Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

E/O Challenge: 'Friday the 13th'. 100-word & 200-word drabbles. #1: Is someone pulling the wool over Sam's eyes? #2: Don't you just hate it when you lose track of the date?

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Friday the 13th

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A/N: Is someone pulling the wool over Sam's eyes? 100 words.

No Thanks to Those Meddling Kids

"Do not be misled: 'Bad company corrupts good character.'" - 1 Corinthians 15:33

"You're still asleep?" complained Sam.

"Yes," Dean groaned into his pillow, "You know I never get outta bed on Friday the 13th,"

Sam rolled his eyes. "So, I checked out the site of those killings."

"Yeah?" yawned Dean.

"It's an old cemetery off Mockingbird Land, by Crystal Lake,"

"Sounds familiar..." murmured Dean, scratching his head.

"I spoke to this creepy caretaker... 'old man Smithers'."

Dean snorted.

Sam continued, "He suggested I speak to a Jason Voorhees, who apparently saw something while going to hockey practice."

"You really never looked up from those text books growing up, did you?" Dean interrupted.

"Hey, I'm not from around here." – Clay [Jared Padalecki], Friday the 13th [2009]

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A/N: Don't you just hate it when you lose track of the date? 200 words, sorry!

Paraskevidekatriaphobia

"Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives' tales;rather, train yourself to be godly." - 1 Timothy 4:7

The sun shone in a beautiful blue sky, and all was well in the world. Dean left Sam snoring peacefully in bed, pulled on some clothes and swaggered his way to the diner just next door.

Stepping up to the counter, Dean's stomach growled at the description of the breakfast meatfeast on special. Already salivating, he struggled not to let his jaw drop at the sight of the gorgeous waitress that sashayed her way over to him. "Hey, there sugar, how you doin'?" she purred, the sultry tone making his insides flip.

"I'm having a great freakin' day so far," he declared.

"Glad you're so positive, honey, seeing as it's Friday the 13th and all," she flirted.

Dean visibly paled. "W-what?"

"Sorry, I'm late Brandi," called the matronly woman rushing in, switching on the TV as she passed.

"No problem. So we're out of the meatfeast, but there's still plenty of the oatmeal special."

Brandi winked at Dean, "I'll leave you in Madge's capable hands."

"So what're you having, young man?"

The TV crackled in the background "...FBI are offering a significant reward for the whereabouts of Dean Winchester..."

The faint sound of Sam's Hell-induced nightmares echoed from next door.

(;,;)