Five hours later, Dean had admitted himself into the psychiatric ward. His hands shook as he explained the tramatic experience to the nurse.
"I...I...I don't know...It was awful."
The nurse looked at him with pity. "Oh, honey, you have no idea. Twerking is the new fad. It's better than Crocs!"
Dean sighed and shook his head. "I need help. I'm hallucinating. And... I feel this odd sensation in my butt. It's almost like it wants me to twerk. I can feel it pulsing through my veins."
"Maybe it runs in the family," the nurse suggested.
He thought of Sam, wondering if he was all right with Cas. Little did he know that they were having twerk-offs on the hotel beds. Where did the zebra thong come from? It had looked great on Sam, and it perfectly accentuated Cas's nice, round butt. Dean wondered if he could have a butt like that too.
"TWERK IT LIKE ITS 2012!" Cas yelled to Sam.
Sam nodded and began to shake his butt. Lucifer watched from the corner, smiling. He silently applauded himself for sticking the thong into Sam's suitcase. It looked fabulous on him. But Sam hadn't noticed him yet. That was partially a good thing.
"Only a matter of time, Sammy," Lucifer grinned. Soon Sam would be so infatuated with twerking that he could have twerk-offs in the dark with Lucifer.
Sam collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Cas took his place, ripping off his trench coat to reveal a new thong, this one a hot pink lace. The two men did not even think about Dean Winchester, who was still in the hospital waiting room. All they thought about was twerking.
It had consumed their thoughts.
It had transformed them into magnificent butterflies...
And it was slowly eating away at their souls.
Should I have a Kevin twerk-off next?