'Sam's Bar and Grill!' Nomen omen!' Dean chuckled, steering the black car into the parking lot. 'The food's just got to be awesome!'
'Ha, ha!' Sam snorted. 'Very funny! As funny as when dad used to grill us for hours on Latin. if you don't get the words just right, he used to preach, the exorcism won't work and you'll find yourself with a frenzied demon on your ass.'
:
'You were always better at Latin, geek-boy!' Dean stated, exiting the Impala.
'No, I wasn't,' Sam replied indignant. 'You used to get the pronunciation wrong on purpose, hoping dad would eventually give up on you!'
'Well, it worked, didn't it?' Dean confirmed unrepentant. 'I got extra gun practice and you extra Latin.'
'You've always denied that,' Sam bitched. 'How come you're being truthful now?'
Dean shrugged. 'Cos it doesn't matter anymore. Dad's gone and I have my nerdy little brother to furnish any necessary research-from A to Z.'
:
Sam folded his arms in protest. 'That does it! From now on you do your own research!'
'Aw, come on, dude! Don't be like that! You get things done twice as fast as me. C'mon, let's go see what fabulous menu your namesake is offering. Wonder if he's a tall, skinny dude like you?'
Sam huffed. 'More like he's a work-shy, scheming, short dude, like you!'
:
Bumping his shoulder against his brother's, Dean laughed. 'Love you too, Sammy!'