Better be a Bad Joke
There are a lot of things Dean has done for a case… but this, this is too much…
"Will you stop pouting?" San snarled as he readjusted himself in the uncomfortable chair he'd been sitting in for the last two hours, "It's just for a week, tops. Then we're back in the Impala."
"I'm not pouting." Dean snapped fiercely, crossing his arms and sinking lower into his chair, "And this is ridiculous, there's nothing wrong with my ba-"
"Except she's far to conspicuous for us to do our jobs this time." Sam cut him off. They'd been having this argument since they'd walked in the building, and Dean was grating on what little was left of Sam's frayed nerves, "The Impala's on the side lines for this one. Get over it."
What ever stinging retort Dean was about to make dies on his tongue when the man they'd been working with to rent a car pulled up outside the front door with their rental, "Oh hell no!"
"… You have got to be kidding me." Sam said in disbelief, looking at the tiny, black and white Smart Car, "How exactly am I suppose to fit in that thing?"