ZEN AND THE ART OF TERRIFYING YOUR BROTHER
WOW: spasm and inflamed. Inspired by a certain video doing the rounds this week. Dean's cursed, but it's Sam that suffers.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but then no-one ever said life was fair.
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Sam would hunt the freaky spirit yogi down for cursing Dean.
It wasn't so much that he minded the hours of silent meditation, although the trip to the local ER after Dean's knees had cramped into spasm, seizing into the lotus position had been mighty inconvenient; he didn't even really mind the plink-plonk of rainsticks or the stink of incense that permeated the bunker, inflaming his delicate sinuses to the point of bursting.
What really pissed Sam off was the yoga.
Tantric yoga.
Tantric, posey, stretchy, thrusty, NAKED yoga.
Yes, Sam would hunt the bastard to the ends of the earth.
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