Y/N: Stuart, the presentation is tomorrow and we aren’t even half way through! Help me here!
Stuart: nooo, just let me finish watching this game first
Y/N: you hate soccer!
Stuart: do I have to???
Y/N: yesss!! I can’t do this alone
Stuart: you want to get tacos or something
Y/N: you’re useless
Stuart: after we finish?
Y/N: so you’ll help?
Stuart: hypothetically, if we get tacos after…
Sonata is happy. But only for a moment. Even she realizes
that this is not going to end well soon as the world becomes flooded in sloppy
bean soft and hard-shelled delights that flop and crack against houses and cars
and street pavements and create collateral damage like some kind of surreal
hail storm from a fever dream.
“No! No! Not like this! This wasn’t the way I wanted it!”
eating all these burritos. I’ll have to pay the consequences later on tonight!”
Dean to Sam
the line, “You’re gassy! You eat half a burrito and you get toxic!”
It was just supposed to be a quick drink after a hunt – a
time-honoured tradition between yourself and the Winchesters. However, you and
Dean ended up in a drinking contest (If
you can drink more purple nurples than me I’ll sand my own face off and eat it)
and, never one to give in, you both ended up completely and utterly
hammered. Sam, (bless your pure, white,
cinnamon-roll soul) had opted into being your designated driver at that
You’ve just stumbled out of the bar and Sam is dragging you
both by the arms towards the Impala. You’re whining something incoherent about
missing the warmth and Dean is looking for his keys – which Sam produces from
his own pocket, much to Dean’s dismay.
The younger Winchester manages to corral you both into the
back seat and drive off. Just a minute into the journey, you lean over to Sam.
“I gotta pee.” You say quietly – or, so you think – and he
rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, and I’m hungry.” Dean adds, “Can we stop at Taco
“Yeah! I can pee and we can get tacos!” You agree
wholeheartedly. Sam rolls his eyes and agrees, if only for the sake of keeping
you both happy. Sam pulls up to the drive-thru and waits in the queue
(apparently Taco Bell is popular at three AM on a Saturday morning) while you
climb out of the car.
“Can I get a burrito?” Dean asks, and Sam nods in order to
get his brother to shut up. However, a few seconds later you reappear, holding
a large paper bag. You hurl yourself into the car and drop the bag on Dean’s
“Quick!” You slur, “Drive, drive, drive!”
Sam takes one look at you and, thinking something’s wrong,
puts his foot on it and drives out onto the road. You take the bag back from
Dean and look inside, giggling with glee.
“I took it from the guy at the counter,” You admit
mischievously, “Want one?”
“Did you get burritos?” Dean asks. You shrug.
“I don’t know what’s in there.” You say, “Take a look.” You
upend the bag over the middle seat and Dean grins, snatching up one of the
“You’re my favourite.” Dean declares, taking a bite out of
the burrito. You pick up a taco and throw the rest at Sam, who rolls his eyes
at you and takes a bite anyway. If you
can’t beat ‘em, join em.
You eat your taco and as Sam drives back, you find yourself
dozing off – when you come to, the boys are bickering.
“Dean, be quiet.”
“Then stop eating all these burritos. I’ll have to pay the
consequences later on tonight!” The elder Winchester protests. Sam sighs.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You’re gassy! You eat half a burrito, and you get toxic!”
You decide that that is the appropriate moment to chime in
with the opening riff to Britney Spears’ Toxic.
Both brothers look at you, and, in perfect unison, say, “Go back to sleep,
You groan, turning over and closing your eyes once more – you
have better things on your mind. Like goats.