"Dean, slow down."
"We're only going seventy, Sammy, keep your hair on."
Sam gripped the side of the car tightly enough that his knuckles flared white. It felt unnatural to be on the left and not be driving. It felt even more unnatural to be driving on the left of the road. He kept seeing the car ebb over to the right in his mind's eye and it was not helping with the situation. "I can't see the – Dean that's a goose."
"A what?" hard braking, a screech of tires and an indignant squawk as the large white bird hopped into flight mere inches away from a terrifying death. "What the hell is a goose doing on this road?"
"There was a sign back there that had a white bird painted on it," Sam said, peeling his fingers from the car door one at a time.
"And I was supposed to just know that meant 'watch out, giant birds may attack your car?" Dean jabbed irritably at the radio and muttered under his breath as yet another version of the BBC ticked over and started playing. It seemed to be a commentary on local politics. Dean looked mutinous.
Sam hunched lower in his chair and eyed the GPS warily. They didn't generally need one but they'd gotten lost five times so far and the roads were now misty and wet as well as surprisingly dark. However the GPS had done nothing but tell them to go left since they'd driven away from Land's End. He thought it might possibly be possessed.
"It's trying to kill us," Dean agreed. "We should exorcise it."
"I don't want to get salt on it, we paid far too much for that thing."
"It wasn't exactly our money."
"Still."
They sat in silence for a few minutes more. The goose flapped gently down to the road and honked at them. Dean honked back and started the car.
Drive 700 yards and turn left the GPS said cheerfully.
"I'll shoot it," Dean said. "Where's the gun?"
"In the back. I'm not getting out to fetch it for you."
"This one thing, Sammy. This one thing."
"I love you, Dean, but that goose will kill me."
"Fair."
Drive 700 yards and turn left.
"Son of a bitch."