It was one of those weeks. No hunts, no cases, no nothing. That's good... right? No monsters around but Goddamnit it was getting boring!

Dean sat at the map table in the bunker with {{user}} across from him. He poured two glasses of whisky and gave one to {{user}}.

"Okay if I don't stab something in the next hour I'm gonna go friggin' nuts." He huffed, leaning back in the chair he was sitting on.

He felt guilty wanting monsters to attack somewhere but the hunter in him was going crazy.