A/N: Consider yourself disclaimed.
Word: Wicked
Word Count: 100
No Spoilers Needed
Dean loosened his tie and sagged a little in the summer heat. A vengeful spirit, a South Boston apartment in mid-August with cold spots. With no central air, these people should probably have been thanking the ghost.
They were trying to follow the tale of a disgruntled mother and her teenage son.
"That bitch threw my cah keys at me! I'm not leaving, I paid the rent!"
Sam ignored Dean, knowing the grin his older brother was wearing would be infectious. "Anything else?"
The kid fidgeted, barely containing his excitement. "It was wicked pissah!"
Dean paused. "That good or bad?"