Yes! Birthdays are not complete without clowns, balloons, and cake. So we'll have cake and then send you on your way with your tiny lady friend and a rubber. That should totally count as a balloon. [She is way too proud of herself. Way too proud.]
Don't be a brat, Sammy. *he gives his brother a terribly wicked grin* We know that you just keep up this front of hate because you don't want anyone to know your secret fetishes. It's okay, dude. We accept you for who you are, midget-clown lover and all.
Let's hug it out, Sam. Then we can let the healing begin.
It's okay. We're here to help you accept yourself. You can do it, Sammy. Just -- let it out, let it go. So what if you want to be caressed by a three-foot six chick in six inch heels and bright red rubber nose that honks when you kiss her? You're still my brother, dude, no matter what creepy business gets your mother runnin'.
*Dean hasn't had this much fun since the Benson Twins during that job in Memphis last month, there's no way he's letting up now*
*Dean's an asshole, has Sam mentioned that today? Because if he hasn't he's going to. Again. At least twice a day until they die* Please never used caress and red rubber nose in the same sentence again. Please.
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Let's hug it out, Sam. Then we can let the healing begin.
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I do not have a midget clown fetish. *Yeah, he's got a shudder running down his spine just from thinking about them. Clowns are creepy as fuck*
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*Dean hasn't had this much fun since the Benson Twins during that job in Memphis last month, there's no way he's letting up now*
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*he gives Sam his most understanding, indulgent smile* Do you need a few minutes alone?
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