A/N: Well, here is my next dialogue story. I am not sure if it is as good as "Saint Patrick's Day Massacre." But I tried. I hope I did I good enough job to make you laugh even the slightest bit. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, couldn't afford to even if I wanted.

The Late Night Movie

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April 10th, 2008 ...11:48PM

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Creed's Inn...Shelby, Montana

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"Okay Sam, it's almost midnight. Your turn to pick the movie. I am relying on your amazing intellect to get us through an hour and a half without nauseating me. Think you can handle it? Can you accept the mission Jim?"

"Uhm, Dean, it's just a movie, not life or death."

"It is when you're in charge. Last time we watched Steel Magnolias, and I was sure I needed to buy stock in Kleenex after Julia Roberts kicked the bucket. You are so emo it is insane."

"Hey, there is nothing wrong with a good cry. You oughta try it sometime."

"Yeah, maybe if I drop the toaster on my foot again, then I'll shed a few. Not for an actress that is only playing a fictional character. It's pointless."

"You have to get into the plot."

"Again, pointless. I just don't see it. Why should I get involved in a plot line that lasts as long as the dinner I made twenty minutes before? Once I'm done, the movie is over, and both leave me with the same feeling in my stomach."

"You're a prude."

"No, I'm a realist Sam. I just don't understand the infatuation with Chick Flicks. They are silly and overdone. Can we talk about something else please? I have that feeling building in my stomach again."

"It's called emotions."

"It's called gas. Can we watch a good horror movie maybe? Something with a ditsy chick running into the woods when she should be running for help. A slasher taking her out as soon as she enters a clearing. Something like Friday the 13th maybe?"

"Man you're sick. You just can not watch anything with substance."

"Dude, that has substance. It's called blood!"

"..."

"Do you always have to do that?"

"Well, when I feel my points are getting ignored, what else is there for me to do?"

"Oh I don't know, give in?"

"And what the hell would I do that for?"

"Cause I'm the big brother, and I said so?"

"Oh yeah, that is such a winning argument."

"Worked all the time when you were 5."

"Yeah, well I am 24 now. Sort of moot."

"You realize you are becoming a bit of an ass, right?"

"Look what I hang out with all day long. Sort of rubs off."

"Okay enough of the pot shots. Let's try and be civil, and pick a movie already."

"Ha, when it gets personal you can't take it, huh Dean?"

"Just shut up and pick a damn movie!"

"Okay, how about...Terminator? Will that satisfy your testosterone fix?"

"Nah, saw that last week. Too soon to see 'Ahnold' just yet."

"Christ, you are impossible to please. What about One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest? That's right up your alley, in more ways than one."

"Smart ass, and no thank you. As much as I love the Jackster, I don't think a dose of Nurse Ratchet would be very good before heading off to bed. Nightmares of needles and naughty nurses would plague me for days."

"Okay, my last shot, and then I give up. Die Hard? Is that good enough for your mush you call a brain?"

" 'Come to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs.' Ha, ha. Yeah we could watch that, if you hadn't used it as a Frisbee last night, trying to take out a fly cause you were too damned lazy to get up."

"Oy vay. Fine I will just pick something at random, and whatever it is, we are watching it. No matter the content."

"Oh great, movie pig-in-a-poke. This should be heaps o' fun. Should I get the party favors now or later?"

"Wise ass."

"Oh butch up Sam, before someone mistakes you for an extra in a John Hughes film or something."

"..."

"And stop that. Didn't dad ever tell you if you do that enough they could roll backwards?"

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to know that my baby brother is slowly turning into the sister I never had, that's for sure."

"Okay, you asked for it."

"Wait, Sam. What did I ask for? Sam, what the hell are you putting in the DVD player?"

"You just sit back. I think you might like this."

"Oh crap. What is this? Where is that music coming from? I feel ill."

"Stop it Dean. Give me the remote. Back off. You touch that TV I will deck you. If I have to tie you to a chair, so be it."

"Sam this is worse than Chinese water torture, and ten times as cruel. Make it stop!"

"Just relax, soak it in. Feel the emotions take hold."

"Dude the only thing that is gonna take hold, is my hands on your throat if you don't shut that crap off."

"Ooh, do I sense a bit of hostility?"

"You bet your sweet ass you...Oh Christ is that Hugh Grant? I think I feel something."

"You wanna cry, you need a Kleenex, maybe even to just sniffle just a little?"

"God no. I think I feel...that they may have to lock my brother up for cruel and unusual punishment. And me for killing my brother!"