[ Dean blinks at her, trying to parse out what's happening because it kinda comes from left field -- but she's right, and his stomach rumbling is in complete agreement. He doesn't really remember the last time he's eaten, and in typical Dean form he's more trusting of liquor he saw come out of a bottle than he is food he didn't see prepared.

Hence, cocktails, no food. But that's gonna catch up to him quick, and he's probably going to run out of options long. ]

Huh.

He looks down at his drink, then back up at her. ]

You're right. You'd think that would be part of the theme, tacos and margs.