[Supernatural] "Last One's a Loser" (G)
Author's Note: Written for Supernatural, wee!chesters, the last bowl of Lucky Charms
Dad had been away for almost a week now, and the groceries that Dad had bought to stock the kitchenette in their motel room before he'd headed out were running low. That included the box of Lucky Charms, which Sammy was helping himself to that evening.
"Let me have that bowl: it's bad luck if you have the last bowl of Lucky Charms," Dean said, putting down the comic book he was reading and tugging on the bowl.
"Yeah, but I'm hungry," Sammy said, pulling the bowl back toward himself.
"You want that bad luck? Bet you'll get eaten by bears," Dean said, pulling on the bowl again. "Bet you'll turn into a *girl*, not that anyone would notice."
"Gimme that bowl! You're just makin' that up," Sammy snapped, yanking the bowl back.
"Nuh-uh, I read about it in that journal Dad's keeping," Dean said, pulling the bowl toward him, sending some of the oat bits and marshmallows flying.
"Dean, yer spillin' my cereal!" Sammy whined, trying to yank the bowl back toward himself.
Instead, the bowl went flying, flipped upside down, spilling the contents, before the bowl crashed to the floor, shattering.
The two boys sat staring at it. "Now you really did it, Sammy: that's *seven* years bad luck," Dean warned.
"Dean, everyone know's that's mirrors," Sammy said, glaring at him, seeing right through him.
Dad had been away for almost a week now, and the groceries that Dad had bought to stock the kitchenette in their motel room before he'd headed out were running low. That included the box of Lucky Charms, which Sammy was helping himself to that evening.
"Let me have that bowl: it's bad luck if you have the last bowl of Lucky Charms," Dean said, putting down the comic book he was reading and tugging on the bowl.
"Yeah, but I'm hungry," Sammy said, pulling the bowl back toward himself.
"You want that bad luck? Bet you'll get eaten by bears," Dean said, pulling on the bowl again. "Bet you'll turn into a *girl*, not that anyone would notice."
"Gimme that bowl! You're just makin' that up," Sammy snapped, yanking the bowl back.
"Nuh-uh, I read about it in that journal Dad's keeping," Dean said, pulling the bowl toward him, sending some of the oat bits and marshmallows flying.
"Dean, yer spillin' my cereal!" Sammy whined, trying to yank the bowl back toward himself.
Instead, the bowl went flying, flipped upside down, spilling the contents, before the bowl crashed to the floor, shattering.
The two boys sat staring at it. "Now you really did it, Sammy: that's *seven* years bad luck," Dean warned.
"Dean, everyone know's that's mirrors," Sammy said, glaring at him, seeing right through him.