~*****~

Once we got back to the motel, Dean left, doing god knows what, and leaving Sam and I alone. But that gave Sam and I plenty of time to come up with a prank for Dean. After we had rigged the bathroom sink to spray everywhere, Sam went to take his shower. I bit my lip as the door closed and reached into my jacket pocket, and pulled out the itching powder I had bought. I ripped open Dean's bag and started coating his underwear and clothes with it. I giggled to myself as I closed it back up. Sam's laptop was next. I skipped over to it and loaded it up, then firing the search engine. I quickly found what I had been looking for. "Small, Slutty Man takes four massive men." I recite, choking on laughter when I drug the volume bar all the way up, and skipped the foreplay section. I closed the laptop as the video started to play. Just as I snapped the laptop shut, the door opens.

"Hey! I'm back!" Dean called as he stepped in. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I remained uncaught. Dean sent me a smirk and tugged out a packet of itching powder, and I fought to stop the laughter bubbling up my throat.

"Hey! Where were you?" Sam called back while Dean coated his clothes with itching powder.

"Oh, I went out!" Dean replied vaguely.

"So, Lottie and I think we night have a theory about whats going on."

"Oh yeah?"

"What if Mordachai is a tulpa?"

"Tulpa?" Dean asked, looking over at me.

"A Tibetan thought form." I recite just as Sam steps out of the bathroom with a towel hanging around his waist. "Really, Sam? I'm in here ya know." He just gave me his stank face.

"Yeah, I know what a tulpa is. Hey, why don't you get dressed, I wanna go grab something to eat." Dean suggested as he entered the bathroom. I bit my lip as Sam and I exchanged excited looks. Just as Dean turns on the sink to wash his hands, water sprays out, coating his shirt and jeans. He flung open the door, his face dripping and his clothes sodden. "Lottie! You little brat!" He bellowed, coming after me as I shriek in laughter.

~*****~

We arrived at a local diner after Dean changed his clothes into the itching powder clothes. He squirmed around a little the entire time, and so did Sam. The boys went for coffee as I sat at the table, smirking victoriously. When they finally sauntered back, Dean slid a coffee over to me. I raised an eyebrow at him and tentatively took a sip. I fought to spit it out, considering salt and hot sauce had been poured into it. I looked over at Dean, seeing his disappointed expression. "Bush league, baby." I mention, setting the disgusting crap down.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asks Sam.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Sam replied with a grimace. He scratched his leg gently.

"How about you, Dean?" I question, batting my eyelashes at him.

"I'm fine," He snapped, shifting around a bit more. A look of realization washed over him and he sent me the nastiest glare I had ever seen. "Oh, you're dead meat." He was silent for a moment while I nearly peed myself with laughter. "So, ahh, alright. Keep going. What about these Tulpas?" Dean asked.

"Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard, they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air." I explained.

"So?"

"That was 20 monks, Dean. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do." Sam stated. He started to fish out his laptop and I had to stop myself from squealing in excitement. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordachai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard."

"Now, wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordachai, he's real?" Dean asked in a disbelieving tone. He then shot me a confused look as I stared intently at Sam, my lips quivering.

"I dunno, maybe." Sam replied before shifting again. He opened his laptop and I belted out laughing as the speakers nearly blew off.

"UHHHH!!! HARDER FIT YOUR FAT--"

Sam turned bright red as he slammed the laptop shut. The entire diner started muttering about how rude he was and even started staring at him. I, on the other hand, laughed so hard, I nearly fell out of my stool. Dean and I started slamming our fists on the table as we snorted in laughter, nearly asphyxiating ourselves. Sam tried to open it again, only to have the small man start screaming for bigger cocks in him. Sam slapped at a bunch of keys until it finally silenced. I've never seen his face so red. "LOTTIE!" He boomed.

"S-S-Sam!" I shouted, holding my stomach. "I didn't know! Honestly!" I leaned over onto Dean, crying from the laughter by now. "If you need some time-"

"Just ask!" Dean howled as I was unable to finish my sentence. Sam started furiously typing on his laptop and whirled it around to show the screen.

I HATE YOU

After Dean and I settled, Dean got us back on subject. "So, people believe in Santa Claus- how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?" Dean mentioned.

"Cause you and Lottie are bad people. And because of this." Sam replied casually, turning his laptop around once more. "That's a Tibetan Spirit Sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a Theology textbook. I bet, they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now, that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordachai... I mean, I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life." Sam continued.

"It would explain why he keeps changing." Dean offered.

Sam grimaced and adjusted himself again. "Right, as the legend changes, people think different things. So, Mordachai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit." Dean summarized.

Sam kept fidgeting. "Yeah."

"Okay, so, why don't we just... uh... get this spirit sigil off the wall and off the website." Dean asked.

"Well, it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created, they take on a life of their own." I explain.

"Great, so if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Sam shifted again. "Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage." Sam twisted the laptop again, showing us the footage from last night. "Since they posted the video, their number of hits quadrupled in the last day alone."

"I said it once, and I'll say it again. Men are pigs." Dean gave me an offended look when I pointed to some of the comments. "I'd love to shove my-" Dean stopped me, snapping the laptop shut.

"I got an idea." Dean told us, getting up with a sour look on his face. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, trying to put his laptop away.

"We gotta find a copy store."

"Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something." Sam mention, getting up and itching a bit. Dean threw his head back and started laughing. "You did this?!" He asked incredulously. Dean just continued to laugh and stride towards the door. "You're a friggin' jerk!"

Sam stepped out of the diner, and unfortunately got coated in paint that was most likely meant for me. Dean had a look of shock on his face as Sam wiped the paint dripping from his face and gave him a hard glare. I peered out from the diner door and smirked. "I told you I was the Queen this round." I mention, stepping around the paint riddled Sam and pulled the Impala keys out of my pocket before circling around to the drivers side. "Let's hope Sam has some clothes in the Impala, Dean. Otherwise, it's white paint on the leather." They both just gave me a look of total loathing. "Let's get a move on, Itchy and Scratchy." I grinned victoriously as I slid into the drivers seat and popped in a Queen cassette, 'We Are The Champions' blaring from the radio almost immediately.