"Agents Page, Lee and Plant, FBI." I introduced to the doctor as the boys and I show him our badges. "Gentlemen and lady. What brings you by?" the doctor asked us. "We need to see Amber Freer's body." Sam said. "Really? What for?" the doctor asked us. "The police report said something clawed through her skull?" Dean said, questioning. "You didn't read the autopsy report that I emailed out this morning?" The Doctor asked us, catching us off guard.

"W-we had, uh, server issues." I said and the doctor walks away, we follow him. 

The doctor opens one of the freezers and pulls out the slab with Amber's body. He tosses back the sheet from her head. "When they brought her in, we thought she was attacked by a wolf or something." He explain. "Or something." I said, raising an eyebrow. "But we were wrong." the doctors said and he picks up a plastic bag from the slab and shows it to us.

"Is that a—" Sam said and the Doctor nods. "It's a press-on nail. We found it in her temporal lobe." he said. "Is that even possible?" I asked him. "Wait, are you—you saying that she did this to herself?" Dean asked the Doctor. "Uh-huh. She scratched her brains out. It'd take hours, and it'd hurt like hell, but sure—it's possible." The Doctor said.

"How?" Dean asked. "Pick your acronym—OCD, PCP. It all spells crazy." the doctor said as Sam pulls back the sheet a little further. Amber's right hand has four press-on nails still attached; the middle finger has nothing. "My guess, some kind of phantom itch. I mean, an extreme case, but..." The Doctor said. "Phantom itch?" Sam asked. "Yup." the Doctor said and he covers Amber's head and slides the slab back into the freezer, closing the door.

"All it takes is someone talking about an itch—or thinking about one, even—and suddenly you can't stop scratching." he said and I nod. "Thanks, doc." I said as Sam scratches under his collar, Dean scratches his ear and I scratch the back of my head.

Later, we were in Jimmy's house and Sam was sitting in the armchair in the living room, holding a notebook and pen, and Jimmy's father and Francine are sitting on the sofa. Dean and I wander around behind them. "Okay. Okay, now, some of these questions might seem a bit odd, but please just bear with me. Have you noticed any cold spots in the house?" Sam asked them. "Uh...no." Jimmy's dad said, a look of confusion on his face.

"Okay, uh, what about strange smells?" Sam asked as Dena and I look around the corner to see Jimmy. "Whatcha lookin' for?" he asked us. "Don't know yet." Dean said as I walk up to Jimmy. "It's, uh, Jimmy, right?" I asked and he nods.

"So, Amber was your babysitter?" I asked him. "Yes, ma'am." He said. "Yeah, most of my babysitters sucked. Especially Ms. Chancey. She only cared about two things. Dynasty and bedtime." Dean said before he chuckles and I roll my eyes.

"Did you, uh, you see anything strange that night?" I asked Jimmy. "No, ma'am." Jimmy said. "You sure about that?" Dean asked. "I—I would tell you if I knew something." he said and Dean and I look at the kid. "I promise. One hundred percent. Cross my heart." Jimmy said and Dean looks back over his shoulder, then back at Jimmy.

"Well, Jimmy, I, uh...I happen to know you're lying." Dean said to him and Jimmy looks a bit terrified. "I'm not." Jimmy said and Dean leans down and puts a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "We gonna start talking truth, or are you and me gonna have to take a little trip downtown?" Dean asked him and Jimmy gives us, wide eyes.

Later, the boys and I were leaving when Dean holds up a packet of itching powder. "Kid said he put this on the babysitter's hairbrush." Dean said to Sam. "Dean, there's no way itching powder made that girl scratch her brains out. It's just ground-up maple seeds." Sam said. "If you have any other theories, we're open to 'em." I said as a cell phone rings.

Sam pulls his out and answers it while Dean opens the back driver side door of the Impala for me. "Aw, such a gentleman." I said to him as I climb in and Dean smiles then shuts the door and gets into the driver's seat. "Yeah? ...Yeah, we'll be right there." Sam said as he goes around the car.

Back at the hospital, a nurse zips up a body bag and he and another nurse roll it out of the room while the Doctor watches from the corridor as we come up behind him. "What happened?" Sam asked him. "Guy got electrocuted." the doctor replied as he turns to us.

"Any idea how?" Dean asked. "Eh, maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out. So far, we haven't found anything." the doctor said. "Witnesses?" I asked. "Yeah, guy in there—Mr. Stanley." the doctor said as he points to an old man sitting in a chair in the room, looking out the window. "He says he saw it, but he's not making a lick of sense. Senile." the doctor said said. "Thanks." Sam said and we enter the room as the doctor leaves.

"Um, Mr. Stanley?" Sam asked as we walk up to the old man. "It was just a joke. I didn't know it would really work." Stanley said, upset. "What would work?" Dean asked him and Stanley looks at Dean. "All I did was shake his hand." he said and he holds out his hand, showing us that he is holding a joy buzzer. 

At the motel, Dean puts on a pair of goggles and a pair of gloves, then adjusts the goggles and picks up the joy buzzer. He looks at the joy buzzer for a moment, then turns to me and Sam. "You ready?" Dean asked us. "Hit it, Mr. Wizard." I said as Sam and I hold another pair of goggles to our eyes.

There is a large uncooked ham in two stacked aluminum-foil pans sitting on the table in front of Dean. Dean holds the joy buzzer over the ham, hesitates, and presses it to the ham. Electricity crackles and steam rises from the ham as it changes color.

When the ham is blackened, Dean removes the joy buzzer and the ham sizzles. Sam and I lower the goggles and gawk as Dean flips up the dark-plastic visor on the goggles. "That'll do, pig." he mutters. "What the hell?" Sam said, shocked.

Dean takes off the goggles, still staring at the now-cooked ham. "That crap isn't supposed to work." I said. "This thing doesn't even have batteries." Dean said as he takes off one glove and removes the other.

"So...so, what? Are—are we looking at cursed objects?" I asked. "Sounds good." Dean said as he pulls out a knife, flips it open, and cuts a piece off the ham. "Maybe there's a powerful witch in town." he said and he eats the piece of ham. "Is there any link between the, uh, the joy buzzer and the itching powder?" he asked us as I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store." Sam said as Dean cuts off another piece of ham. "Hmm." Dean hums then he holds up the piece of ham. Sam and I shake our heads and Dean proceeds to eat the ham.

We enter a joke shop and the door chimes as we walk in. Someone laughs and the door chimes again as we walk around. "Guys!" Dean said as he picks up a whoopee cushion and holds it up, grinning. Sam sighs and shakes his head, turning away. "You are such a child." I said to Dean as he goes and brings the whoopee cushion up to the checkout counter, which has a display of rubber chickens next to it.

Then an older gentleman comes out of the back room. "Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery." he said as Sam and I come up to the counter. "You the owner?" Sam asked him. "Yep." the man said. "You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?" Dean asked him. "Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren't exactly big-ticket items. Look, you three here to buy something or what?" the owner asked us.

Dean pulls some cash out of his wallet, holds up the whoopee cushion, and hands the owner the cash. "So, you get many customers?" I asked him. "Kids come in. They don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break stuff. These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just—" the owner said then Dean finishes his sentence. "Angry?" he asked.

The Owner pauses, then nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now it's wasting away to nothing." he said. "Which is why you hate them." Dean said. "I suppose." The owner said, shrugging. "You wish there was something you could do about it." Dean said. "Yeah, I guess I do." the owner said.

"So you're taking revenge." Dean accuses as he pulls a rubber chicken off the display and slaps it down on the counter. "With this." he said and he holds up the joy buzzer and presses it to the rubber chicken, electricity crackles. The Owner yelps and leaps back. "Oh! No!" he screams as the rubber chicken melts.

The owner stares, making inarticulate noises, while the boys and I watch him. "Yeah, something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch." I said. "Sorry. Sorry." Dean said to him and we leave.

The next day, Sam and I leave the hospital room with this man who had his teeth pulled and head to the corridor where Dean was talking to a nurse, who was obviously checking him out.

She leaves as Sam and I approach Dean, who turns to us. "What's up with Toothless? Cavity creeps get ahold of him?" he asked us. "Yeah. Close. He wrote up a description." Sam said and he reads from his notebook. "Five foot ten, three hundred fifty pounds, wings, and a pink tutu. Said it was the tooth fairy." Sam said and Dean narrows his eyes in confusion.

"So he's obviously whacked out on painkillers." He said. "Maybe. Whatever it was got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm." I said,  shrugging. "Come on. Tooth fairy?" Dean said, disbelieving. "And it left thirty-two quarters underneath his pillow. One for each tooth." Sam said and Dean nods.

"Well, I will see your crazy and raise you some. There's a couple of kids upstairs with stomach ulcers—say they got it from mixing Pop Rocks and Coke. Another guy...his face...froze that way." Dean said. "What way?" I asked. Dean looks in all directions, then pulls out the sides of his mouth and crosses his eyes. He holds it for a moment and lets go.

"He, uh, held it too long, and it—it stuck. They're flying in a plastic surgeon." Dean said as he pokes at his cheeks and wiggles his chin. "So, I mean, if you add all that up..." Sam hesitates and Dean and I raise our eyebrows. "I got nothing." Sam said and he starts down the hallway past Dean, who turns around to walk alongside him, I follow.

"I thought sea-monkeys were real." Dean said. "They are. They're brine shrimp." I said. "No, no, no, I mean like in the ads. You know, like the sea-monkey wife cooks the pot roast for the sea-monkey husband, and the sea-monkey kids play with the dog in a sea-monkey castle—real. I mean, I was six, but I believed it." Dean said. "Okay." Sam said, unsure where Dean was going with this.

"Point is..." Dean said and he stops. Sam and I stop and turn to him. "Maybe that's the connection. The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they're all lies that kids believe." Dean said. "And now they're coming true. Okay, so whatever's doing this is—is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or—" Sam stops and I roll my eyes. "—of a trickster." I added and Sam nods.

"Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old." Dean said. "Or you." I add and Sam laughs and we walk off.

Later, Sam and I come into the motel room to see Dean sitting at the table, taking a bit out of a sandwich, obviously made from that ham he cooked. "Dude, seriously—still with the ham?" Sam asked as he holds up the map we found. "We don't have a fridge." Dean replied, through the mouthful of food he had. 

"Hey, don't talk with your mouth full." I scolded him as I shut the door and Sam puts the map down in front of Dean. "Well, we found something." Sam said and Dean stands up for a better view. Sam points to a red X on the map for every incident. "Um, tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you've got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer—all located within a two-mile radius." Sam explains as he indicates the area containing all the red X's.

"So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality." Dean said. "Looks like." I said, nodding. "And what's the A-bomb at its center?" Dean asked. "Four acres of farmland...and a house." I said and Dean looks between me and Sam.

A mail truck drives past the house and past the Impala, as we pull up and park. The boys and I, wearing suits, get out and cross the street, walking up to the house. Dean checks Ruby's knife, which is tucked into his belt. Sam bends down to pick the lock, but straightens up in a hurry when the door opens, revealing a young boy.

"Can I help you?" He asked us. "Hi. Uh, what's your name?" I asked him. "Who wants to know?" the boy asked, suspiciously, and Dean, Sam and I glance at each other.

"The, uh..." Dean said then he clears his throat and pulls out his badge, showing it to the boy while Sam and I go for our badges. "FBI." Dean said as we hold up our badges. "Let me see that." the boy said as he takes Dean's badge and examines then hands it back.

"So, what, you guys don't knock?" he asked us as Sam and I put our badges away. "Are your parents home?" I asked him. "They work." the boy replied. "Well, you mind if we ask you a few questions, maybe take a look around the house?" Sam asked. "I don't know." the boy said.

"Come on. You can trust us. We're the authorities." Dean said as he holds up his badge again but the boy looked unimpressed. He glances between us as we try to smile reassuringly.

The boy leads us into his house as he goes to the kitchen and turns off the stove, where there was a pot of food boiling. We follow him into the kitchen, looking around. "What's that?" Sam asked, nodding to the pot. "It's called soup." the boy replied as he takes the pot off the stove. "You heat it up and you eat it." he said, sounding like it was obvious, and Sam chuckles.

"Right. I, I know. It's just, um...I used to make my own dinner, too, when I was a kid." Sam said. "Well, I'm not a kid." the boy grumbles as Dean notices the artwork on the fridge.
"Right. No, I, I know. Um..." Sam stammers then he holds out a hand. "I'm Robert, by the way." he introduced and the boys shakes his hand and then I hold mine out. "And I'm Sheila." I said and he takes my hand. "Jesse." the kid said.

"Jesse, nice to meet you." I said as Dean steps closer, holding a picture of a bearded man with pink wings and tutu. "Did you draw this?" he asked and Jesse turns to him and nods. "It's the tooth fairy." he states.

"That's what you think the tooth fairy looks like, huh?" Dean asked. "Yeah. My dad told me about him." Jesse said and Dean glances at me and Sam. "Huh." Dean huffs. "What, didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?" Jesse asked him. "My dad?" Dean chuckles. "My dad told me different stories." he said. "Well, the tooth fairy isn't a story." Jesse said, firmly. 

"What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?" I asked him. "That stuff will make you scratch your brains out." Jesse said. "Pop Rocks and Coke?" Dean asked. "You mix them, and you'll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that." Jesse said then Dean pulls the joy buzzer out of his pocket and holds it up.

"You shouldn't have that." Jesse said. "Why not?" Dean asked. "It can electrocute you." Jesse said. "Actually, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries." Dean said. "So it can't shock you?" Jesse asked. "Nope. Not at all. I swear." Dean said. "Oh. Okay." Jesse said.

"I mean, all it does is just shake in your hand. It's kind of lame. See?" Dean said and he presses the joy buzzer to Sam's chest. It buzzes and Sam stiffens up and turns to Dean, looking murderous, while I hold back my laughter.

"What did you say your name was, again?" Dean asked Jesse.