Handling the Situation

"Oh my god, Sammy."

Dean quivers in terror, pointing at a massive black shape in the darkness.

"What Dean?"

"Look."

"Where?"

"Over there."

"Dean, will you please just buck up and focus on getting us the hell out of here?"

"But look."

(sigh) "Holy… what is that thing?"

(gulp) "Tarantula?"

"Since when are tarantulas out here?"

"Don't ask me. You're supposed to be the one doing the research on all this crap. Sammy?"

"What?"

"I take back what I said. The wild west sucks."

"Dean."

"…"

"Dean!"

"What!"

"Don't just stand there, run! It's coming towards us!"

The eldest faints.

FIN