"At this point, Constantine, I'm not even sure if I'm still sleeping. We were recently accosted by a Sandman demon..." The town he had come from had been put to sleep for what had felt like several weeks even though hardly any time had passed. It is quite possible they had only dreamt of defeating him and never actually done it. It would certainly explain how hardly anything in this town makes sense. Even though he's not sure he could conjure such an eccentric, tragic figure as John Constantine or invent such a peculiar accent, even if he was drawing upon his wildest imagination.

"Maybe it would be set up for men like you and me. Have you met the Marshal, and Mister Bright? They're not exactly believers, in magic or demons or-" Doc makes a face and gestures over John's face and torso. "Whatever it is you do." Apart from being a pain in the ass. Dark exorcisms and demon arts, was it?

"How do you even know what God wants, or if he's even there to be pulling on any light switches?"