What a thing it is to stand trial before a false god, the Colt undeniably passed from you to the Winchesters, with Lucifer playing judge to pass the time rather than to convict.
"I can't deny your work ethic, child," he says, like you are his creation and not your own, "crossroads king," with more contempt, "but you could learn a thing or two from your hound."
Growley sits quiet at his feet, Lucifer's hand in his fur, like a good dog should, but you and your hound both know how well deference can mask deceit.
