"Dude, you totally fluffed your lines!"
"Shut up, Sam!"
:
The driver's door slammed as a scowling Dean took his place behind the wheel.
His sibling, on the other hand, had a wide smile stamped on his face as he folded his lanky body into the passenger seat.
:
"It was a slip of the tongue," Dean grunted, rubbing the bright red mark on his cheek.
"A slip of the tongue, my ass. You should know better than to give a truthful answer when a woman asks you to guess her age!"
"Oh! Come on, Sammy! She was so Botoxed, no-one could've got it right!"
"Yeah, but you said sixty, and she was a good ten years younger! You're lucky a whack to the face is all you got."
:
"So, we'll find another witness. And next time I'll leave the talking to you, you puppy-eyed moron!"
Sam grinned. "So you're admitting my superior interrogation skills?"
"What! No! But little old ladies seem to have a thing for you. If I remember rightly, you've had your share of cougars hounding you." Dean declared with a leer.
"Shut up, Dean. S'not true!"
But Dean was regaining his good humour. His brother was just so easy to bait.