Chemical lobotomises? Really? This place sure knows how to party. I like their sense of humour, even if its not appreciated right now.
[He doesn't fancy the idea himself but any traumatic situation is usually where emotions are highest and that's just perfect for him. Plus a bunch of lobotomised people? He had to make use of that before his own
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I'll give you a clue. Theologists and philosophers debate on it. Some believe its your gate way to heaven, others think its a big white ghosty thing that lives inside you and some say its a categorical mistake. Oh and dogs apparently don't have them!
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Seriously? What are you then? The bloody Devil?
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They call me the king of the crossroads. And really Sam, do you need a soul? That silly little thing that won't even help you here?
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There's nothing after this. You know that right? Nothing after this at all.
[And he needs that gun. So why not?]
Fine. For a gun? You can 'ave my bloody soul.
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[And like that, Crowley is standing behind you Sammy, grinning with amusement as he leans over to whisper in your ear.]
-With a kiss.
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Excuse-- No, let's not play Judas 'ere.
An' not so loud.
[Gene's right outside on the sofa scowling at the TV]
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[He doesn't exactly look heart broken over that part either.]
Just on little snog and you have a gun. Seems like a small price to pay. I'm sure your boyfriend won't mind.
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I want to see the gun first.
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[And who doesn't want to snog Crowley?]
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