September 26th excerpt:

Sam rolled his eyes. “I guess we can count it as a tie,” he said dryly. “I’ll let your awful aim slide just this once. But you might end up with Dean trying to teach you how to aim the next time he gets the chance. Since, y’know, you can’t hit the broadside of a barn and all that.”

The hunter out in the open shifted his position on the bench while Sam was talking. The boot closest to them scrapped along the floor, and this time when Dean’s hand came into view, he was clearly stretching to reach the wayward coin.

“Did one of you get into the whiskey before we got here?” came a curious tone. A finger caught the coin just at the edge, dragging it along the floor so he’d be able to reach it without having to get up.

January 31st excerpt:

Sam gave a grunt as he pushed at the very edge of the massive door to maximize the torque, inordinately glad that the hinge wasn’t rusted at all. Dean dragged the whiskey behind himself, just as glad that he had extra strength at his disposal.