There isn't. It's mostly drool and bile, interspersed with the occasional retching cough. Business must have been slow in the 'Will Heal For Food' trade, since it doesn't look like Jimmy's had much to eat today. Leaning on a trash can, he hacks up a last gag before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He catches himself glancing in the trash can for anything edible, since stress just made him empty out what little had been in his stomach before.

But he finishes, spits a few times, and wipes his mouth on his sleeve again. "... Sorry." But Dean mentioned food. That was hopefully still on the table. And the shower. And not sleeping in the car? Well, he'd see on that one.