Text
| - Lucifer: Yes. It's your game...your rules, so uh...I figure I can work with that. You win.
- Crowley : A mere acolyte, carrying your torch.
- Crowley: Really?
- Crowley: What are you doing?
- Crowley: Why?
- Gavin : Goodbye, then. And thank you...father.
- Gavin : So this is goodbye, then?
- Lucifer : My old friend, Crowley.
- Lucifer : You’re too kind...to yourself.
- Lucifer:
- Lucifer: Giving you what you want. Submission.
- Crowley : That's a mite unfriendly, seeing as I could be getting you Death's location in about the time it'd take you to reload.
- Lucifer: Why not? I figured out the rules of the house, and...well, all things considered, I think I'd rather be here than rotting in the cage with my drooling, insane - and not in a fun way - little bro Michael.
- Crowley : Yes. Forever. Unless of course I catch you smoking, in which case, I'll smack you stupid.
- Bobby : Well, then get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas.
|