"I don't know why you didn't want to come here, Sammy." said Dean, glancing around at the faux-fifties decor. "This place looks great!"

Vinyl seats with the stuffing showing through, tiled floor that he hoped had been painted grey, the food being picked at by tables full of bored-looking teenagers, it didn't exactly inspire Sammy's confidence. "Let me know in a couple hours if you still think it's great."

"Don't worry, little brother. This thing-" He slapped his stomach for emphasis, "is made of iron. Remember that fair back in Johnston County?"

"Ugh! Don't make me remember!"

"Boy those were good times!"

"You didn't have a shirt ruined over 'good times'."

"Eh, it washed out. Speaking of Johnston..." Dean stands again. "I gotta hit the can. Order while I'm in the john."

Nasty Burger has started to hit the first dinner hour rush. The was was obnoxiously long—for a fast food joint—the crowd of people snaking through the tables like a line at Disneyland. Sam gave Dean his best "Really?" look.

His brother shrugged back, half smirking. "Nature calls." Making his way back towards the mens room, Dean gestured Sam to get in line.

Trying not to roll his eyes, his brother got up. He muttered, loud enough for the teenagers behind him to hear, "Jerk didn't even tell me what he wanted."

On cue, Dean peaks his head out to holler at his brother, "Double cheeseburger" The bathroom door slams. Then opens again "And triple fries!"

At this, Sammy does roll his eyes and steps to the end of the line.

This entire time, neither of the brothers take notice of the trio listening in behind them—of not-so-normal teens trying very hard to sound like normal teens.

This is what had gone on during Sam and Dean's exchange:

"So how was..your game of... ball." It was supposed to be a question. But the question part was forgotten in Tucker's awkward delivery.

"Great," answered Sam, a little too loud. "Balls were…" she searched for the right term. "Made, we made lots of balls."

An old woman sitting close by gave their table a withering glare, then harrumphed, "Kids these days."

Scrambling, she retorted "How was your...piano lessons?" Tucker froze, he had never touched a (non-electrical) instrument in his life. "Uhh…"

Man, Sam was bad at lying on the spot. Tucker tried to recover. "They were..." He searched Sam's face, trying to read her thoughts for a good answer. She had none. "Fun?" He had found his missing question mark and put it in the wrong place.

As the bathroom door slammed behind Dean, Danny stopped the torture. "They're out of their seats," he whispered.

"They are?" Tucker asked. He had never actually gotten the courage to look at the brothers. Now he was openly searching for the guys they'd just been spying on.

"What'd I tell you," Sam dragged on Tucker's collar. "Don't be OBVIOUS."

"It's the guy at the end of the line," Danny confirmed.

Tucker did his best to slyly look over. "The one who looks like he just chopped down a tree?"

"Yeah," He gave a bit of a smile. "They both do. Maybe they're from Oregon?"

"Where'd the other guy go?" asked Sam.

"In the bathroom. Haven't broken eye contact since they came in."

"Ugh, So much for being subtle." She slipped a glance at the food line. "Well at least it looks like they aren't paying attention." They watched the man in line. Impossibly tall, with hair that looked like it came out of a shampoo commercial, he was hard to miss. Even from behind, Sam could tell this guy was attractive. She blushed at that thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Danny. "They said they were brothers…That might help us figure out who they are."

"And why exactly would we wanna figure that out?" Tucker asked.

"Maybe we can blackmail them," answered Sam. "From how you described them last night, their ghost-hunting methods don't sound exactly legal." Before he could protest, she stole a sip of Tucker's half-spilled soda.

"Hey!" Protectively, he scooched his tray closer to himself. "No more stealing Tucker's food!"

Sam rolled her eyes, while Danny snuck another onion ring. "Someday I'm gonna start charging you guys, then what?" mumbled Tucker. Ignoring him, Danny continued. "So we get some dirt on these guys, threaten to go to the police, get them to go away." For the first time today he started to look hopeful.

"Doesn't sound too bad to me," Tucker mumbled between a mouthful of onion rings. Eating food quickly was a great way to make sure it got into your stomach and not your moocher friends. "I mean, one: they don't know what you look like outside the suit, and two: we've already got one guy tailed!" He eye'd the man in line, ordering the Nasty Cobb salad. "Probably a softie anyways." Tucker turned back towards Danny. "So what's this other guy look like?"

He was answered by a man taking the shoulder of the man in line, smiling and talking familiarly. He wasn't as big as shampoo commercial, but he was still pretty tall. His clothes were worn, fit him well and a little rough around the had a permanent-looking 5 o'clock shadow giving him a rough and confident look. All in all, he looked like a model. But one that could gut you with a Bowie knife.

The color drained from Sam's face. "That's the guy you wanna blackmail? Gentle giant over there looks like a pushover, but that guy..." Sam slid over the tabletop. "He looks dangerous."

"Well, Danny did say that they were carrying shotguns," interjected Sam, her tone a little accusatory.

"Well so does my aunt," countered Danny. "But that doesn't make her dangerous. Well, it doesn't make her like, scary dangerous."

The next moment, all three of them were looking at the table, floor or ceiling.

The two Winchesters settled back into their booth, divvying out their meal. Immediately, Dean dug in. Fingers greasy from the wrapping, Sammy was busy trying to look up something on his phone. After a few tries, he was able to pull up the website of the local paper.

"Take a look at this," sliding his phone into Dean's line of sight. Dean squinted at an article titled, "Scientists or Screwups: How the Fentons Failed Amity Park."

"Harsh," Dean commented. "So what? Ghosthunting isn't exactly the most prestigious job."

"Yeah, in most cities. Because most cities don't actually believe in the supernatural." He gestured at a sign above him that said Spooky Special: Post a pic of your favorite ghost to Nasty Burger's website and get half-off our Wednesday shakes! "Here, ghosts are a given."

"I guess lucky them." He shrugged, still not getting where his brother was going.

"Business should be booming for these guys. Except for one thing." He swiped down to reveal a blurry photo that took up the entire screen. It was labeled "Amity Park's Phantom Boy Epidemic." If you squinted, you could see a black and white figure floating above a gas station sign. "It's the same kid we saw last night."

Dean perked up. "Ahh...The little smart-ass."

"Apparently the city's upset at the Fentons because they failed to catch the ghost. This ghost. Though…" Taking back his phone, he swiped through a few more articles. "They seem to change their opinion on whether the ghost is a menace…" He swiped a bit more. "Or some kind of hero."

Dean gave a sarcastic snort. "That'll be the day. Superhero ghosts. Sounds like a kid's cartoon."

"Weird or not, this 'ghost kid' shows up a lot. He's been involved with almost every major incident this year." He listed off, "An explosion at the high school...a quarantine at the high school...an giant monster made of lunch meat—at the high school." There was a puzzled look on Sam's face.

"Seems like there's a lot of incidents that happen at the high school," Dean added helpfully.

"Yeah…" There was a beat between them.

"Time to research?" asked Dean.

"Deaths at the high school?" added Sam

Taking up his brother's sandwich and what was left of his meal, Dean replied, "Guess we're taking this to go."

Hastily wiping his hands with a few napkins, Sammy got up as well. "We're not gonna do this like last time, are we?"

"What?" Dean winked. "Didn't like being the janitor?"

"No, I just didn't like you being the gym coach."

"Ah, those were the days."

"3 days."

"Still days."

The two left as Danny, Sam and Tucker stared after them, wide-eyed.

"Well, shit." said Sam.