[Dean, however, is unfazed - even a little relieved - by the laughter. Not that he doesn't recognize some of the similarities in how the Marquis is smiling at him now, not when he's stared down a pissed off crossroads demon offering him his daddy's soul in exchange for his own, not when he's tied evil to a chair and poked it with the verbal version of hot iron until it literally spilled its guts straight back to Hell, seen it wearing the skin of people he loves. But it's the rest that reassures him, and he rolls his eyes before glancing around them again, still on high alert.]
Yeah well, someday it'll be a demon, and you'll thank me then. Let's hear it. What's the sales pitch.
[ Spam ]
Yeah well, someday it'll be a demon, and you'll thank me then. Let's hear it. What's the sales pitch.