"Do you think the president knows how to banish demons?"

Sam paused, his beer bottle mere centimeters from his lips. He gave his brother a sideway glance and said, "Uh?"

"The president," Dean said curiously as he leaned against the Impala. "Think about it. If you were a demon, wouldn't the first person you possess be the president? I mean, all that power and money and the secret service. No way in hell a hunter would get close enough to exorcise him."


"Assuming the president isn't possessed, that would mean he would know about the supernatural. He has to. Or at least someone in the secret service does. Heh, could you imagine the president putting down salt lines in the Oval Office?"

"Dean, are you drunk?"

Dean lifted his own bottle, sloshed the liquid inside. "Getting there."


A/N: Once again, fic came about from a random thought. But it's an interesting question to ask. Hmmmm… R/R, please!