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(no subject)

"So what are we dealin' with?"

Oh but M'sieur, who am I to know such details? Hmm? [He grins a bit and assumes the role of a bus-boy. (Though really, who buses a table wearing a fedora? Papa Ge is not perfect, sadly.]

Perhaps you should go ask the police...

An' why bring this to my attention?

So you are not interested? Fair enough. [He moves to take up the newspaper.]

It is your choice after all M'sieur. Not mine.

Hey, no. [Dean reaches out for the newspaper, fixing him with a look] Never said I wasn't interested. I'm just askin' why me? I don't know you from Jack an' you're tellin' me about freak murders.

[No one ever said that Papa Ge had to tell the truth, and he really has no intention of starting now.]

M'sieur, my people clam The Antilles, Haiti as their home and we.... know things. Oui? I know you'd notice, and care.

[He pulls a cigar out of his coat pocket, ignoring both the 'no smoking' signs and the fact that by all laws of nature, it should not already be lit. Somehow, no one else beyond Dean even notices he is there. Uncanny, huh?]

[Dean notices all of this, ducking his head to peer cautiously at the whole area around him. He knows he should be a little freaked that none of the other patrons see anything so he narrows his eyes at Papa Ge]

So what, you're jus' some helpful spirit pointin' me down the right road?

Non M'sieur, I never point I simply... indicate. The choice is yours, which road to take, which sun to follow. Why would it matter to me?

[Papa Ge grins, and tips his hat slightly]

I hope to see you again M'sieur Winchester, very soon.

[Dean looks like he's about to argue some more before he nods. He might as well check it out, it come be something serious and he's not about to have that on his conscious] All right.

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