[The feed opens on a positively
gleaming vintage car, parked in the shade under some leaves. It's black, it's expensive-looking, and it's obviously very well-cared for.
It's an interesting juxtaposition to the
supremely annoyed hiss that's the first thing out of Crowley's mouth.] Ssssssssssso. If anyone else happens to want to bring something big here. Say, your car. Minor complication.
[At that point, he reaches into the frame and
picks the car up, revealing a perspective trick that had been making it look reasonably-car-sized. He'd set it down under a bush, for the establishing shot, because even while VERY UPSET that his precious Bentley is about the size of a remote-control car, there was no reason not to show it off.]
Gonna have to have a word with that shop guy later this month, see if there's anything to be done about it. Meantime, I guess I'm stashing this inside somewhere.
[At this point, it becomes apparent there's a
faint noise coming from the car; Crowley, still off-camera, sighs.] No one asked
you. [The music continues, and he cuts the feed before the song can really progress.]