The challenge word is flame. I don't own them. I wish I did, but I don't.
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As the flames raged in the grave, burning the bones of Sam and Dean's latest ghost, the brothers stood watching.
"Hmm, all this fire-watching is making me hungry," Dean said. "I'm in the mood for some barbecue."
Sam scoffed. "Really, fire makes you in the mood for barbecue?" he asked.
Dean laughed as he walked back to the Impala, his brother following close behind.
Sure enough, thirty minutes later, Dean was scarfing down some barbecue sauce smothered baby back ribs, Sam paying no attention as he dug into his salad.
"I told you so," Dean said, face covered in sauce.
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