TIME FOR TEA
WOW: scrub. Crowley's such an ungrateful houseguest
Disclaimer: I don't own them
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Crowley stared into the mug with thinly disguised contempt.
"What the hell is this?"
"What d'y think," Dean snorted gruffly; "You asked for tea. That's what you got."
"Tea?" Crowley stared at the offensive liquid; "gnats' piss more like."
"Don't drink it then," sighed Sam.
"Drink it? I'd rather scrub the floor with it," Crowley snapped. "Is that a hair floating on top, or a crack in the bottom of the cup?"
"I'll put a crack in your head soon," Dean warned.
"So hostile," Crowley replied; "but I know you don't mean it – I can see right through you…"
"… just like this tea," he smirked.
xxxxx
end
