Oh, for Christ's sake!
You gotta do this to me?
Look, I know you're going through a hard time right now. Fine. Daddy's dead, the Colt's gone, and it's all your fault, but that doesn't mean you have to hurt me! I'll take every damn hit, but seriously, grow up already. You're alive. There's not a cloud in the sky- it's a nice day. Don't you have better things to do than clock a few hits into a faithful friend?
Huh. The fact that you won't stop with the hits already tells me no.
You need help. Yoga, maybe? Breathe, Dean. Breathe. And while you're at it, stop beating the crap out of me.
I never did anything to you, did I-
Oh, God, don't you love me anymore? You used to.
Sweet mother of all things HOLY, WOULD YOU STOP?!?!
I remember how you used to take care of me...now you're tearing me to pieces...
Oh, thank you for dropping that damn crowbar...well, all you did is tear a friggin' hole in my trunk. I was going to let you drive, since Sammy wrecked me, but you know what? Just for that, I think I'll just sit here in this damn junkyard and rust. I may as well- John seems to be the only one who really cared, and now he's dead-
Should have known the second he handed you the keys that your love was just lust...that you just thought I was a hot rod. Well, you were right- but this hot rod is abandoning your ass as effectively as a hot rod can! Got it? No more Metallica marathons! I never want to hear the Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, or AC/DC again! You never even asked what music I liked. Well, I don't like your crap, Dean Winchester! You can take your stupid CD's, your crowbar, and your damn brother-
Wait a second- is that paint? Are you going give me a fresh coat of paint?!
Dean! Buddy! My dearest friend! All's forgiven- I understand completely, sweetie...really, I'll even let you drive with that stupid AC/DC music, you won't even hear a peep out of me!
If you did before...
Eh, just lay that paint on, baby!