"You asked for it, dickweed!"

Dean stormed out of the dungeon. When he came back, what he carried made Crowley's eyes bulge.

"You're kidding! Even you wouldn't do something like that!"

"Wanna bet?" Dean advanced on the helpless demon and the air was filled with the sounds of wild laughter, profanity and ripped clothing.

At last, breathing hard, Dean stepped back. "Well, don't you just look precious?" he said in a psychotically bright and cheery voice.

Crowley's shriek was that of six tomcats castrated in mid-coitus.

"THE KING OF HELL DOES NOT DO - FLANNEL!"