You only have 24 hours.
What? Why?
Well, the answer to your question can best be expressed as a series of partial differential equations...
Yeah, aim lower.
All S1
S1 E15Unfinished Business
Look, just because you're obsessed with all that Wild West stuff...
No I'm not.
You have a fetish, Dean.
Shut up. I like old movies.
You can recite every Clint Eastwood movie ever made, line-for-line.
Even the monkey movies?
Yeah. Especially the monkey movies.
His name is Clyde.
You goin' to a hoedown?
Now is it, is it customary to wear a blanket?
It's a serape. And yes, it's a... never mind, let's just go.
I'm powerless.
You're joking.
Something in this town is, uh... it's affecting me. I assume it's Eve.
So, wait. Mom's making you limp?
Figuratively, yes.
How?
I don't know, but she is.
Oh, well, that's great, 'cause without your power, you're basically just a baby in a trench coat. (Castiel looks away)
I think you hurt his feelings.
The question is why? What does she want with a... what do you call these?
Well, congrats, you discovered it, you get to name it.
"Jefferson Starships." Huh? Because they're horrible, and hard to kill.
It looks like the whole bar has been turned into these-
Jefferson Starships.
Fine. But why are all... the Starships dead?
They won't take long.
You don't know that. They may find more wayward orphans along the way.
Oh, don't get cute.
Right. Pardon me for highlighting their crippling and dangerous empathetic response with "sarcasm." It's a bad idea letting them go.
Come on. You don't let Sam and Dean Winchester do squat. They do what they gotta, you know that.
There's one way to draw her out. Me and Sam will go in.
Dean!
Look, if we don't get a shot off you two better.
That's the plan?
Yeah. Pretty much.
Well, at least it ain't complicated.
EEve
Relax. I'm not here to fight.
No. Just to rally every freak on the planet. Bring in Khan worms and--and half-assed Spidermen. And dragons. Really, sister? Dragons?
EEve
So I dusted off some of the old classics. I needed help.
I remember being at a shoreline, watching a little grey 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 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.
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.
God wants you to have freedom.
RRachel
But what does he want us to do with it?
[narrating] If I knew then what I know now, I might have said; 'It's simple. Freedom is a length of rope, God wants you to hang yourself with it.' Those first weeks back in Heaven were surprisingly difficult. Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like teaching poetry to fish.
If you touch the Winchesters...
Please. I heard you the first time. I promise -- nary a hair on their artfully tousled heads. Besides, I think they've proven my point for me. It's always your friends, isn't it, in the end? We try to change. We try to improve ourselves. It's always our friends who got to claw into our sides and-and hold us back. But you know what I see here? The new God [pointing at Castiel] and the new Devil, working together.
Enough! You stop talking and get out of my sight.
Well... Glad I came. You're welcome, by the way. You know the difference between you and me? I know what I am. What are you, Castiel? What exactly are you willing to do?
You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will...
You're a freaking child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want, doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want.
Our pal, Cas, didn't stop in last night just to mend fences.
What did he do?
Stole something.
What?
The journal of one Moishe Campbell.
Moishe?
Of the New York Campbells.
Wha- uh... So we gotta get it back. Right?
Or just read the copy I already made. Hi, glad to meet you. Bobby Singer: paranoid bastard.
Alright so who's this Phillips guy?
Phillips ain't his last name. It's Lovecraft.
H.P. Lovecraft? Let me see that.
Am I supposed to know who that is?
Horror writer? "At the Mountains of Madness"? "The Call of Cthulu"?
Yeah, no I- I was too busy having sex with women.
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