[Dean and that glass, man. He doesn't even pause before he's knocking that back like it's water. But he's making stupid faces at his brother, anyway, because they're trapped in a tin can in space and this is so stupidly absurd he'd rather be drowning in a vat of whiskey right now.
Anyway. Something has to stay the same or he's gonna explode and Dean's bringing his jerkface A-game to the table.]
What? [His face is the picture of innocence but he ruins it with a smirk.] That's like Alien 101, man. Little green men, butt probes, and like...chips in your--
[His fingers search around his head and go still as his eyes go wide enough for a full-service tea party.]
Sammy. What the crap is in my head? [He goes quiet and then his expression hits table flipping apocalypse.]
Dean Winchester, perpetual 15-year-old
Anyway. Something has to stay the same or he's gonna explode and Dean's bringing his jerkface A-game to the table.]
What? [His face is the picture of innocence but he ruins it with a smirk.] That's like Alien 101, man. Little green men, butt probes, and like...chips in your--
[His fingers search around his head and go still as his eyes go wide enough for a full-service tea party.]
Sammy. What the crap is in my head? [He goes quiet and then his expression hits table flipping apocalypse.]
Son of a bitch, did they mind probe me?!