— Did you really used to wear a skirt?
— A kilt. I had very athletic calves.
— But until we get you back on the soul train, I'll be your conscience. Okay?
— So you're saying you'll be my Jiminy Cricket.
— Shut up. But yeah, you freakin' puppet. That's exactly what I"m saying.
— I'm just saying we landed in some dimension where you're Jensen Ackles, and I'm something called a Jared Padalecki.
— So what, now you're Polish?!
— Dude, you have a camel in your backyard.
— It's an alpaca, dumbass.
His name is Misha!… Misha?! Misha? Jensen? …What's with names around here?
Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want!
You know, I’ve… I’ve been here for a very long time. I remember many things. I remember being at a shoreline, watching a little gray fish heave itself up on the beach and an older brother saying, «Don’t step on that fish, Castiel. Big plans for that fish.» I remember the Tower of Babel… all 37 feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell, they howled «Divine Wrath». But come on. Dried dung can only be stacked so high. I remember Cain and Abel… David and Goliath… Sodom and Gomorrah. And, of course, I remember the most remarkable event… Remarkable because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys… an old drunk… and a fallen Angel. The Grand Story. And we ripped up the ending and the rules… and Destiny… leaving nothing but freedom and choice. Which is all well and good, except… Well, what if I’ve made the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know? I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you my story. Let me tell you everything.