(Anachronism-Wincest: Dean's POV)
Research sucked. Like, totally sucked.
I mean, sure, I like going to the library and checking out the hot college girls that sometimes lurked around just as much as any other red-blooded American guy, but the whole book thing kind of ruined the appeal.
Now, I knew why it was a bad idea to just shoot or stab or chop first and research later, but that didn't mean I had to like it...
Especially when Sam decided to bring a few of those damn dust keepers back to the motel room and leaf through them while I tried to concentrate on the soft-core Anime porn I had playing on my laptop.
"The watch on this dude..." Sam started his usual babbling, one huge, Gigantor finger stabbing at a picture of what looked like an old-fashioned painting of some poor asshole in a suit, "It seems like it's out of place, man. Almost... It's, like, a full on anachronism."
I looked up and offered Sam my best bitchface, something that I had learned from years of watching him give the same expression to Dad and Bobby and even myself, and paused my video. Now, I usually just ignored his Geekboy-esque college vocabulary, but this word was a little different.
"The hell does that mean?" I asked, grabbing my beer bottle from where it sat next to my laptop and tipping it back, swallowing the bitter liquid before I continued, "Sounds like some kind of dirty fetish, man."
Sam rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it actually might have hurt, running the fingers of one hand through his too-long hair. "It's not, dude. It's just, like, a big word for something that's out of place for the time and setting."
"Hey, thanks for the lesson, professor, but why does that matter?" I asked in a patronizing voice, closing my laptop and setting my chin in my palm, elbow resting on the edge of the rickety table, "You're supposed to be looking for information on the case, kid. Not stuff about your dorky word fetish horseshit."
He just rolled his eyes again and flipped his middle finger up, turning his full attention back to the dusty book being dwarfed by his massive Sasquatch hands.
I bit back the urge to offer some kind of bitchy remark about respecting one's elders, but I simply took another pull from my beer bottle and let the liquid glide down my throat, then opened my laptop back up and started the video again.
I'd consider this battle a win for me, I think.
