WITS END
... is a place where Sam spends a lot of time. WOW: Argue.
Disclaimer: I own nothing supernatural, although my passport photo is rather creepy.
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"QUIT ARGUIN' AND TAKE THE GODDAMN, FREAKIN' SONOFABITCH TABLETS BEFORE I RAM THE WHOLE FRIGGIN' BOTTLE DOWN YOUR NECK!"
Huddled and shivering, Dean sat on the bed rubbing his clammy forehead.
"Don' hafta shout, Sammy," he croaked, massaging his burning throat; "s'my throat that hurts, not my ears."
"WELL TAKE THE DAMN'…" Sam took a deep breath; "… tablets then."
"No. Don' like 'em, they make me tired."
"You're sick," Sam snorted through clenched teeth, trembling with frustration; "tired is good … YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO REST!"
Watery eyes peered up at the exasperated figure.
"How'm I s'posed to rest if you keep shoutin'?"
"AAAARRRGGGHHH!"
xxxxx
end