Dean waddled into the room, his giant pot-belly entering before him. He went over to the couch and slowly sat down with a pie. Not a piece of pie, a whole pie. Sam glanced over at him and sighed.
"Dude, you're going to get fat...Oh wait. Too late."
"Shut up, faggot. At least I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh come on. I thought you had come to terms with that fact."
"And I thought we had come to terms with the fact that I was fat. That didn't stop you from insulting me about it."
Sam snorted his whatever and walked over to the fridge. As he grabbed out a salad, he knocked Dean's other pie off the shelf accidentally. Dean looked up with that what have you done face and got up, not without a struggle, and walked over to the pie splattered on the kitchen floor.
"Sorry."
Dean looked up with a depressed look on his face.
"Dude...what happened to us? We used to be fierce hunters. Now...look at us. You're gay and I...I look like a giant version of Bobby! How did this happen? We...we need to fix this."
"Well what do you suspect we do. You hated exercising even before you looked like one of the three little pigs. And...I can't really change my feelings about the male sex."
"You...you can stay gay. Whatever. I...I'll jump on a treadmill. You better get in shape, too. I mean, we both have been slacking. Obviously. We can do this. Alright. We need to start now. Aannnnnd...GO!"
Neither man made a move or showed effort in any way. Dean shrugged.
"Mhm...We tried. Oh well."
They settled back into the couch and started watching X-Files.
"Amatuers."