The impala veered and bucked, deftly avoiding the ghostly spires of the space dragon, its gaping maw seeking to plant its fangs in the bulkhead of the agile little spaceship.
"Now, Sammy," Dean roared as he fought to line the ship up to the dragon's head. "Fire that effing harpoon straight down the fugly's throat."
A lethal silver-tipped bolt shot from the Impala's port missile launcher, sped through the void, and entering the monster's gullet, blasted straight through its lymph node banishing it to Purgatory.
"Awesome shot, Dude," Dean crowed, reaching out to pat his brother on the shoulder.
"I've had plenty of practice," Sam replied with nonchalance, though secretly gratified by his big brother's praise.
"Yeah. They've gotten bolder these past few years, that's for sure," Dean retorted." Now they brazenly invade the space lanes and attack any civilian ship that comes into their sights."
"It's too bad only hunters have the ability to perceive them. It would be far easier if the military could spot them too."
:
Dean shrugged. "They tried to bring a hunter onto a warship as a lookout, but somehow they never spotted a single dragon."
Sam snorted."They may be ghost dragons but they're savvy enough not to engage a warship armed with multiple harpoons."
:
"So that leaves, us," Dean declared with a sigh. "Though I gotta say, facing up to one of them gives me an adrenaline-fuelled orgasm."
"You better pray that my aim stays true," Sam huffed, "'cos if one grabs hold of the Impala, we're dead."
"That's why I keep you around little brother. You're my insurance that we're gonna come out on top every time."
Sam's eye roll was more than eloquent!