'I don't know why I let you drag me to these hippie hangouts,' Dean sniffed, scrutinizing the market-goers with a jaundiced eye, as if they were liable to grow fangs and leap at his throat!
'A farmer's market is not a hippie hangout, Dean. And you know exactly why you came. To buy the best organic peaches on sale, those with the golden fuzz, cos you're like an addict with peach pie ever since I found that recipe on internet.'
'Pfft,' Dean spat out. 'We're hunters, not cooks. I came with you for some fresh air, dude. Nothing more.'
'Oh no you don't! You've been like a dog with a bone, wanting ever more of that pie. So no more, play-acting, Dean. Go get the peaches.'
:
Dean knew when he was beaten and with an evocative scowl at his grinning sibling, he stalked off.
Sam's new ability to produce a mouth-watering, awesome, peach pie, meant the younger man had Dean by the short and curlies, amply demonstrated by the fact that Dean was personally willing to go buy the so sinful, fuzz-skinned fruit!
:::::::::::::::::
Leaning back in the chair, Dean caressed his stomach in satisfaction. 'If we ever give up hunting, we'll open a peach pie shop. That pie is more precious than gold.'
'We'd never have any pies to sell,' Sam laughed. 'Not with you around!'