There it was, lying in wait on its red silky cushioned throne, on a smeared, finger print ridden pane of glass. It had succeeded in ensnaring its unsuspecting prey as Dean Winchester smiled in sheer pleasure and excitement at the sight before him. Sam, stooping beside his brother to check out what has him so mesmerized, was surprised that his brother wasn't salivating like a bitch in heat, well not yet anyway.
"Sammy, forget the pie!".
"Are you kidding me Dean?. You aren't being serious, are you?". His eyebrows arched up in astonishment, only to descend just as quickly in a show of disapproval.
Dean's face lit up like a kid in a candy store, the corners of his mouth rose up enthusiastically and his eyes crinkled. "Course, I'm being serious, I have never been more freakin' serious in my life!". Sam could think of many examples to prove him wrong, it wasn't the right time or place to do this though so he left it. Dean seemed to fall into a deep trance as he gave Sam a hearty pat on the back and skipped into the pawn shop's entrance rubbing his hands gleefully with his brother following slowly behind.
As they entered the store, they were met by an eerie silence so that Dean could even hear Sam shaking his head and quietly sighing to himself. No sales assistant. Great. Not even any other customers.
"Must be your new cologne, its scared everyone away" Dean said, smirking. Behind him, his younger brother performed his usual eye roll.
"Bitch"
"Jerk"
Dean was about to march up to the window display, to gaze upon his beloved prize, well it would be soon if the sales assistant decides to arrive and do her job, but then a small group of rogue kids who made a noisy entrance got there first. Their grubby and curious hands all over the magic eight ball that Dean had his eye on,.
"Cool, awesome, wow!"
This was what the kid's energetic chatter consisted of. Dean wondered if they even knew what the magic eight ball was for. He could sense that Sam was sending him telepathic messages to hurry up and leave, the kind that twins could transmit but they weren't twins, just really close brothers. They had each other's backs and their full time job - hunting demons and evil spirits - made them an unstoppable team. Dean was the oldest and played his role of protector, his sunny good looks - bronze hair, intense eyes, and strong build - combined with his sense of fun made him popular with the ladies. Sam had less luck. In comparison he was a little uptight . His older brother did his part and teased Sam relentlessly about using up all the Kleenex and for his chick-flick moments, but it was Dean who watched reruns of Oprah.
The kids in the shop were now about to shake the eight ball so Dean approached the one who seemed to be the leader of the gang, he was the tallest and most stout, his fat, mean face was a war zone of acne scars, this member must be years older than the others.
"Hey kids, I need to.."
"We aren't kids".
Dean sarcastically mumbles "nice attitude you have there".
"What?". The bratty kid taking a step closer.
"Whoa, calm down. I didn't realise that it was the time of the month for you.
The kid starts to look a little less pissed as confusion takes over. His immaturity starting to show. Hopefully,
a kind person will warn this prick about hormonal girls.
"Isn't it curfew time for you boys?. Look, I need that eight ball and I was here first".
"Then why are we the ones holding it?"
"Okay, smartass. Let's rock, paper, scissor it".
The boys form a huddle and consider this proposal for a few seconds. Then the oldest boy confidently swaggers up to Dean.
"Deal".
"Right, so 1,…2,…3!"
Dean automatically uses scissors, like he always has done, "don't let me down now".
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