Demons
Dean rushed into the house, followed closely by his little brother who was trying his best to keep up. The older boy began rummaging through closets and cabinets and backpacks, when his dad's voice floated in from the kitchen.
"Hey boys," John started, as he came into the living room. "How was school?" He stopped when he saw his eldest frantically searching for something. "What are you looking for, son?"
"Where did you put the holy water, dad?" Dean asked anxiously.
"In my pack in the bedroom," came the answer. "Why do you need it?
"I'm going to slip it into my teacher's water bottle that she keeps on her desk."
"Your teacher? Why?"
"Well, I'm sure she's a demon, but that would prove it before I have to do an exorcism."
"Exorcisms are in Latin, son, and your Latin stinks."
"I'll figure it out. She has to be stopped!" Dean was in the bedroom by now, and was ransacking his father's pack, looking for the holy water.
"Dean, sit down and leave my stuff alone." John sat on the bed and patted the mattress. (Sam had long since given up on following his brother, now that he was home, and had plopped in front of the television).
"Just calm down a little, Dean, and tell me why you think your fourth grade teacher is a demon."
"She yelled at me!" Dean blurted, as it that made it obvious.
"What for?"
"Well, I was gluing Terry's homework to the desk, but…"
"Yelling might have been over-reacting, but really, Dean, you can't…"
"That's not all," Dean defended his position. "When we were out on the playground, Mark Johnson was picking on Sammy, and my teacher sent me to the principal's office when I decked the dude."
John sat in silence, wondering why he hadn't gotten a call from the principal yet. But his son wasn't finished.
"And when I saw out the window, during the kindergarten's second recess, that Sammy fell down, Mrs. Carlson wouldn't let me go out to him."
"I'm sure his teacher…"
"Dad, come on, how much proof do you need?" Dean was becoming annoyed. "Help me get the holy water. Tomorrow morning, I'll just sneak in the room before school, and take her water bottle and…"
"Dean, I really don't think your teacher is a demon."
"She gave me four pages of MATH homework, dad! Who else but a demon would do that?"
"Hmmm, four pages, huh? I would have thought that was demonic when I was in fourth grade, too."
Dean smiled, satisfied. "Like I said. So where is the holy water, dad!?"
End