Dean winced. Talking hurt.
Feeling like a fool wasn't helping matters either.
"Seriously Dean?"
"Shut up."
Sam started picking the splinters from his brother's face and neck.
"I know you love pie, but…"
"Sam, I need you to not talk right now, okay?"
Sam had to stop. Laughing and extracting splinters were not a good mix. Plus Dean looked like he might explode.
"C'mon! The pie was a plastic prop for a window display - what were you thinking?"
"I totally knew it was plastic!
... plastic pie is evil…
… and that's why I shot it."
"Fine. But why twice?"