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."

Sam nodded.

"uh, about that Bobby …"


"Um, well, remember your tablecloth ..."