John and Bobby are arguing whose fault it really is they're stuck ankle deep in mud on some god forsaken back road in the middle of the night..of course their predicament has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they are both absolutely totally and completely shit-faced drunk…
"God damn it! Son-of-a-bitch stupid mother fuckin cock-sucking rusted out piece a shit!"
John's stream of verbal abuses could be heard for miles
"John. John! Stop it right this gawd damn minute! You ain't gonna make the car get unstuck by trying to kill it with the heel of your boot. So stop kickin m'car woulda ya!"
"Damn it Bob! I thought you kept up on this beast?! What the hell else do you have to do with your time huh?! Sitting around researching the differences between a Coors Light and a Miller don't exactly help me when I need you ya know?!"
The master of: Do-As-I-Say-Not-As-I-Do John Winchester threw his empty beer bottle deep into the woods behind him when he finished yelling back at Bobby then grabbed another beer from inside the car
"Look ya idjit, I by no means is as drunk as you are. I am not the one who decided it would be a great idea to double downshift to avoid an obviously already dead jack rabbit thereby dropping thetranny on the gawd-hiccup-damn ground and making us slide into the m-mud."
John interrupted Bobby by holding up a finger and saying "Now wait a minute. That rabbit was perfectly healthy and hopping along just fine until I came along."
wait..that didn't come out exactly how I meant it
Apparently Bobby took no notice of John's comment because he just kept right on rambling along, "I take good care of m'cars. And this baby runs just fine unless it has a pain in the ass like you behind her wheel! Damn it John this ain't no government -hiccup-issued vehicle handed to you by one of your Marine buddies that you can just drive into the ground. You have to coax her a little-hiccup-take it easy on her..r-ride-ride her soft.. yeah..soft…stroke her.. like a lady you have to take care of herrrr..mmmmmmm."
Bob's slurred speech quickly faded off and his body weaved and bobbed back and forth as he stood in the middle of the road with his eyes closed and his beer about to fall from his hand to the ground
Although Bobby tried to hard to defend himself and his superior wire coat hanger and duct tape mechanic skills it seemed apparent to John that his friend had simply slipped into an alcohol induced coma-like daydream about his car being a real female.
John looked down at the beer in his own hand and contemplated walking right up to Bob and pouring the remaining portion of it right over Bobby's head. Instead, he just stood for a moment shaking his head while staring puzzlingly at his friend. As he ran a rough and dirty hand over his beard John made up his mind. He walked over to Bobby and shoulder butted him hard. "Hey! Bob! Are ya in there anywhere?"
A wicked grin graced John's face as he raised the bottle over Bob's head but decided against it when he recalled the last time he pissed off Bobby Singer. John was cold, covered in mud, stuck in the middle of nowhere and figured getting his ass chased around by a drunk, half-mad redneck in a trucker cap trying to shoot him full of a buckshot probably wouldn't be a good idea right now
"Yup. Yup. M'good. Whazzz up?"
"Are you sure about that Bob?"
"Course I am. I'm right as rain you jackass." Then he raised the bill of his cap up a bit and started looking around. "John?"
"Yeah?"
"Just where in the hell are we anyway?"
If looks could kill, John Winchester's stare would have blown Bobby clear from the road and through the thicket of Pine trees which lined the roadside behind them
John rolled his eyes and a long, low, guttural growl escaped him before he began yelling, "What?! How can you not know? I mean really?! How the hell can you not know?! You're the stupid son-of-a bitch who told me.."
John began dancing around on the balls of his feet with his hands waving around in the air while mocking Bobby in a very high-pitched tone, sarcasm gripping every syllable
'..to take a left here John. It's a shortcut John. Trust my instincts John..'
John's arms were now flailing around wildly in the air above his head, his voice going ever higher, while his prancing....well, what really needs to be said? It's John Winchester. Prancing. An act not to be repeated..ever, to be assured
'..I know every back road in ALL of America John. We'll be there before ya know it John.'
When the prancing pony dance stopped John looked like a crazed mad man running his hands through his hair, practically pulling it out, while walking in circles half-yelling at Bobby and half-mumbling to himself
"Yeah, right Bob! Jesus Marion Joseph! I've got to be out of my goddamn mind to listen you! I do. I must be. I shoulda known better. You'd think I know better by now anyway. The first time I met you was in a bar. At 7 a.m. That shoulda been my first clue. Oooo..trust me. Ooo..I'm Know-it-all-Singer. A skilled Hunter. I wear a filthy fucking hat I never ever wash or change for some damn reason and I lose my self in broken cars and dusty books. Which by the way, how do you read those things? With a bottle of Jack and a magnifying glass? Cuz with your failing eyesight I don't know how you can see to fucking re-"
John turned around just in time for Bobby's fist to connect perfectly with his jaw, putting John's ass down hard on the pavement.
Bobby stood above him, poised with his fist tight, his breathing rapid, eyes glaring and John coulda swore Bob was foaming at the mouth but John decided it most likely was just beer foam gathering in his friend's beard
Looking at Bobby's facial expressions John decided it was best just to stay right where he was until Bobby calmed down.
Yep. I'm totally comfortable right where I'm at. Nope. I'm not getting up at the moment at all. This pavement is my new best friend . Yep. Just me and the road and that's how I like it
John drew his knees up to rest his arms upon. He knew when he was beat and knew when it was best to just stay down.
John after all was not a stupid man..a totally drunk mouthing off idiot maybe but not entirely stupid
"Hey Bob?"
Leary of just what might come out of John's mouth Bob hesitated before he replied, "What?"
"Pass another me a beer would ya? I need it after your wicked right hook." John said while rubbing his jaw.
Bobby was tempted to tell John that he could get the beer himself but decided against it. He liked John. Always had, even from day one. They were both just drunk and Bobby knew it. So he leaned into the car to grab the beer but realized they had drank it all and to him, that was a damn sad thought.
"Shit." Bobby said with a sigh.
"What? What's wrong now?"
"We're out."
"Shit is right then."
"Well.. now what Winchester?"
Deciding it was safe, John pushed himself up from the pavement and placed a hand on Bobby's shoulder and said, "Well, I guess we're going to have to hoof it out of here. That car ain't going anywhere anytime soon."
"Yeah, my poor baby has seen better days hasn't she?"
Taking off down the winding road together in the opposite direction they had driven up, the two men in a feeble attempt at staying off the cold walked with their heads lowered and their hands stuffed in their jeans' pockets.
Only a few minutes passed before Bobby spoke, "You know.. I think I saw a small bar back in that last town we passed through. If we hurry we just might make last call. You up for another round?"
John chuckled "You know it. You know it."