date: 3/01 20:25
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Dean: I'm just saying these outfits cost hard-earned money.
Sam: Whose?
Dean: Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?
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Dean: I talked to the bartender.
Sam: Did you get anything...besides her number?
Dean: Dude, I'm a professional. I'm offended that you would think that (smiles and chuckles as he displays a napkin with her phone number)...All righty!
Sam: You mind doing a little thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?
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Dean: So to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's number.
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Sam: I think there's something weird going on here.
Dean: Yeah, she wasn't even into me!
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Sam: Go to Hell!
Meg: Baby, I'm already there.
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Dean: Hey, Sam…?
Sam: Hmmm?
Dean: Next time you want to get laid…find a girl that's not so buckets of crazy.
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Dean: Why don't you go up and deliver a private strip-o-gram?
Sam: Bite me.
Dean: Oh no, Bite her. Just don't leave any teeth marks... (Sam hangs up) Sam?
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