There is Something Supernatural Going on Here.
Dean knocked on the door, and Lisa answered it.
"Dean? You came by. Wanna come in for a beer?"
"No, I can't." Dean said in a low voice, rough voice.
"Why not?"
"Because. It won't be as dramatic if I did." He replied, and then pulled a small bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket and sprayed some on his eyes.
"Don't cry Dean." She said. "Please come in."
"Sorry. I…I cant." Dean said, fake tears falling down his cheeks.
"But you just drove 18 hours to get here. You sure you don't wanna at least use the toilet before you go."
"No. I'll go in my pants. Anyhoo, I just wanted you to know that if I wasn't such a dooshbag then I would totally marry you and whatever." Dean sprayed another helping of fake tears on his face for good measure. Then he left.
0-0-0-0-0
Sam and Dean entered the morgue and walked up to the coroner.
"I am agent Milli. This is agent Vanilli." Dean said, and flashed his phoney FBI badge at the coroner.
"Hey, are those fake ID's?" The Coroner said.
"No. Look in my eyes and tell me I'm lying." Dean said.
"Okay. Good enough for me. So apparently, this guy was into some freaky stuff. It looks like there are two perfectly round bitemarks on his neck, and somehow he looks like he has been torn apart by a bear or something. Ive never seen anything like it. If you ask me, I'd say this guy was the victim of some sort of gay sparkly vampire or some kinda weird indian werewolf of something." The Coroner said, frowning.
"Man I could go for some demon blood right now." Sam said, drooling.
"What?" The Coroner said.
"Oh, nothing. Thanks for your help."
When they got back to Bobby's house, Dean and Bobby tricked Sam into going into the dungeon and locked him in.
"Let me out please." Sam cried.
"No…. you idjit." Bobby said.
Then Sam began to hallucinate.
Sam was bent over the table. He could hear Lucifer unzipping his pants from behind him. Zip. He felt his own pants yanked off of him in one clean motion. Swoosh. Then his undershorts. Yoink. Sam braved a glance back. Lucifer's cock was long and pointy, with thorns sticking out every which way. Lucifer got closer. Sam felt the tip touch his butthole. Then, penetration. Bwoop! He could feel his butthole being shredded from the inside-out with each painful thrust. It stopped for a moment. He felt his hair brushed to the side, then a whisper in his ear.
"I'm in your grapefruit, Sam."
0-0-0-0-0
"Cas, I really need you right now." Dean said, in the most dooshbaggy dramatic voice that this tool of an actor could muster.
Cas appeared behind Dean for some reason, instead of in front of him.
"What is it Dean."
"Can you get me a beer?"
"Asshole." Cas mumbled under his breath. "Well, at least in this story I don't have to get cornholed by you every five seconds." He added, as he walked to the fridge to get the lazy dime-a-dozen tv dooshbag tool his generic beer.
"Oh, and tell Sam to keep quiet in there, sounds like he's getting cornholed by the devil or something."
0-0-0-0-0
Then Sam, Dean, and Cas took turns having gay butt sex with each other. The End.