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A/N: Howdy doodle! I got a better reaction to that last story than I expected-- thanks guys! I'm glad you're enjoying these! So today, ladies and gentlemen... I did something stupid. So increadibly stupid (ask Windy Fontaine... haha... I told her, and she agreed). But... with a stupid act, comes a good thing... it gave me a story idea. So tomorrow I am going to try and have out a story that entales my unbelievably stupid thing I did. So why am I telling you this now? To tease the holy hell outta you all. Haha... I'm a bitch.
Tonight's one shot, on the other figurative hand, is another lame attempt at my humor. It's a stupid one shot meant to make you smile at best. Enjoy!

Title: What if you were a chick Sam?
Genre: my God awful humor...
Summary: Bored out of his mind, Dean ponders what it would be like if Sam had been a girl... all to Sam's utmost annoyance.

What if you were a chick Sam?

Sam glanced down at his foot and sighed deeply. The white cast which covered it was now dirty and more gross looking than Sam would have cared. It had been on his foot for just over two weeks now, and Sam longed for the next week to hurry and go by so that he could take off the damn thing and Dean would finally let them leave the motel room.

"Not until you can walk without my ass having to drag you!"

Dean's words still rung clear in Sam's mind from two weeks ago after they left the hospital and Sam suggested they look up another hunt. Not that Sam even wanted to go on one right away; hell, it was a hunt that caused him to break five bones in his left foot. But Sam also didn't want to sit around in a crappy motel for three weeks.

Dean insisted they did.

"That'll teach you to jump from two stories up," Dean grinned from his respective bed as he caught sight of Sam staring at his foot.

"Pushed Dean, pushed," Sam corrected flatly.

"Whatever dude. You should of landed on your head; less damage."

"I should have landed on you," Sam shot back with a twitch of a smile, "There'd be even less."

Dean stretched as he attempted to find something interesting on the tv, "Just one more week of your beauty rest Samantha, then we can go."

"That joke just keeps getting funnier every time," Sam spoke sarcastically.

Dean smiled, then paused as a series of thoughts seemed to rush through his head. This was a dangerous thing, Sam had come to realize. Especially after being holed up in the same place for sixteen days straight-- Dean was starting to get desperate for entertainment.

"Hey Sam…"

"Yeah?" Sam regretfully responded.

Dean spoke slowly and with serious thought, "What if you were a chick?"

Sam stared dumbly at Dean for a few moments wondering if he had heard his older brother correctly. He knew that the pain pills he was given could cause drowsiness, but hallucinations? Or perhaps Dean's recent trip to the corner store wasn't just to pick up some groceries, but to really smoke some crack with the neighborhood tough guys, and he was now having a really bad reaction.

"Seriously…" Dean broke Sam's thoughts, "Think about it."

"I'm thinking you've been drinking," Sam half joked.

"Yeah, like I'd be here if I were drinking," Dean dismissed, "I was just thinking-- if you were a chick, would yellow eyes have still gone after you?"

Dean was serious!

"I don't think evil is sexist," Sam shifted awkwardly in his bed to get a better view of his brother, "Ava wasn't exactly a guy, and neither was that Lily girl in South Dakota."

"I bet Mom and Dad would have named you Samantha," Dean mussed, leaning back against the headboard; clearly amused in his thoughts.

"Dude, are you for real?" Sam laughed out in disbelief, "Or did you fall and smack your head on something?"

"Well the name fits you." Dean ignored Sam's comment, "I remember vaguely when Mom was pregnant with you. Dad would sit with me and tell me that there was a baby inside Mom… scared the holy hell out of me."

Sam laughed at this, "You're such an idiot."

Again Dean just ignored Sam's bantering, "But what if you ended up being a girl… Dad would have raised us totally differently even if Mom had died."

"What do you mean?" Sam's own morbid curiosity was wondering where Dean's thought process was taking him.

Dean absentmindedly played with a knife in his hand, "Well I know you were a wussy kid anyways, but if you were a girl, you'd have had an excuse," Dean's eyes suddenly lit up as he turned to Sam, "Just think Sammy-- you could have worn a dress without getting the crap beaten out of you!"

"It was a kilt, and a seventh grade play!" Sam shot out defensively.

Dean laughed, "Sure," again he went on before Sam could make any more comments, "You would have been an awesome hunter I bet… every month you'd become your own special superhero."

Sam laughed.

"No demon in the world would mess with you man," Dean got to his feet and wandered into the kitchen area in search of food, "That would have caused way cooler arguments between you and Dad. I wonder if he would have called you sweetie…"

"Dude, enough!" Sam laughed out.

Dean frowned, "I bet there would have been more hugs growing up too. Your pansy ass likes to do that enough now, just imagine a whole bunch of estrogen bouncing around inside you."

Sam watched deadpan as Dean pulled out a white container from the fridge and sniff its contents, "'Course we would have had to have separate bedrooms. No way would I have slept in the same room as your frilly ass."

"What the hell are you eating?" Sam questioned watching Dean dig into his new found food.

Dean frowned, staring down into the container, "I don't know. Want some?"

Sam could feel the color drain somewhat from his face, "I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself," Dean shoveled another mouthful of food into his mouth.

Slowly, and to Dean's critical eye, Sam stood up and grabbed the crutches that were sitting by his bed. Though the prospect of eating whatever Dean was eating made his stomach churn, the younger brother couldn't ignore the grumble for sustenance.

"What're you doing?" Dean questioned as his brother made his way into the kitchen.

"Getting some food," Sam stated.

"I could have got you something," Dean's big brother mode started to click in as he surveyed Sam's attempt at walking.

The young hunter once again looked at the container in Dean's hand, "I want to actually live to know what I'm eating."

Dean rolled his eyes, "You're too picky dude." he paused before putting in, "If you were a chick, I bet you'd be worse."

"Are you still going on with that?" Sam asked exasperated.

Dean shrugged, "Got nothing else to do… know what else I bet you'd have been good at?"

Again, regretfully, Sam responded, "What?"

"Getting stuff," Dean stated, "You know, instead of using all my hard earned money, all you'd have to do it flash some of your--"

"Dean!" Sam burst in a half laugh as he pulled a box of crackers from the cupboard.

"All I'm saying is that your assets would have come in handy," Dean spoke innocently.

"I'm going to kick your ass if you keep this up," Sam was only have serious and he wondered how much it would hurt Dean if he kicked him with his cast.

"No you won't," Dean brushed off the threat, "I can run faster than you."

"Right now," Sam smirked, "But just wait a couple of weeks."

Dean scoffed, "Yeah… like I'd really hang around."

"Your insufferable need to annoy me in any way possible would keep you here," Sam spoke the truth as he shoved food into his mouth.

"I bet you'd still have that annoying habit of talking in your sleep," Dean mused.

"Enough!" Sam demanded with a grin.

"Ok, ok," Dean laughed as he set down his container.

"You're like the energizer bunny," Sam commented in amazement, "If you put this much effort into school when you were a kid you would have been a genius."

"Naw," Dean grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom door, "I left that for you Samantha."

Dean's laugh echoed through the motel room as Sam's shoe hit solidly with the closed bathroom door.

The End.