The attempt at an insult - and he was aware he was being insulted - didn't bother him. He didn't care was Crowley thought of him, so the insults simply didn't land.

The spike stopped several inches from his throat. It simply could not hurt him. He caught it easy in his fingers - they weren't even red from the punch - and twirled it lightly before causally lobing it Crowley. Backed by his own powers, however, it had more force than if it had been shot from a gun, slamming and impaling over half of it's ten inch length into Crowley's chest, aimed to hit between hit ribs rather than break bone.