TEN FOUR

WOW: nut. Dean needs to rethink his TV viewing.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them!

xxxxx

Dean woke with a start, heart pounding, face glistening with a sheen of sweat. Scraping his damp hair back off his forehead with a shaking hand, he blew out a shuddering breath.

Damn, that was nuts!

He'd just dreamed he was being chased by a massive swarm - flock – herd – whatever the hell you call a bunch of them – of rubber ducks; hundreds of the damn things, pursuing him relentlessly, quacking insanely as they pecked at his ankles, their evil little painted-on eyes glimmering with malice.

Okay, that's it. No more watching 'Convoy' until three o'clock in the morning ever again.

xxxxx

end