Title: You Got a Purty Mouth

Rating: T for language and general hilarity

Disclaimer: What's theirs is theirs, what's mine is mine. It's as simple as that.

Summary: Sam and Dean see Zombieland.

A/N: I just went and saw Zombieland with my roommate. Oh, my Lord. It's disgusting and hilarious and downright weird, all in one glorious box of awesome. Hands down, it's definitely a movie that Dean would bribe/bully Sam into seeing. Miniscule spoilers for Zombieland, if you really care that much.

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"God, what an awesome movie," Dean raved as he and Sam walked out of the theater into the chilly Oklahoma night. "That might have been even better than Star Trek."

"Shut up," Sam mumbled, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, brow furrowed in anger and frustration. Dean looked at his younger brother and knew he was in trouble. In fact, Dean was so in tune to Sam's bitch-face that he knew his doom was imminent when he said:

"So, how 'bout that zombie clown, Sammy?"

The death stare was immediately upon him, and lo, it was fearsome. Sam shook his head and growled, "I hate you."

Dean just cackled. "C'mon, Sam, it wasn't that bad!"

The younger Winchester stopped in the middle of the parking lot, glaring at his brother. "Dean, there was not one but two clowns in that whole damn movie! Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be for me to use a public restroom now?"

"So bring a gun with you into the bathroom!" Dean didn't even bother to mention how much Sam sounded like a wuss: he was pretty sure his little brother knew.

Sam scoffed. "That's not the point, Dean."

Reaching in his pocket for his keys, Dean sighed. "So what is the point, Sam?"

They both climbed into the Impala and slammed the doors shut before Sam turned to Dean and sent him a full-on puppy dog pout. "The point, Dean, is that I hate zombies. They spew guts and blood everywhere, they look like they are all begging to be run over, and they have an uncanny ability to just be creepy. Add a clown to the mix, and you literally just put me through my own personal hell."

Dean chuckled. "I'm sorry, Sam, I really am. You gotta admit, though, Woody Harrelson was funny as shit in that movie."

Sam smirked. "You sure got a purty mouth," he quipped, much to Dean's amusement. When they both stopped laughing, Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. As they began to merge onto the highway, he threw his arm over the seat and poked Sam in the shoulder. "I'm calling you Columbus from now on, by the way."

"Oh, come on!"

"No, no, Sam, it's only fitting – you both have an unnatural fear of clowns that bonds you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "So, I suppose you're Tallahassee, then?"

Dean smirked. "Damn straight."

After a moment of pouting, Sam broke into a wide grin, directing it straight at his brother. Dean was immediately nervous. "What? What?!"

"Oh, nothing." Sam stretched his long legs as far as they would go and locked his hands behind his head. "You can be Tallahassee all you like, but at least I get the girl."