Please Note:

This story is a continuation of The Brady Crunch, which explains why I recycled it here at the beginning. If you've already read The Brady Crunch, skip to Chapter 2 for new words!

I'll be leaving the original The Brady Crunch up, however, so I don't erase the reviews that were so kindly left for it.

Chapter 1: The Brady Crunch

The Impala fishtails, its tires aquaplaning on the flooding desert asphalt.

"Uh… Dean… pull over," Sam urges, his hand tightening on the door's arm rest.

"Relax, Sammy. I can handle it. We just gotta outrun this sucker," Dean assures him. He's leaning forward, chest almost against the steering wheel. The windshield is almost opaque, the wipers struggling to keep up with the midnight downpour.

Lightning streaks all around them. A powerful blue bolt crackles down and smashes into that tempting chunk of black steel.

The noise is deafening. The light is blinding.

The night turns to noon and the desert into a suburban neighborhood.

They were still topping eighty miles an hour.

Sam registered two details of the scene as his vision clears: They blew past a sign warning '30 mph.' All the cars in the driveways were the age of the Impala.

A furry blur darted into the road.

Dean slammed the brakes before Sam could yell a warning.

SCREEEEEEECH!

Thumpthud.

"Awww, man!"

They got out and walked back several yards to where a big scruffy looking terrier mix lay sprawled in the street, tongue lolling, eyes glazing over.

Dean nudgedit with his foot. The dog didn't react.

"That dog is dead, dude," Sam groaned.

"Guess we oughta get it out of the road," Dean muttered. He grabbed fore-paws, Sam took the hinders.

Six kids burst out from the back yard of the house across the street. Three blonde girls, three dark haired boys. All yelling "Tiger! Tiger!" at the tops of their lungs.

Crisis-honed instinct kicked in. There was no need for words.

Sam and Dean dropped the dead dog onto the sidewalk and ran like hell back to the car.

They'd figure out where the the desert went later.

First priority was getting gone from 4222 Clinton Way.