INTERIOR: Motel. SAM and DEAN are on a queen-sized bed, drinking whiskey from the bottle. The contents of the bottle are nearly entirely gone.
Dean: Here comes Peter Cottontail...
Sam: Dean?
Dean: (taking another swig of whiskey) ...hopping down the bunny trail.
Sam: ...Ok, you're REALLY drunk.
Dean: ...hippity hoppity I wanna fuck your ass...
Sam: (takes bottle away from Dean). Ok, there, Gene Autrey. Enough hunter's helper for you tonight.
Dean: (doing his best pout) Not my fault the ham was so damn salty.
Sam: Normal people? Drink water when they're thirsty. Not Maker's Mark.
Dean: I do, you know.
Sam: Drink water? Or...
Dean: (falling back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head) hippity hoppity...
Sam: (unable to repress a smile) You wanna fuck my ass.
Dean: Oh, so you DO know the song.
Sam: Sure you're not too drunk for that?
Dean: I'm never too drunk for that. C'mere.
Sam: (peeling his jeans off) Ok. But no singing.