A fifth car zooms past, its driver yelling obscenities.
"Well, screw you, too!" Dean bellows, slamming his hand on the horn. "And screw your stupid frigging electric hippy car! Dude, what's their problem?"
Sam shrugs and continues to survey the map, calmly sipping his Starbucks crap. Dean glowers at the smug green bitch logo. Figures it'd be a siren.
"It's not me."
"You were right, Dean." They turn. Castiel gravely scrutinizes his hands. "It is intriguing. Humans have peculiar reactions to my finger – perhaps it strikes the fear of God into them."
Sam spews coffee all over the dash. Asshole.
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