Author's Note: Okay, I know that Dean/Jensen doesn't sing bad, but this is just a story, so please. Don't be offended and don't take this one seriously.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor do I own any of the characters whether or not I want to.

Sam and Dean Winchester, two Winchester brothers, were listening to Blue Oyster Cult and Metallica when an idea popped into each of their heads at the very same, exact time - making music and starting a band of their own. Only Dean was the first one to shout the idea of it out to the both of them.

"Hey, I think that we should start a band and make some music. You know, like Blue Oyster Cult or Metallica or AC/DC or something like that," Dean had said. "It would be fun. We can be famous."

"That was just on my mind," Sam said, blinking rapidly. What a coincidence. "But, if we're going to be having so much time on making music and such, then how in the world are we ever going to fit hunting in our schedules?"

"We ditch our jobs for a few years, and return to them after we have a huge success." He answered, impressed by his own ideas. "What do you think, huh, Sam?"

"Fine, but make it a year."

As the two continued on listening to some other songs from Dean's cassette tape collection, trying to look for tips as to how they would start at first. When they finally stopped by a nearby gas station, Sam walked out to look for some delicious, salty snacks while Dean filled up his car.

As he was walking and thinking about what musical instruments the two could get and use, Sam suddenly felt something beneath his foot that he hadn't seen earlier. Looking that, he found out that there was aluminum foil stuck to his feet. Maybe that could work.

Picking it up along with some other snacks, Sam came out with his hand full. He even added some spoons and cheese sticks and a random chinese wind gong that just stood there on his hands.

"What is all that stuff?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion as he was found already waiting in his seat. "And what took you so long to come out of that place? You must of been hungry!"

"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. Look, you'll find out sooner or later. Just stop by a nearby motel." Sam slid the instruments into the car and sat down in his seat.

"Fine,"

And so they drove off once again until they reached the nearest building they could possibly find to spend their nights in. Once the boys were settled in, which took them nearly half an hour to do so, Sam explained to Dean what he had found in the gas station while looking for some snacks.

"I just found some spoons and cheese sticks," Sam said. "Thinking that maybe we can use them to make some music as a nice start."

Dean raised his eyebrows, then slowly nodded, still in confusion. "And, explain that chinese wind gong thing that you brought alone with you," he demanded.

"And that?" He pointed over to the large instrument that stood before their eyes. "Another musical instrument that we can use."

"How did you find that in the gas station? You don't usually pick those things up over there, you know that."

"I know," Sam said. "But it was there. So, are we going to make music or not?"

"Fine, but we need a guitar."

"Use this for now,"

Pulling off the aluminum foil that was stuck to his hands, Sam handed it over to his older brother.

"Foil?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "Geeze, man. You have a weird way of thinking. I thought you were supposed to be smart, geek boy." He nudged Sam in the elbow. "Aren't I right?"

"Okay, fine." He snatched it off Dean's hands and put the aluminum carefully and safely in his sweatshirt's pockets. "I'll use it, then, if you're not even going to be bothering to do so. Anyways, where should we start?"

Dean took out a karoake machine and put a small cassette inside, waiting for it to turn on. "We can try to imitate all the sounds as much as we can. But, on this song, we're not going to use the foil." He glared at Sam's pockets as he turned it on.

With an awful voice, Dean started singing the words one by one. Annoyed, Sam pulled out the foil, even though he was told not to, and started rubbing it. Then, as the words rolled by, he started to rip it in half, rocking his head like a rock star, and made some unusual sounds with it.

Glaring and noticing, a still singing Dean, snatched it and stuffed the foil in his mouth. "If you're ever going to use it again on this song, one more time," he threatened. "I'm going to eat it. If you don't, I just might pull the foil out of my mouth and give it back to you."

Wincing, Sam stood back a step or two, and shook his head. "You can keep it if you want," he said. "I don't want any of your junk."

They continued making music when Sam started getting bored of hearing his older brother singing. So, remembering that the foil was still in his brother's mouth, he moved over to the chinese wind gong. His favorite instrument. Seeing that there was nothing to hit it with, Sam took a stick, making some sounds, causing the whole motel room to shake.

Dean narrowed his eyes again at his younger brother. "And that,"

Sam quickly backed off, throwing the sticks onto the ground, eyes wide. "Just don't hurt me,"

With Dean's violent glances and threatens, would Sam and Dean actually continue on with a successful band of their own? Or no?