Funny enough, and probably to no one's shock, Rey has never been to a prom. Not even with the fake memories of such a life lingers in the many people she has stored in her head. Social affairs are alien to her, a thing of fiction that she has only seen or heard about. At least that isn't so much her excuse now. She has no excuse, save for her sour mood and priorities.

Chin still resting in her palm, her eyes roll towards Dean when he speaks to her, before returning to the jukebox.

"Actually, been thinking how difficult it might be to disconnect that thing and carry it out of here."

It'd be worth more at the Speakeasy than a damn rubber duck, for sure.