"Where'd you get the canvas and paints?"

"Upstairs closet."

"Huh." Dean peered at the canvas. "Who woulda thought you could use a marshmallow as a paintbrush. Pretty cool, Sammy."

Sam flushed, pleased. "Gives it a cool texture." He looked at Bobby, hunched over a static-filled, 10-inch t.v., watching Dallas and Miami scrimmage hell out of each other. "Besides, not much else to do. I like football, but not enough to watch it on that thing."

"No shit." Dean glanced out the window at the snow. "Hey, Bobby, did you see Sam's painting?"

Bobby glanced over, grunted. "Kid's a freaking virtuoso."