M&Ms and Pink Bananas
Prompt: #94 for the SPN Halloween Challenge - Dean and Sammy eat all the candy before the trick-or-treaters arrive. When they do, they start passing out various household items -- kitchen utensils, packets of salt, magical charms, etc.
"Dude, what a score! This is better'n Christmas," Dean declared, while chomping away at another ButterFinger. Licking the last smear of chocolate from his fingertips, he continued to evaluate the ever decreasing pile of treats in the chipped, rose-embossed flower pot that was serving as this year's Halloween serving bowl. "I can't believe Dad shelled out hard-hustled cash for this stuff. But then, again," he considered, licking his lips to capture yet another taste of divine candy creation, "I'm not complaining. No way."
Carefully de-vesting a set of Reese's Cups of their appropriately-colored orange and brown wrapper, Sam pondered whether it was best to approach the task at hand from the center, or to begin a deliberate assault from the outside perimeter. Deciding on the external route, he sunk his teeth into the perfect blend of peanut butter and chocolate, actually moaning in delight as the confection melted away in his mouth. "Me neither. I guess Dad figured it was a small price to pay for us being able to crash here while Mr. Smithfield's out of town. And I have to say, the beds here are way better than at that last motel we ended up in. I can still feel that spring digging into my shoulder," Sam mused, eyes half closed as he attempted to enjoy every second of his edible ecstasy.
As the afternoon progressed, each of the brothers made frequent stops at the candy bowl. Get the gun oil, grab a Tootsie Roll. Finish washing the lunch dishes, snatch a Snickers. And so on. As the afternoon sun began to fade into dusk, both young men prepared to settle in for an evening of playing hosts to some of the town's perkiest rugrats. As Sam drug two worn wooden rockers out to the center of the home's wraparound porch, Dean emerged through the front door carrying the candy bowl.
"No wonder my belly's complaining... Just how much candy did we put away today?" he inquired while rubbing his stomach in an attempt to quiet its churning. Looking into the bowl at its greatly diminished content, his face actually began to take on a greenish hue. "Man, if I have to smell chocolate much more tonight, I'm gonna hurl," he complained, following up with a less than delicate burp.
Settling into the seat beside his brother, Sam also looked at their small pile of treats. "Wow. We did wipe out quite a bit, didn't we? You apparently more than me, bro. I'm full, but at least I won't be praying to the porcelain god any time soon," he laughed.
"Laugh it up, Jolly Green. Guess you'll be stuck out here all alone, with a swarm of baby Batmans, while I'm suffering. At least my agony will be short-lived. Yours could last all night long. And you know how sweet kiddies are on a sugar high, don'tcha Sammy," Dean taunted, sarcastic to a fault, even in his time of suffering. That said, he took note of the first group of trick-or-treaters making their way up the path to the porch. Glossy plastic pumpkins and sparkling pink wands in hand. "Guess it's show time," he declared with a sigh.
An hour later found the Brothers Winchester with an abundance of visitors and a dwindling supply of treats. As Sam handed out the last Pixie Stick, he announced, "That's it. We are officially out of candy, and its only 7PM. Dad told us to man our stations until at least 10PM. Damn. Why did the old guy have to live in sucha perfect little neighborhood complete with 2.5 kids in every house anyway?" Standing and stretching the kinks out of his arms, he picked up the empty bowl and proceeded back into the house. Making his way back to the kitchen, he began to scan the area for potential treats. After passing over silver bullets and baggies of rock salt, he began pulling out drawers and opening up cupboards in search of supplies.
After roughly fifteen minutes, the frustrated hunter found himself facing a very unusual pile of trick or treat goodies for the children of Tall Tree Lane. From shish kabob sticks to miniature raison boxes, the assortment covered nearly every aspect of the average American household. That is if your not a Winchester. Sam was truly amazed at all the junk one household could accumulate. Taking a deep breath, he swept his hand across the counter top and deposited his newfound treasures into a large plastic bag and made his way back to the porch.
Upon arrival, he noted that his brother had received quite a bit of company in his absence. There were princesses, goblins, M&Ms, and other assorted action heros and ghouls milling around the yard and porch. Spotting the taller man stepping out onto the Welcome mat, they began a steady swarm towards the candy bowl.
"Man! What the heck took you so long? I thought I'd have to start handing out cash to satisfy these little heathens! One of 'em even poked me in the butt with her pitchfork!" Dean exclaimed as he nervously shoved his long fingers through his spiked hair. "So... What did you score for us?"
"OK... Before you say anything... Just remember I was desperate," Sam sputtered, now a bit unsure of how well his 'treasures' would actually go over with the suburban crowd. Dumping his bag into the candy bowl, he deliberately avoided making eye contact with his big brother and summoned forth the troops with a perky "Hey guys, we're back in business! Come and get it!"
From that point forward, the boys kept the candy bowl far enough away from parents and children to avoid prying eyes and strategically crammed handfuls of treats into each plastic pumpkin and glossy, handled bag. Before long, the number of visitors began to dwindle. Eventually around 10pm, the exhausted brothers collapsed in their chairs and heaved twin sighs of relief. "I guess that's it... Man, am I glad that's over," Sam mused, closing his eyes and leaning back.
"Yeah, I see the lights going off over at the neighbor's place, so I think we're safe to head on in," Dean agreed, as he grasped the now empty bowl and rose to go inside. "Come on, little brother, I think we earned our keep for tonight. Let's go relax and enjoy a bit of Halloween fun ourselves. This old guy has cable, and I read in the TV Guide that Vampire Babes from Outer Space is coming on any minute." Noting the blush that automatically colored his brother's cheeks, he found himself chuckling to himself despite his aching feet. As he and Sam made their way inside, he flipped off the porch light and locked the front door.
About half an hour later, as the Vampire Babes were just making their mark on mankind, the doorbell rang with a shrill ring. Looking across the bowl of buttery popcorn situated between them on the comfy plaid couch they were both sprawled upon, the brothers exchanged questioning looks. "I did recon earlier in the kitchen, it's your turn now," Sam stated. He had his long legs stretched out, ending with his socked feet on the coffee table. No way was he moving an inch at this point in the game.
"OK, ya wuss. What are you afraid of anyway? The boogeyman?" Dean muttered as he practically stomped to the front door. Peering out the peephole in the door, he suddenly became both apprehensive and confused. Standing before the door was a red M&M flanked by a not so redheaded, middle-aged soccer mom in a cardigan. And she did not look amused.
Flipping on the porch light and cautiously opening the front door, he poked his head out and inquired,"Hey. What can I do for you nice folks at this hour?" Immediately he knew he was in deep trouble.
With her eyes flashing and her lips drawn into a hard line, Mommie Dearest replied, "Well, young man, I'm having just a perfect evening. Did a little trick or treating with my son Randall here, got quite a bit of treats, and made it home safe and sound. Everything really was going quite well until my son came to me asking about the little goody you tossed into his pumpkin right before we went home. Imagine my surprise when he asked me about the fancy banana cover you gave him." Raising an eyebrow at that last statement, the fuming mother stood tapping her foot and glancing between her little Randall and the older boy standing in front of her with a thoroughly confused look on his face.
"Banana cover? What the heck are you talking about lady? We didn't have any..." he stuttered to a halt a second later, as the mother reached into her cardigan pocket and withdrew a torn aluminum wrapper and a neon pink latex item. She quickly shoved them in Dean's hand as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Maybe you should be more careful about what you hand out to trick or treaters next time. Or better yet, maybe you should be more careful about where you leave your 'protection' lying about. What do you think young man?"
Face flaming, Dean made eye contact with poor, traumatized Randall. Just when he thought he had summoned up the courage to look up to his mother and offer his most solemn apologies, he heard heavy footsteps coming up behind him. Next thing he knew, Sam's deep voice declared, "Hurry up man! You should these Vampire Babes! They remind me of some of those chicks your always picking up at the bar, big..."
"SAM!! Not another word!" Dean screeched, slamming the door behind him to cut off the noise. "Ma'am I'm so sorry about all this..."
"Vampire Babes, huh?" the mother asked, shaking her head sadly. "You see, Randall... This is why Daddy and I send you to private school." And taking her young charge's hand in hers she quickly marched off the porch and into the night.