War Is Coming Communications.

I hope I did this thing right with the filtering.

I just wanted to say that I'm Amy Pond. I'm from Scotland by way of England, by way of the entire universe. Long story, I was traveling when I left. I got here presumably by being sucked into the Earth in 2020. I hear that kind of thing is normal around here.

If anyone sees a bloke calling himself the Doctor, I am looking for him.

And as long as I'm here, I want to help. With this whole apocalypse business. I'm not some expert fighter or anything, but I've seen things.

This place isn't so bad as far as other realities go. Hakuna Matata and all that. Takes a little getting used to. But on the plus side no freaky scaly green guys have tried to kill me in the last twenty four hours, and I actually got sleep for more than my usual six hours for the first time in a while since I can remember. I must have been in high school last time I got to do that.

[Babs]
I'm thinking it's time to introduce myself to the locals.

Rubs his hand over his face as he leans his head back against the head of the Impala's car seat. There was a hell of a lot going through Dean's mind right now but as typical he was pushing it all down. He had plans, for when this was all over -- if he wasn't dead from it (God, it would just be easier ... Actually it wouldn't but at least he would have a couple of less things to worry about), to saturate his liver in alcohol. Preferably whiskey. Now though he was focusing his energy, with that hard-edge Winchester state of viewing things, on Sam.

He had just dialed Bobby's number and was waiting for the older man to pick up.

He checks the the rear view to see that Sam isn't on his way back yet.

"Bobby? Hey. I know you're busy with the camp and all of that, but I need your help with something real important." Dean says when Bobby answers