[ Ah, yes, the delight and wonderment of introducing some new sorry bastard to the food of this futuristic dystopian Big Brother hellscape. He'd be lying his ass off if he said he wasn't looking forward to gauging Castiel's reaction to it; he hasn't even taken a bite of his own burrito because he's been on the edge of his seat just waiting.

In a way, it's kind of like their beginning all over again. The first person to introduce Cas to beer, to burgers, to any of that — and how tragic, by the way, that the poor guy loves red meat more than Dean does somehow and now it's blown off the skin of the freaking earth. ]

Hate to say I told you so.

[ (No he doesn't.)

He muses it in a way that doesn't sound all that sympathetic. Finally picks up his burrito, and the bite he takes is entirely too massive. Cheese strings out from it, and he has to do a little burrito-curl around it to get it to break off.

Two perfunctory chews later and he's speaking with his mouth full. ]

Ninety-nine percent of the time shrimp or tofu's the way to go. You get seafood, you get eggs, everything else?

[ A vague hand gesture, dismissing it not unlike a DJ scratching a record. ]

Not even worth it. Although-

[ He holds up one finger for dramatic effect. Swallows. ]

Call me crazy, but I do know one place that makes a damn good cricket chimichanga. Think it's because they, like, grind it you know?

[ Safe to say he does not accept the napkin. ]