"I am an angel of the Lord," said Castiel. For a moment, the shadow of his wings was visible. "I am a representative of what is left of Heaven. I have led armies of the righteous against the forces of evil. I am not wearing a sweater depicting Santa Claus and Jesus in a Volkswagen minibus!"
"I thought it was funny!" Dean insisted. "Like one of those colorful Southern exclamations: 'Santa and Jesus in a VW!'"
"It borders on blasphemy."
"All right, all right! You don't have to wear the damn sweater! I just thought it would be funny!"
"Funny," Cas said flatly.
"Remember how we all wore Christmas sweaters last year?" Sam jumped in. "We thought it might be fun to do that again. But we don't have to."
"Are we having another party?" Cas looked around at the bunker, empty except for the three of them.
"Not . . . exactly," said Dean. "We put the word out that anyone who was available and wanted to come by for a few hours was more than welcome. It might be a party. It might end up being just us. Wear what you want. I'm gonna wear my Christmas sweater."
"The one from last year," asked Sam, "or the new one?"
"New one?" Cas was intrigued. It couldn't be worse than Santa and Jesus in a VW, could it?
From Dean's guilty expression, it was. "You know what? I think I'll just wear the squirrel one from last year. That was cute, right?"
"What does the new one look like, Dean?" The angel's voice was as rough as gravel and as sharp as a sword.
"It's got Santa . . . well, in a bit of a compromising position-"
"He's naked, isn't he?"
"Sort of. I mean . . . partially naked."
Cas and Sam both gave him a pointed stare.
"He's peeing on a Christmas tree, all right? It's like a parody of that Calvin and Hobbes fan art that was everywhere about twenty years ago. I thought it was funny."
"Definitely go with the squirrel," said Sam.