[He's unimpressed by the excuse, it shows as much on his face, a sort of ironic, deadpan expression that practically has you're so full of shit scrawled across it in digitally looping letters.

Whatever. Figures. Besides, he'd hate to let Crowley have that over him, the little victory of knowing he took the leap when Winchester couldn't.]

Sounds like the title of your first crappy book. Better get to work.

[He replies absently, turning his attention back toward the drop again.

Yeah, no, if one of the two of them's gonna pull this off, he'd rather not look like the coward of the pair. He sighs, gives his head a resigned shake, and peddles backward a few steps.]

Alright. Fine. What's a ten story drop anyway?

[He asks darkly, directed more at himself than the other man, and claps his hands together.]

You wanna count me off? On three.