"Alright, so what's the job?", said Dean as he drove the Impala down a two lane road, Rush blasting over the car's speakers. "So," replied Sam, "there's been a rash of deaths by stomping around small towns in Oklahoma. Police think that it's a deer or something similar. The most recent death was last night." "So what?", asked Dean; "this is Oklahoma we're talking about here, you sure these guys didn't just get reverse Bambi's momified?" Sam replied "That's what I thought too. That is until I heard the locations; the insides of bars." "Okay," said Dean, "now that's worth looking into. Either these bars've got bouncers with negative IQs or we've got ourselves a case. Let's check it out." As he said this, the Impala went faster down the highway pavement.
The brother's walked into a small bar, dressed in suits. The bar was filled with police officers, at least four or five of them. Sam and Dean approached one of them, the sheriff, and pulled out their fake badges, and Dean spoke, in the most official voice he could muster; "Hello sir, agents Bouchard and Roeser. What's the situation?" "Well," replied the sheriff, "it's just about the damndest thing I've ever seen. You two oughta come and take a look for yourselves." Dean asked "So, where's the vic?" The sheriff, with the slightest hint of humor in his voice said "He's in the john; come on, I'll show ya." As the sheriff walked to the back of the door and swung open the bathroom door, the brothers quickly exchanged a confused look before following him inside the /On the restroom floor lay the body of a young man, battered and bruised, laying in a pool of drying blood; in the in the pool were hoof prints, specifically those of a deer. Both of the brothers stared at the scene in utter confusion, prompting the sheriff to say. "I told you it was the damndest thing, didn't I? Nobody can make heads or tails of this mess." "Umm . . ." said Sam "I know this is going to be an odd question, but did anyone see a . . . deer walk in here?" The sheriff, clearly annoyed, replied, "Son, if a deer walked into a bar in plain goddamn sight, don't you think someone woulda seen it?" "Alright then," said Sam, "then did anybody see anything at all? A possible assailant?" "Nope, nothing; far as anybody know he walked in and beat himself to death with invisible hooves. It don't make any damn sense." "Yeah, you can say that again," said Dean. "So, we got any friends of the deceased who might have been here that night?" "Yeah," said the sheriff, "we got a guy the name of Ryan Sellers, left his contact information."
The brothers obtained the information from the sheriff and began walking to the Impala "What the hell could this be Dean? It doesn't make any sense" "I don't know," said Dean as he opened the Impala door and entered the drivers seat, and Sam did the same on the passenger side, "but I say we go pay this Ryan a visit and see if he knows anything".
The Impala began rolling down the quiet, small town street, onward to its next destination.
