totally hot, but she doesn't know it. And you're head over heels for her, but you also want to beat her ass since she looks like your dead, crack whore mom."

"What the fuck?! This is a romance?"

Dean just shrugs.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Please don't tell me I have to go spank that poor girl."

"No! God no! Please don't do that in front of me. Taylor never saw any of that crap, so you're cool. Just talk to her. Ask her how she feels about the Master/Slave contract you want her to sign. That should get her going. Oh and tell her to quit biting her lip. That's a thing with him. It really makes him want to get naked, so he's always bitching at her over it."

Sam wasn't even going to ask his brother to elaborate on the contract. That was just too much. "So, what do you do, Taylor?"

"I just sit around and look stoic… and I pretend not to hear all the crazy shit you two talk about."

Once again, Sam gets the freaky role. Surprise, surprise. "Okay," he sighs. "Let's just get back in the car and get this over with."

"Hell yeah. I'm with you there. This is freaking uncomfortable. Oh and Sammy, one more thing..."

Sam turns around before climbing back into the backseat, but really wishes he hadn't after his brother reaches up and makes a huge rat's nest out of his hair.

"Your hair's supposed to be all tousled and sexy or something… so you need to run your hands through it every few seconds," Dean instructs once he's satisfied, then gives him a hard slap between the shoulder blades. "Just think intense and emo, Sammy. You can do it."