"Harry Potter. Dude. Seriously?"

Sam shrugged. "The membership person was ogling me . . . I choked," he said quietly.

They stared at the black plastic card Sam held in his palm. Then Dean snapped.

"Ogling? An ogling signer-upper lady made you do this?" he shook his head and snatched the card from Sam, waving it under his brother's nose.

"I taught you better Sam. Rock stars, classic cars and '80's pop culture—even '90's pop culture if you're in a real bind—but this?" he growled as he held the card up in mock admiration. "This is just embarrassing."

"I know," Sam said remorsefully. There was silence in the Impala and then Sam spoke up, using his I-Have-A-Great-Idea voice.

"I'll cancel the card online and get a refund," he offered. "Then I can go get another one with a different ID."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, eyebrow cocked in horror.

"What?" Sam asked cautiously, unsure what problem Dean could have with the simple plan.

"A different ID."

"Yeah . . . we have plenty that are . . . up to your standards," he grinned. The grin faded quickly under the intensity of Dean's glower.

"A different ID," Dean said carefully, "indicates that somewhere in your little bag of tricks—'cause it ain't in mine—there is already an ID with your picture and Harry Potter's name," Dean finished, his voice dangerously low.

Sam looked away in embarrassment, focusing his gaze on the "Return Carts Here—Not Responsible for Damage to Vehicles or Persons" sign they were parked next to.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" Sam asked, using his grown-up voice in an attempt to persuade his brother to let it go. "It's just a fake ID—"

"A Fake ID and a Costo card, Sam."

"What's so wrong about a Costco card?"

"Nothing's wrong with a Costco card, it's what's wrong with your Costco card we're talking about."

"Dude! You've bought pizza and rock salt with Mick Jagger's credit card!"

"At least Mick Jagger's a real person."

"At least Harry Potter's . . ." Sam trailed off, wishing he could find a comeback to do the wizard-boy justice.

"And that, folks, is what I'm talking about," Dean said, nodding to his imaginary audience and thumping the steering wheel for emphasis.

"What's your problem with Harry Potter anyway?" Sam asked coldly.

"Well for starters, he wears a dress." Dean shuddered. "Very, very, wro—"

"It's not a dress," Sam interrupted, his voice tight, "It's a wizard's robe!"

"Whatever. Long, flowy, girly, stuff equals 'dress' in my book."

Sam shook his head. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Totally."

"Like, Neanderthal amazing. You need to get out more."

"So let's go shopping," Dean groaned, rolling his eyes.

"With the Harry Potter card."

"Even wizards need to eat, right?" he snarked as he opened the Impala's door.

Sam sputtered. "After that rant?"

"It's called pragmatism, Sammy."

"Yeah? How's that?"

"I'm craving a jumbo bucket of red licorice—maybe a whole case."

Author's Note: Thanks again to hitchcock_starlet for the encouragement and the conversation! Our challenge this week was 500 words about shopping and I had a total blast!