Dean Winchester: What are you, stoned?
Castiel: Generally, yeah.
Dean Winchester: Amphetamines?
Castiel: It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe.
Dean Winchester: [Future Dean] Okay. If you're me... then tell me something only I would know.
Dean Winchester: Rhonda Hurley. We were, uh... 19. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it.
Dean Winchester: [Future Dean] Touché.
Sam Winchester: Thank you. Really. Thank you. I won't let you down.
Dean Winchester: Oh, I know it. I mean, you are the second-best hunter on the planet.
[as they prepare to storm Lucifer's hideout]
Dean Winchester: Hey, uh, me. Can I talk to you for a second?
[the two Deans move away, the others check their weapons]
Dean Winchester: Tell me what's goin' on.
Future Dean: What?
Dean Winchester: I know you. You're lying to these people, and to me.
Future Dean: Is that so?
Dean Winchester: Yeah. See, I know your lying expressions. I've seen 'em in the mirror. Now there's something you're not telling us.
Future Dean: I don't know what you're talking about.
Dean Winchester: Oh really. Well, I don't seem to be the only member of your posse with some questions, so uh, maybe I'll just take my doubts over to them.
[he starts to walk away]
Future Dean: [stopping him] Okay wo-wo-wo-woah wait.
Dean Winchester: What?
Future Dean: Take a look around you, man. This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?
Dean Winchester: [realizing] They cleared a path for us. Which means that this is...
Future Dean: ...a trap. Exactly.
Dean Winchester: Well then we can't go through the front...
Future Dean: Oh we're not.
[glancing at the others]
Future Dean: They are. They're the decoys. You and me, we're goin' in through the back.
Dean Winchester: [horrified] You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas too? You want to use their *deaths* as a diversion?
[the other Dean looks away]
Dean Winchester: Oh man, something is broken in you. You're making decisions I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends!
Future Dean: You're right. *You* wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually.
Dean Winchester: These people count on you, they trust you!
Future Dean: They trust me to kill the Devil, and to save the world. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do!
Dean Winchester: No. Not like this you're not, I'm not gonna let you!
Future Dean: Oh really.
Dean Winchester: Yeah!
[Future Dean punches him in the face, knocking him out]
Dean Winchester: Oh well, if it isn't the ghost of Christmas Screw You.
Zachariah: Enough. Dean, enough. You saw it, right? You saw what happens. You're the only person who can prove the Devil wrong. Just say yes.
Dean Winchester: And how do I know that this whole thing isn't one of your tricks? Huh? Some angel hocus-pocus?
Zachariah: The time for tricks is over. Give yourself to Michael. Say yes, and we can strike. Before Lucifer gets to Sam. Before billions die.
[long pause, Dean walks around the angel]
Dean Winchester: [with his back turned] Nah.
Zachariah: "Nah"? You telling me you haven't learned you lesson?
Dean Winchester: [angrily] Oh I learned a lesson all right. Just not the one you wanted to teach!
Zachariah: [furious, advancing on Dean] Well, I'll just have to teach it *again*! 'Cause I've got you now, boy, and I'm never letting you -
[Zachariah is suddenly staring in shock at the empty air where Dean used to be]
[Dean finds himself on a deserted road, turns to see Castiel regarding him calmly]
Dean Winchester: That's pretty nice timing, Cas.
Castiel: [smiling slightly] We had an appointment.
[Dean smiles, lays a hand on Cas' shoulder]
Dean Winchester: Don't ever change.
Dean Winchester: [on cell phone] Talking about the Colt, right? As in, *the* Colt?
Castiel: We are.
Dean Winchester: Well that doesn't make any sense, I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that - kills demons?
Castiel: [shouting over a passing truck] What? What, Dean - I didn't, I didn't get that.
Dean Winchester: [laughing] Y'know it's kinda funny, talking to a messenger of God on a cell phone. It's, you know, like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped.
Castiel: [irritated] This isn't funny, Dean! The voice says I'm almost out of minutes!
Dean Winchester: Okay, all right. Look, I, I'm tellin' you Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now.
Castiel: Well, I hear differently. And if it's true, and if you are still set on the *insane* task of killing the Devil, this is how we do it.
Dean Winchester: Okay, where do we start?
Castiel: Where are you now?
Dean Winchester: Uh, Kansas City...
[looks at his room key]
Dean Winchester: Century Hotel, room 113.
Castiel: I'll be there immediately.
[starts to hang up, Dean stops him]
Dean Winchester: Whoa whoa whoa, no, no, come on man, I just drove like sixteen hours straight, okay? I'm *human*. There's stuff I gotta do.
Castiel: What stuff?
Dean Winchester: Eat, for example; in this case sleep, I just need like four hours every once in a while, okay?
Dean Winchester: Okay, so you can pop in tomorrow morning.
[Dean hangs up]
Castiel: I'll just...
[hears the dial tone, hangs up, a little exasperated]
Castiel: ... wait here, then.
Lucifer: [after killing future Dean, turns around and sees past Dean] Oh. Hello Dean. Aren't you a surprise.
[lightning flashes, Lucifer pops up behind him]
Lucifer: You've come a long way to see this, haven't you?
Dean Winchester: Well go ahead. Kill me.
Lucifer: Kill you?
[glances around Dean at the body of future Dean]
Lucifer: Don't you think that would be a little... redundant?
Lucifer: I'm sorry. It must be painful. Speaking to me in this - shape. But it had to be your brother. It had to be.
[he reaches for Dean's shoulder, Dean pulls away, Lucifer's arm drops]
Lucifer: You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?
[walks past Dean, fingers a rose]
Dean Winchester: [angrily] I don't know, maybe deep-fry the planet?
Lucifer: [turning back] Why? Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing? *Beautiful* in a trillion different ways! The last, *perfect* handiwork of God?
Lucifer: You ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?
Dean Winchester: Oh good God, you're not gonna tell me a bedtime story are you? My stomach's almost outta bile.
Lucifer: You know why God cast me down? Because I *loved* him. More than anything. And then God created...
[huffs a small laugh]
Lucifer: You. The little, hairless apes. And then he asked all of us to bow down before *you*. To love *you*, more than Him! And I said, Father, I can't. I said these human beings, were flawed, murderous. And for that, God had Michael cast me into Hell! Now tell me, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was right. Look what six billion of you have done to this thing. And how many of you blame me for it.
Dean Winchester: You're not fooling me, you know that? With this sympathy for the Devil crap? I know what you are.
Lucifer: What am I?
Dean Winchester: You're the same thing only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I been squashing my whole life. An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you? Is the size of your ego.
[pause, Lucifer smiles]
Lucifer: I like you, Dean. I get what the other angels see in you. Good-bye. We'll meet again soon.
[starts walking away]
Dean Winchester: [fiercely] You better kill me now!
Lucifer: [stops, turns back] Pardon?
Dean Winchester: You better kill me now! Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you! And I won't stop!
Lucifer: [quietly] I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael either. And I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up... here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, *we* will always end up... here.
[a tear drops from Dean's eye]
Lucifer: I win. So I win.
Dean Winchester: You're wrong.
Lucifer: See you in five years, Dean.
[he vanishes with a clap of thunder]
Chuck Shurley: So, you're really from '09?
Dean Winchester: Yeah, afraid so.
Chuck Shurley: Some free advice. You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand me? Hoard it. Hoard it like it's made of gold. Because it is.
Dean Winchester: Thanks, Chuck.
Chuck Shurley: Oh, you'll thank me, all right. Mark my words.