Impala

There's a squeal of tires followed by a dull crash as the car lurches to a stop. For a minute, they just sit there, Dean gripping the steering wheel hard, staring. "That… should not be here." Sam finally comments lamely. Dean just nods mutely, unable to ask exactly what they are looking at. All he can see is an impressive set of horns and huge, empty black eyes. And blood. All over the wind-shield and the hood of the car, pooling on the tarmac. Sam starts snickering softly at the absurdity. They've just run over and impala with their Impala.