"Oh yeah," Sam said. "All that ginger beer stuff? Pure censorship."
Dean stared into the middle distance. "Dad used to read me those books. All the stuff with their CO giving them ginger beer after missions, fighting over ginger beer . . ."
"Yeah, well, they were fighting Germans, not monsters," Sam pointed out.
"But don't you realise, Sammy?" Dean demanded. "All those years when he was giving us ginger beer after hunts. He could have been giving us whiskey, man! Whiskey!"
Sam thought about that. "Yeah. We've been robbed, man."
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