Curse or not, hungry werewolf meant biting. And biting fucking hurt.
"You're gonna restrain the Wolfman with corn?" Dean asked, voice turning into a half-drawl, half-growl. The tone was the one he used on Sam when Sam did things like eat salad, or drink demon blood.
He pressed his lips together and shook his head, going through the hole in the maze that the kid just made.
That was a mistake.
From what Dean could tell, most of the corn maze actors had been dressed as zombies. The maze next to him was packed with them, and behind them, a chainsaw could be heard. He knew it was too much to hope for some kind of Grindhouse chick to be back there, or Ash. The heroes were never part of the scare. It was probably Leatherface.
Dean backed up as quickly as he could.
"We need to go. Now," he said to the kid. "Forget the corn. I hope you were good at Left 4 Dead."