Sandra assures Deadly Action Sammy that Ruby'll get hers in the end, but Sam's there to make Sandra an offer, not gossip about the sparkly haired demon. "You can let [my stupid little midget prick of a brother] out of his deal right now -- he lives, I live, you live," Deadly Action Sammy seethes, "or?" And he punctuates that by noisily cocking the gun. "You stop breathing, permanently." "All of this tough talk," Sandra smiles after a tense moment, "it's not very convincing." She saunters around, blatantly turning her back on him as she teases, "C'mon Sam -- do you even want to break the deal?" "Whaddya think?" Sam duhs. "I don't know!" Sandra croons, spinning at last to face him again. "Aren't you tired of cleaning up [that little prick's] messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother?" "You're stronger than [that puny little idiot]," she argues, really getting into it. "You're better than him -- admit it! You're here, going through the motions, but the truth is? You'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone." "Hee!" Raoul shrieks. "She said 'tiny'!" Oh, trust me, my faithful companion, I'm tittering about it, too. Ignoring both us and Deadly Action Sammy, who orders her to stop, Sandra continues, "No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally be free!" Deadly Action Sammy, meanwhile, is very, very tall, and very, very hot. "I. Said. Shut. UP." he growls. "Mercy!" shrieks Raoul, fanning his overheated maw with one of his paws, for he is now a Southern lady with the vapors. "Mercy me!"