Dean sat at the table during dinner, eating pasta that Sam had prepared for him. While he ate, he also secretly was reading scary stories on his phone under the table, known as 'creepypastas' since Sam had a strict 'no phones during dinner' rule, which Dean disapproved of.

"This pasta is total garbage!" Dean yelled out suddenly.

Sam gave him a look of confusion and offense. "I thought you liked my pasta, Dean!"

"Well, not this one." Dean muttered under his breath. He looked up, realizing what he had said. "I mean, I wasn't talking about your food, that's beyond excellent."

"What were you talking about, then?" Sam said in disbelief, crossing his arms while he waited for a response from his elder brother.

"Um… I was talking about…" Dean stopped. "I have to get something from under the table." He slid out of his chair and onto the floor. After about a minute, Sam heard Dean giggling. He looked down to see him on his phone.

"DEAN!" He yelled. Dean screamed and threw his phone up into the air out of surprise. He banged his head on the table in the process.

Dean rubbed his head and glared at his brother. "What, Sammy? I'm still looking for…" He looked around, spotting a noodle. "I was looking for this noodle that I dropped."

Sam gave him a look of obvious disbelief. "I can see you, Dean. You're reading stories on your phone during dinner again, aren't you? What have I said about that?"

"Well, I think that rule of yours is stupid, Sam!" Dean argued while he got back into his seat at the table. "I happen to love reading creepypasta!"

"It gives you nightmares, Dean!" Sam said. "Every night you wake up scared, saying that Slenderman or a zombie or something similar is out to get you."

Dean scoffed. "I do not!"

Sam held out his hand. "Give me your phone, Dean."

Dean's eyes grew wide. "No, it's mine! You'll never get me Lucky Charms!"

Sam was confused. "What are you talking about, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't even know." He stormed out of the kitchen, phone in hand.

"Where do you think you're going, Dean? Get back here this instant!" Sam yells after him.

"I'm eating in my room tonight!" Dean yelled back. He stopped and went back into the kitchen. "Forgot my pasta." He muttered before resuming his previous action of storming off back to his room.

While he ate his food in his room, Dean thought about how much he hated his little brother. "Stupid Sam, with his stupid rules!" He complained under his breath.

He opened the story he had been reading on his phone earlier, continuing from where he left off. "Yeah, tear her guts out!" Dean said with a mouth full of pasta, rooting for the monster in the story.

He smiled to himself as he read in vivid detail how the girl in the story was killed, as the monster bit her head off. Dean cheered, happy that the story had ended how he had hoped it would.

He spent the next few hours in his room that night, exploring the rest of the website. When he was in the middle of reading a particularly good one about a zombie apocalypse, Sam burst through his door and startled Dean.

"AHHH!" Dean screamed. "ZOMBIE!" He picked up a dumbbell nearby and threw it at Sam. "DIE ZOMBIE!"

The object hit Sam in the face, knocking him to the ground. Dean jumped off the bed and started kicking him.

"I'm not a zombie!" Sam yelled with his arms around his head to protect it from Dean's vicious attacks.

Dean stopped. "You're not?" He ceased his assault on his brother. "Oh. That's good. That's very good."

Sam groaned and stood up, rubbing his face while he winced with pain. "All of those stories you've been reading have gone to your head, Dean! I think you should take a break from them for awhile."

Dean was shocked. "WHAT?!" He screamed, making Sam cover his ears at the volume. "NO! Creepypasta is my life!"

Sam uncovered his ears and glared at him. "You only just discovered it yesterday, Dean!"

"Yeah, well, I wish I would have found out about these stories sooner, because I've got a lot of catching up to do now!" Dean responded defensively. "I might even try my hand at writing my own creepypasta one day! With all that we've been through, it wouldn't be too hard."

Sam brought over a piece of paper and a pencil. "Okay, well if you think you're so great, why don't you start right now?"

Dean stared at his brother, then at the paper, and back again. "Um… okay." He began writing. "I saw a clown. It had…" he stopped as his pencil broke. "Aw, shit! Sammy, I broke my pencil. Could I get a new one?"

Sam sighed and gave him another one. "You're holding the pencil too tightly. Try relaxing your grip on it."

Dean smirked. "That's what she said." Then he got serious. "Okay, here we go." He began writing again:

The clown was ugly. It had a big fat red nose, like Rudolph the Reindeer. It smiled at me with pointed teeth. I was so freaked out by the sight that I sprayed him in the face with pepper spray. He choked like a bitch and fell over dead. The End.

Dean looked over his work and nodded approvingly, smiling and patting himself on the back. "I think that's enough writing for today." He said happily.

Sam snatched the paper and read through it with a frown. "This is only a paragraph, Dean! It's not nearly long enough to even be considered a creepypasta!" He set the paper down with a sigh. "I think you should do more research for the story or something before you call it complete."

Dean smiled. "Well, I happen to be quite proud of it, Sammy! It's pretty good for my first story."

His younger brother rolled his eyes. "It's not even that scary. Creepypasta's are supposed to scare the reader, that's their purpose! This isn't even close to that."

Dean groaned. "What do you want from me, Sam? Huh?" He began poking his brother on the shoulder. "Huh? Huh? What do you want, Sammy? What. Do. You. Want?"

"I want you to stop poking me!" Sam growled irritably. Dean smirked and poked him once more before respecting his brother's wishes.