Eyes off the merchandise, half-baked.

[Being high is the least of his concerns. Dean's halfway sure this kid's some kind of revenant, and scanning him to see what he's holding doesn't make him feel any better about him. That doesn't mean Dean's itching to go for his glock. This place did enough killing on its own.]

For somebody trying to stay under the radar, you're doing a piss-poor job of blending in.