Okay, this is my first and quite possibly last attempt at crack fiction. I hope it's okay! Please review seeing as this is my first crack fic!
"˙˙˙pɹıǝʍ lǝǝɟ ı" Dean said, standing and wobbling on his legs a little.
"Dean!" Sam cried, skidding to a halt next to him. "Are you alright? You went up in what appeared to be a giant fireball!"
"˙pǝʇuǝıɹosıp ˙˙˙ǝƃuɐɹʇs lǝǝɟ ı ʇnq 'ʎɐʞo ɯ,ı" He said staggering almost drunkenly over to the car.
"Uh... what?" Sam asked, unsure what had just happened.
"˙pǝƃpɐɯɐp ʇ,usɐʍ ʎqɐq ʎɯ ʇsɐǝl ʇɐ" Dean sighed, patting the Impala.
"Dean, I can't understand a word you're saying." Sam said worriedly. "Man, that witch must have hit you with something REALLY powerful."
"¿ɯɐs ʇnoqɐ ƃuıʞlɐʇ noʎ ǝɹɐ ʇɐɥʍ" Dean asked, then apparently he heard himself. "¿ǝɔıoʌ ʎɯ ɥʇıʍ ƃuoɹʍ s,ʇɐɥʍ ¿ʞɔnɟ ǝɥʇ ʇɐɥʍ"
"I think we maybe ought to go see Bobby." Sam said hesitantly. "I'm driving. I don't think you should in your condition."
"¡dn-pǝssǝɯ os punos ı 'ʇıɥs ʎloɥ ˙ɐlɐdɯı ǝɥʇ ǝʌıɹp uɐɔ ı ˙ǝuıɟ ɯ,ı 'ɯɐs ou" Dean said angrily.
"Okay... sure." Sam said, having no idea what Dean was on about, but when he tried to slide into the drivers seat, Dean pushed him aside and sat there himself. Sighing, Sam sat shotgun.
"Speak sonny." Bobby ordered.
"¿ollǝɥ ¿ʎɐs oʇ pǝsoddns ı ɯɐ ʇɐɥʍ" Dean asked flatly. They could tell it was a question by the tone, and a sarcastic one at that, but they still had no idea what he was saying.
"Ya idjit. Don't go messing with witches." Bobby sighed exasperatingly. It sounded to him almost like Dean was speaking in a backwards, flipped way. He opened several books and flipped through them, not sure if anything like this had ever been recorded.
"¡ʍouʞ ı ʎǝɥ" Dean announced. Bobby and Sam both looked at him curiously. Why the hell was he still speaking when it was obvious they couldn't understand him? "¡ʞɐǝds ʇ,uɐɔ ı ¿ǝɹǝɥ dlǝɥ ǝlʇʇıl ɐ ¡sɐɔ ʎǝɥ ¡lǝıʇsɐɔ"
"What's he doing?" Bobby asked, watching Dean pace and talk garbled nonesense with his eyes cast up.
"I think he's calling Cas." Sam answered. Since it was clear Castiel either was busy or couldn't understand Dean either, Sam tried it out. "Hey Cas! Really think this deserves your time!"
"I'm here." Castiel answered appearing behind them.
"˙ǝɔıu 'sɐɔ ǝɔıu ¿ssǝɯ ƃuıʞɐǝds spɹɐʍʞɔɐq ǝɥʇ ʇou ʇnq ɯıɥ ɹoɟ ɹɐǝddɐ ll,noʎ os 'ɥo" Dean said, a little irritated.
"I can't understand you." Castiel answered in his monotone.
"That's why we called. What language is he speaking?" Castiel looked him over, opening and probing his mouth with several fingers, which Dean strenuously objected too, then spat disgustedly when the fingers were withdrawn.
"As far as I can tell, English. But backwards and upside down."
"Is that a theory or a fact?" Sam asked.
Castiel regarded Dean with interest for a few more seconds. "Stand on your head." He said.
"¿ɥnɥ" Dean asked. But he did as he was told. ".now down get I can" he asked. Sam was surprised to hear normal English, but just backwards.
"Huh." He said.
Dean straightened."¿ʇɐɥʍ ʍou"
"Can you fix it?" Bobby asked.
Castiel shrugged, reached out his hand and pressed three fingers to Dean's forehead. "Why didn't you just do that in the first place?" He growled at the angel. Castiel merely shrugged and replied that they hadn't asked, before making an excuse an disappearing away.
"I hate witches." Dean sighed, accepting a drink from Bobby and nestling into his couch.