God eats pie...
God and Dean sat in a nearly empty Bakers Square. Dean, as usual, had a slice of apple pie on the plate in front of him. God had the same, having never had any of the dishes on the menu Dean had read to her.
"Pie," Dean had told her. "You can never go wrong with pie."
So, God had ordered pie. Of course, she found the dessert interesting. Every time she discovered something new, she wanted to learn about or try it. She'd heard Dean speak very highly of pie many times before, so she was particularly excited about it.
"Here ya are," their waitress, a tall and rather anorexic looking woman with a southern accent, had said as she set the plates in front of them. She'd then proceeded away from their table.
So, God stared at her plate with interest. Things she recognized as "apple" slices spilled out the sides of a triangular shaped piece of "crust." She poked it tentatively with the utensil she'd come to know as a fork.
"It's not going to eat itself," Dean mumbled as he stabbed his own pie. God watched as he lifted the pie, and shoved it in his mouth. She was sure to note the precise movements of his hand which kept the insides of the dish from spilling out and off of his fork. Then, she replicated said motions and gently placed the crumbling dessert on her tongue.
As she slowly chewed, she understood why Dean would speak so highly of the food. Warmth spread through her as the crust crumbled and clumped in her mouth, and a jelly-like substance mingled with it. Warm slices of apple sat in the middle of it all, though they did not taste exactly as they had when she had first tried an apple. These were a bit more... spicy.
"Dean Winchester," God said, causing Dean to look away from his plate and up at her. "We must eat pie more often."