Well, Your Horn's Louder
I do not own anything you recognize…
Idea thanks to sister.
Well, Your Horn's Louder
Dean's Impala was being fixed. The breaks had worn out thanks to a stupid demon that popped up in front of the Winchester's get away car (the Impala), causing them to stop short every ten seconds for an hour.
Sam had convinced Dean to let a mechanic fix it while they had some fun. Dean had gone to a bar. Sam had gone to a book store.
Three hours later (as prescribed by the mechanic), Dean returned to the shop.
"Winchester, right," the mechanic, hillbilly Bob or something another, asked.
"Yeah," Dean answered. "She ready?"
The back country male gave a crooked tooth grin and replied, "Yeah." He handed Dean the bill and told him where to pay.
Once all was said and done, Dean walked over to the Impala. Billy Bob or whatever his name was, stood there, admiring her.
"Take care of her. She's a keeper," the mechanic said.
Dean smirked and nodded before getting in the car. "Thanks."
"No problem," the mechanic said.
Dean started the car and went five feet at two miles per hour. He pressed the breaks.
No response.
"Hey," Dean called out to the mechanic as the car slowly kept going. "Breaks aren't fixed!"
The Hillbilly smiled and nodded. "I couldn't fix them so I make your horn louder," he called back.
Dean was about to give a few profanities, but he currently had a dilemma.
The Impala was picking up speed as it started down a hill.
And what was at the bottom of that hill?
A big pile of cow manure.