Lovely Δ SPN [ 1 ]

chapter fifty-four

The three Winchesters are at the motel while the boys are working on a case. They reunited a few weeks, still not being as close as before, but better now.

Dean puts on a pair of goggles and a pair of gloves. He picks up a joy buzzer, looking at the large uncooked ham on the table. He turns to Sam.

"You ready?" Dean asks.

"Hit it, Mr. Wizard." Sam says. He holds a pair of goggles over his eyes, holding another pair of Evie's eyes. Dean holds the joy buzzer to the ham, making it steam and blacken. Dean removes the joy buzzer as they all take their goggles off.

"That'll do, pig." Dean says.

"What the hell?" Sam asks. "That crap isn't supposed to work."

"This thing doesn't even have batteries." Dean says.

"So... so, what? Are-- are we looking at cursed objects?" Sam asks.

"Sounds good." Dean nods. He pulls a knife out and cuts off a piece of ham. "Maybe there's a powerful witch in town. Is there any link between the, uh, the joy buzzer and the itching powder?"

"Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both brought from the same store." Sam says. Dean cuts off another piece of ham and holds it out to Sam who shakes his head so Dean eats the ham.

+++

They walk into the joke store, Sam holding Evie's hand, her other hand holding her dog.

"Sam!" Dean calls, going to an aisle and picking up a whoopee cushion. He holds it up and grins. Sam sighs, shaking his head, turning away from his brother. Dean carries the whoopee cushion up to the checkout counter, seeing a display of rubber chickens. The owner walks to the counter.

"Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery." The owner greets.

"You the owner?" Sam asks.

"Yep." The owner nods.

"You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren't exactly big ticket items. Look, you boys here to buy something out what?" The owner asks.

Dean takes some cash out, showing the whoopee cushion, and giving the man the money.

"So, you get many customers?" Sam asks.

"Kids come in. They don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break stuff. These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just--"

"Angry?" Dean asks. The owner nods.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for 20 years, and now it's wasting away to nothing." The owner says.

"Which is why you hate them." Dean says.

"I suppose." The owner shrugs.

"You wish there was something you could do about it." Dean says.

"Yeah, I guess I do."