WOW: charm. Guess what? Dean's on the receiving end of a rather unusual witch's curse. Sam and Bobby try to help.
Disclaimer: I guess we all know by now who owns them; and it's not me.
"Bobby, we gotta help him."
Standing beside the older man, Sam watched as Dean sat at the table polishing off a pile of sandwiches.
"He's gonna explode if he eats anymore," Sam sighed; "he's already had fourteen pies, twenty-two burgers and an extra-large pizza."
A loud burp reverberated across the room.
"Oh, charming," Bobby grunted.
"Have you tried taking food away from him?"
"Yeah," Sam replied; "he tried to eat my hand instead."
Returning to his desk, Bobby sighed; "well that's the last of my food."
"uh, about that Bobby …"
"Um, well, remember your tablecloth ..."