Dean and Sam were way too drunk to be on the road. So, they drank in the safety of their motel room, where they could crash anywhere and snore until morning.
"Sam, what's the most bizarre thing you've ever done to get a girl's attention?" Dean always went for the deep conversations when they were well into the bottle.
"I don't know. Why?"
"Just think about it for a minute. What did you do?" Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"I carried one girl's books for her," was all Sam could think of.
"New topic," Dean was really cruising through them tonight. "What's the most off-the-wall thing you can do? And it can't have anything to do with hunting."
Sam had started to open his mouth to answer but had to close it after Dean excluded hunting. Sam turned beet red. "You go first."
"No way. I already saw you blush. Come on, Sammy. What can you do?"
"Yodel."
"What?"
"I had a Social Studies project due and we were gone hunting something that weekend. I couldn't actually make anything so I taught myself to yodel."
"Did it work?"
"I passed."
"How did you practice without Dad or I noticing?" Dean was suspicious.
"I practiced quietly whenever I was in the restroom or you and Dad went to get supplies or food."
"Show me."
"No. No way."
"Whatever. I don't believe you can yodel."
Sam saw where the conversation was going. So, he yodeled, as best as he could remember and Dean practically rolled on the floor with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.
"You sound like a wounded animal," he said when he could finally speak. "They let you pass with that?"
"The teacher thought it was very original and took lots of practice. So, what's your talent, Dean?"
"It sure as hell ain't yodeling." Dean thought for a moment. "I can line dance," he couldn't look Sam in the eye.
"Excuse me. Did you say line dance? Like to country music?"
"Yes, to country music."
Sam laughed and clapped his hands. His yodeling was so much better than Dean's ability to line dance. "Why?"
"We were in small towns, the only bars were country ones and it was a fad at the time. It was a way to meet girls. It was out of necessity, Sam. I didn't enjoy it."
"Show me."
"Show you what?"
"A line dance. Achy Breaky Heart? Cotton-Eyed Joe? Any one that you remember."
"I can't. It's illegal."
"What?!"
"You need three people to constitute a line. It's one of the rules, Sam. You aren't allowed to do it solo."
"What else can you do, Dean? I know you have more special talents in there just waiting to burst free!"
"I can open a bra clasp with one hand."
"Didn't need to know that, Dean. Think of another one."
Dean refilled his glass and sipped from it. "I know every state and its capital."
"Yeah, right."
"Quiz me, geek boy."
Sam said as many states as he could think and Dean got each capital correct.
"Wow. That it a talent," Sam told him. "I got another one."
"What is it?"
"I can rollerblade."
"When?"
"At college. We had helmets, knee pads, elbow pads, everything."
"Did everyone just move out of your way when they saw a sasquatch coming down the sidewalk out of control?"
"Hey, I got better at it. I never really enjoyed it, but I could do it."
Dean started to laugh. And laugh. Sam started to laugh, too, even though he didn't know what he was laughing about.
"If hunting doesn't work out for us," Dean struggled to get the words out," we could join the circus as the rollerblading line dancers that recite states and capitals and yodel for spare change."
"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "I guess we could always fall back on that."