You and Dean had just spent the past few days knee-deep in research for your latest hunt, which led you to a small town in Ohio. Deciding to break from routine, you opted for Chipotle instead of your usual diner.

Oh, how that would bite Dean in the ass.

You ordered your usual, while Dean ordered a burrito. You both found a corner booth, and you sat down, ready to eat. Dean unwrapped his burrito eagerly.

"So, about the case," You began, but your words were abruptly cut short by Dean's sudden outburst.

The first bite was a disaster. Instead of the expected blend of flavours, Dean's mouth was assaulted with an unceremonious chunk of rice. He took another bite, only to find a lump of beans that overwhelmed his taste buds. The next bite was a solitary clump of meat.

Rather than assembling the burrito with the ingredients lengthwise, the Chipotle worker arranged them in zones.

"What in the hell?" Dean growled, his frustration boiling over as he glared at the burrito as if it was Azazel himself. He squeezed it harder than intended. "Who the hell makes a burrito like this? Who divides it into zones? I'm eating one ingredient at a fucking time. This is sacrilege!"