WOW: goo. Dean's a suffering snotmonkey. It's a good job Sam's there to find help from an unexpected source ...
Or is it?
Disclaimer: don't own them, but then no-one ever said life was fair ...
"Sorry dude," Sam sighed; "the receptionist said the doctor's surgery's closed until morning."
Dean snuffled wetly in response.
"But she made this for you," he added, clutching a small bowl; "it's her grandmother's herbal cold relief."
Taking the proffered bowl, Dean's nose wrinkled as he stared suspiciously at the pungent green goo within it.
"It's supposed to help you sleep ..." Sam paused, hearing a choking gulp.
"Tastes like ass," Dean spluttered, face crumpling into a disgusted grimace that had 'bulldog chewing a wasp' written all over it.
"I'm not surprised," Sam groaned; "you're supposed to rub it on your chest!"