043. scooby-doo girl and norman

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Sam and the siblings get to the waffle house that Dean told Sam to meet him at. Dean is at the counter and just received a plate of waffles, an already empty plate next to him.

"Oh. Hey, did you bring any, um...?" Dean motions to his head. Sam takes a bottles of pills out of his jacket, giving them to Dean. "Yes."

"Sounded like you could use it." Sam says.

"Oh, man." Dean groans, taking a couple of pills.

"Rough night?" Sam asks.

"Rough morning." Dean says, downing the pills with a gulp of coffee. Daphne goes over the menu before pointing at what she wants and Billy orders for them.

"Wh-What happened? I mean, you just went out to get some food." Sam says.

"Yeah. After you didn't come back within two hours, I had to go get food. Thanks a lot." Billy says.

"I-I guess I blacked out. And judging from this hangover, it was epic." Dean says.

"Well, I tried to call you." Sam says.

"Um..." Dean holds up his cracked phone. "Not sure how that happened."

"Great." Sam sighs. "All right, well, I'll text mom, make sure she knows to get a hold of me in case of emergency. And Cas, in case he tracks down Kelly." Sam says as he does so. Dean looks at him confused. "The mother of Lucifer's love child." He reminds.

"Right. Right." Dean nods. "Yes, the Devil baby mama drama. Say that five times fast. Devil baby mama drama."

"All right, Dean, you know, uh, you had a good run, but maybe let's pump the brakes a little bit. I mean, you're not 20 anymore." Sam says as the siblings get their food.

"Okay, one, the Rat Pack partied till the day they died. And B, I can still kick your ass." Dean says. "Mm. Got a man who needs some waffles down here." He calls out.

"Oh, no. I'm-I'm fine. I'm..." Sam tries to object.

"You can just take these if you want." Dean slides the plate over to him.

"No, Dean. Look, the morgue opens in, like, 10 minutes." Sam says, looking at his watch.

"The morgue?" Dean asks.

"The autopsy results." Sam reminds. "Are you still drunk?"

"I don't think so." Dean says. Sam leans over and sniffs Dean.

"All right, our-our case?" Sam reminds. "The dead guy, throat stuffed full of money. Any of this ring a bell?"

"Right, yes. Um... the accountant. Barry Gilman."

"Right."

"Right. Uh, and you think he got his ticket punched by a demon."

"Maybe."

"Okay, but when we went over to his place yesterday, we got a whole bunch of jack and a little bit of squat. There was no hex bags, no EMF, no sulfur, which means no case."

"Yeah, but if it's not a case, then what is it?"

"I don't know. Death by money? You know, maybe the guy got whacked by, uh, some mob dude with an ironic sense of humor."

"All right. Well, I'm gonna go scope out the body. If you wanna spend some more alone time with, uh, your waffles... all right. Have fun."

"Fine, hold up." Dean gets up.

"Did you pay?" Sam asks.

"Oops, no. Right." Dean takes his wallet out.

"You two coming?" Sam asks the siblings.

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