Sam Winchester: What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low sodium freaks!


Sam Winchester: I don't understand, Dean. We burned the damn thing!
Dean Winchester: Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious.


Sam Winchester: Maybe toi can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin.
Dean Winchester: Not me.
Sam Winchester: No, no, no, no. Pickups are your thing, Dean.
Dean Winchester: It wasn't my butt she was checking out.


Ann: [re: the painting] I can't believe we actually bought this thing.
Mark: There's a reason charity auctions have an open bar.


Sam Winchester: Why are toi trying so hard to get me laid?
Dean Winchester: Why are toi trying so hard to *not* get laid?


Dean Winchester: Ugly, cul, ass thing... If toi ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.


Sam Winchester: Oh My God!
Sarah Blake: What?
Sam Winchester: Uh... that painting... looks so good.
Sarah Blake: If toi can call that monstrosity good, then, yeah... I guess.
Sam Winchester: So, what do toi know about that painting?
Sarah Blake: Not much, just that it creeps me out. We sold it to the Telescas at a charity auction the night they were murdered.
Sam Winchester: And you're just gonna sell it again?
Sarah Blake: As much as my dad wants to, no. I won't let him. I think it'd be in bad taste.
Sam Winchester: Good. Yeah, toi know what? Don't, don't, make sure toi don't, okay?
Sarah Blake: Why? Don't tell me you're interested in that.
Sam Winchester: No, no, God, no, not in buying it, no. toi know what? I gotta go, I've gotta take care of something. But I will call toi back. I will call you. I'll see toi later.