INTERIOR: Motel. SAM and DEAN are on a queen-sized bed, drinking whiskey from the bottle. The contents of the bottle are nearly entirely gone.

Dean: Here comes Peter Cottontail...

Sam: Dean?

Dean: (taking another swig of whiskey) ...hopping down the bunny trail.

Sam: ...Ok, you're REALLY drunk.

Dean: ...hippity hoppity I wanna fuck your ass...

Sam: (takes bottle away from Dean). Ok, there, Gene Autrey. Enough hunter's helper for you tonight.

Dean: (doing his best pout) Not my fault the ham was so damn salty.

Sam: Normal people? Drink water when they're thirsty. Not Maker's Mark.

Dean: I do, you know.

Sam: Drink water? Or...

Dean: (falling back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head) hippity hoppity...

Sam: (unable to repress a smile) You wanna fuck my ass.

Dean: Oh, so you DO know the song.

Sam: Sure you're not too drunk for that?

Dean: I'm never too drunk for that. C'mere.

Sam: (peeling his jeans off) Ok. But no singing.