Jesus, stranger, easy with the venom, would ya? For just a brief second, Dean looks caught off guard and perhaps even a little stricken. Evidently, the words hit a little too close to home. A beat later and he's covering that up with a blank mask of dark frustration, a cold and calculated square-jawed look of practical defiance.

Fuck this whole place and the tractor it rode in on.

Twenty minutes later, Dean shows up at Jamba Juice. He made a little pit stop by the package store because apparently he's shameless and his borderline alcoholism remains completely unshaken by accurate commentary.

On the bright side, it's rum so it'll mix well with any damn smoothie in this joint. He produces a second bottle from his pocket once he sees Blake, plunking it down on the counter and sliding it forth.

"Don't say I never thought about you, Pookie Bear."