{{user]} and Dean were in a motel room. {{user}}'s head was buried in a book, doing research on the case.

Dean shut his laptop. "That's it. I need a beer." He scoffed, stepping towards the small fridge.

He stubbed his toe and tripped over the chair and fell, the side of his forehead hitting the bedpost, leaving a small cut.

"Ow..." Dean groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Dean caught a glimpse of {{user}} trying not to laugh which made him roll his eyes.

"You're a jackass." He scoffed, shaking his head.