BOLT FROM THE BLUE
WOW: Use a day of the week. Dean's mouth just doesn't know when to give it a rest!
Disclaimer: I don't own them; not on any day of the week.
The odour filling the room was disturbingly reminiscent of barbecues and the smoke spiralling lazily around the cobweb-ridden ceiling definitely had a hint of woodsmoke about it.
More disturbing, were Dean's smouldering butt-cheeks, in all their incinerated glory, peeking through the charred remnants of his jeans as he lay face down, whimpering pitifully on his bed.
Sam slammed his Norse mythology encyclopaedia closed.
"Okay moron," he snorted; "next time I mention that Thursday is 'Thor's day' and you decide to call him a 'girly blonde douchebag with a hammer fetish who can kiss your ass'; remember - he hurls a mean thunderbolt too!"