ameliacareful:

MRS TRAN

Losing
my soul – is it going to hurt?

DEAN

Probably.

MRS TRAN

Will I
die?

SAM

No.
You’ll just wish you were dead.

 

(What’s
Up Tiger Mommy)

           RoboSam was
relatively courteous about the fact that he didn’t sleep. He tried not to keep Dean awake.  Dean tried to think of him as Sam
sometimes. Now that he knew Sam’s soul
was in Hell, he couldn’t.  It was like
living with a shifter.  But for whatever
reason, RoboSam seemed to have latched on to Dean as a kind of compass.  He asked questions and his questions always
backed Dean into explanations that sounded stupid even to Dean.  Like the night some very drunk guy was making
a ruckus in a bar about what pansy asses the Bengals were.  The game wasn’t local and nobody seemed to be
particularly for or against either Bengals or the Packers.  The bartender suggested the guy keep it down
but Mr. Cincinnati-Hasn’t-Had-A-Real-Team-Since-The-Freezer-Bowl was on a
roll.  Until Sam got up, put a big hand
on the guy’s shoulder and said, “You’re stupid, you’re drunk, you’re loud and
you should shut up now because nobody thinks your comments are insightful.”

           The guy was
too drunk to care that RoboSam was 6’4” and 230 pounds with less than 10% body
fat.  

           It didn’t
help that the bar was clearly on RoboSam’s side, although Dean wasn’t sure that
RoboSam much tracked that kind of thing.

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