A/N: also inspired by the DEW challenge, the Impala and gravity. I've exceeded the 100 word limit substantially. I hope you'll forgive me.
The boys were excited to be hunting a mountain troll since they were thought to be long extinct. Sam even insisted on keeping the body to study its unique physiology. Trolls have exceptionally high bone and muscle density; despite being an immature specimen only four feet high, it took both brothers to lift its weight into my trunk.
Dean can be a little dense himself sometimes, but it's unlike Sam to overlook a detail that's related to the creature's mass: trolls turn to stone when exposed to sunlight. And I think both may have forgotten the trunk still has bullet holes from last week's hunt. I tried to warn them: I was shamefully slow to start and misfired repeatedly driving down the mountain pass, but Dean missed the hint until the sudden extra weight at dawn dragged my back wheels off the road.
Now, as I desperately try to maintain balance, rocking precariously over the edge of the precipice, I think we all understand the gravity of the situation.
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