5.

"Man, those boys are raising the bar for fucked up white folks everywhere."

Rick glanced over at T-Dog before looking back at the interesting foursome they'd encountered earlier that day. "I can't really disagree with you."

Dean and Sam were brothers, both large young man (especially Sam), both very businesslike in their approach to eliminating Walkers… and they had a suspiciously awesome armory in the trunk of their car.

Bobby, an older man who seemed to play some paternal role for his group (though he lacked the occasional condescension some elders were fond of dishing out), also had a mobile arsenal. Like the brothers, he looked like he was used to living a hard life and something about him screamed competence.

Then there was Castiel, who looked like a rumpled accountants, talked to God as though expecting an answer, bemoaned the need to eat and hovered just a little too close to Dean.

The particular best of fuckedupness that T-Dog was referring to was the site of Castiel contemplating a can of beans as though it held the meaning of life. Dean took the can and opened it, will Sam snickered, "Balthazar had your numbers, all right."

"Pie hole shut," Dean muttered as Castiel asked, "What did my brother say?"

"Can we not discuss obnoxious archangels in front of the newbies?" Bobby grumbled as Sam gave Dean a look that could only be described as a bitch-face.

"See, fucked up white folk."

Rick nodded. Yeah they were nuts, but so was the world they were living in.