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"Dean, this is not your regular run-of-the-mill vamp nest! They bring the witches ingredients for their spells, and in exchange, the witches provide them with protection."
He ignores you and continues laying out weapons on the hotel bed.
"Dean, I'm serious! Going in half-cocked is going to get us all killed."
He smirks at you. "First of all, I don't do anything half-cocked." He waggles his eyebrows playfully. "Secondly," he continues, picking up two guns off the bed and crossing his arms over his chest. "Those witches can say hello to my little friends."
You laugh out loud at his terrible Scarface impersonation. "I don't think Al Pacino is gonna be any help to us, pal."
He frowns. "We could always use-"
"No grenade launcher!" You and Sam yell at the same time.
"Screw you guys. You never let me have any fun."
"Tell you what, buddy. Tonight, you can charge in first." You offer and his eyes light up.
"Really?"
"Definitely. Just don't die, okay? And no more grenade launcher talk?"
Dean resumes his crossed-arm stance, pointing his guns upward. "I'm Dean Winchester! They fuck with me, they're fuckin' with the best!"
