|Sam: So much for a low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Feds' database.
Dean: Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something.
Sam: Dean, it's not funny. Makes the job harder. We've got to be more careful now.
Dean: Well, what have they got on you?
Sam: I'm sure they just...haven't posted it yet.
Dean: Wait - no accessory, nothing?
Sam: Shut up.
Dean: (laughs) You're jealous.
Sam: No, I'm not!
Dean: Uh-huh. All right, what have you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?
|Sam: Whatever they are, they're big, nasty...
Dean: Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap out of your leg. Look at that one, huh? (chuckles]) What? They could!
Dean: The secretary's name is Carly. She's 23, she kayaks, and they're real.
Sam: You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?
Dean: Every complaint called in this week about everything big, black or dog-like. There's 19 calls in all. And I don't know what this thing is.
Sam: You mean Carly's MySpace address?
Dean: Yeah, MySpace. What the hell is that? (Sam laughs]) Seriously, is that, like, some sort of porn site?
|Dean: This house probably isn't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?
Sam: Yeah, so whatever kind of deal he made...
Dean: ... it wasn't for cash. Aw, who knows? Maybe his place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis.
|Dean: So you know who I am.
Demon: I get the newsletter.
|Dean: Shut your mouth, *****.|
|Demon: You're lucky I have a soft spot for lost puppies and long faces.|
|(demon tries to convince Dean to sell his soul)
Dean: You think you could... throw in a set of steak knives?
|(demon kisses Dean)
Dean: What the hell was that for?
Demon: Sealing the deal.
Dean: You know, I usually like to be warned before I'm violated with demon tongue.
|Dean: Why did he do it?
Sam: He did it for you.
Dean: Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that?
|Sam: Hey Dean, when you were trapping that demon, you weren't... I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never actually considered making that deal, right?
Dean: (doesn't answer)
|Dean: We know a little about a lot of things; just enough to make us dangerous.|
|Sam: We're here to help.
Husband: How do I know that?
Dean: Well, you don't know that do you? But you're running low on options there buddy boy.
Back to Season 2 episodes