3rd part of Through The Thin Walls Verse
Imagine you're in one of those cheap motel rooms decorated by a sleepless loony with Daltonism where colors are so mixed that they cause you a headache. And through the thin motel walls you can hear almost everything.
"Sam?"
"Yes, Dean?"
"Have you seen my stripe shirt?"
"Which one?"
"Oh, you know, The Stripe Shirt"
"Um, no Dean, I haven't"
"Are you sure? Because I can't find it.
"You think I took it?"
"Hm… Maybe"
"Why would I do it, skipping the fact your shirt is too tight and too short for me?"
"So you're implying I'm short?"
"I think the word 'little' is more appropriate, Dean"
"I'm so not 'little'"
"I would agree with you if I were a petite blonde"
"If you were a petite blonde… Oh, don't go there, Sammy"
"Funny, Dean, very funny. You know what? On the second thought I may know where your shirt is. Do you remember that rag you were cleaning the weapons with?"
"Sonofa… You made a rag from my shirt!?"
"Oh come on, dude. You're the one cleaning our weapons so often we are out of rags. Besides this shirt was like 100 years old."
"But I looked so smokin' hot in it!"
"Dean, this shirt didn't have one sleeve, and its color was undefined. I'm sure you have many others stripe shirts."
"But this one was special!"
"So now it's a special rag. Deal with it… Hey! Leave my bag alone!"
"I don't have my favorite stripe shirt, you won't have your hoodie"
"Dean, be serious! Put this lighter down! You're not gonna torch my hoodie!"
"Watch me!"
(the sounds of fight and bed wrestling)