MASTERCHEF
WOW: eat. Dean will never do anything by halves - not where food is concerned.
Disclaimer: No, I still don't own them!
xxxxx
The bunker's great table groaned under the weight of the feast adorning it, and Sam's eyes widened as he scanned the expanse of food that Dean had prepared for Thanksgiving.
Centre of the table was a huge golden turkey, roasted to perfection and surrounded by steaming bowls of mashed potato, carrots, and cranberry sauce, together with more plates laden with cornbread, apple pie, pumpkin pie, and cherry pie.
The delicious aromas assaulting Sam's nose had him salivating to the point of death by dehydration.
"But-but Dean," he stammered; "we haven't invited anyone else!"
"I know," Dean grinned, rubbing his hands in glee; "let's eat!"
xxxxx
end
