You know what, it's best just not to ask... really, just don't...

I hate frysauce, really I do.

Anywho, I don't own them... most likely never will... or WILL I?


--Winchester Sauce--

"Weird," Sam stared at the pinkish goo set down for him to dip his fries in.

"I know, man, I don't have any idea of what it is. Maybe we should try to kill it?" Dean glanced from the pink dip to his brother, merely whispering so as not to be heard by the other customers in the restaurant.

"Why does everything always go to killing with you? Why can't you at least try to find another solution?" Sam queried.

"I…well, it… When has killing it first ever been a problem for me?"

The brothers looked down at the runny pink sauce and then back up at each other. "I doubt this stuff will pose such a threat as that." To prove his point Sam tentatively dipped the smallest corner of a fry into the pink and popped it into his mouth.

"Hey, this stuff's not bad," Sam dipped another fry, enjoying the taste, even though he wasn't sure exactly what it was.

Taking courage from the fact that Sam hadn't fallen into convulsions, his face wasn't turning blue, or his head hadn't exploded in anyway, Dean dipped a fry as well. He held the small potato up to his lips, slowly sticking out his tongue for a taste.

The look on Dean's face almost caused Sam to choke on the burger in his mouth, to say Dean didn't like the stuff was an understatement. "It's not ketchup man; I think I'll take my fries dry here."


The worst thing is, there might be another chapter... I am just in an odd mood that way