I'm right here, idjits!
I tried in every possible way to make them understand: the beer, the book, the business card, the sword to kill that friggin' Japanese-splatter-movie-like ghost. But they still don't see me.
I almost succeeded in convincing Dean, until Sam screwed it up: wasn't he a lawyer? Why did he start talking like a fucking headshrinker?
They're suffering, they think they've lost me forever, while I'm here next to them. And I feel so friggin' powerless.
If only they could hear me scream: I'm right here, idjits!