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While fleeing a pack of demonically enhanced Minnesotans just outside Blue Earth, Our Intrepid Heroes run into a posse of bible-thumping amateur hunters and finagle an invitation back to the holy rollers' heavily fortified compound in the center of town, where they make the acquaintance of Reverend David Gideon and his daughter, Leah. Leah's been receiving visions over the last several weeks -- visions that she claims originate from the Heavenly host, much like our beloved Chuck -- and has shared with her fellow townsfolk those visions' apocalyptic content. The result is that the citizens of Blue Earth are perhaps more prepared for the impending battle than Sam and Dean themselves.
Of course, there's a problem, which the boys discover midway through the episode when My Drunk Baboo flutters in from points alcoholic to inform them that the real Leah has been dead for months and that the woman they'd been palling around with is actually the literal, honest-to-God Whore Of Babylon. Even worse? The only way to slaughter The Whore is by having a "true servant of the Lord" or whatever drive a cedar stake through her heart, and as Castiel and Dean have proven themselves unworthy on several occasions, and as "Sam is an abomination," it falls to the initially reluctant good reverend himself to spork his daughter's doppelganger.
Of course, they all get their asses handed to them by The Whore's minions until Dean, in a fit of desperation, lunges for the stake and rams it into The Whore's chest himself, and wouldn't you know it? It works. Which of course instantly makes Sam and Castiel think that Dean has secretly decided to say yes to Michael, so there's a lot of angst and whining until Dean takes off to visit that remarkably bendy yoga instructor from the beginning of Season Three to make her a number of Apocalypse-related promises he likely can't keep, and then the episode just sort of ends. What the hell, Kripke?
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Rattle, Rattle THEN! -- this with an extra-special DUN!, for a door to the distant past has flung itself open to reveal...that unusually bendy brunette from the beginning of the third season! Buh? Dashing El Deano, perhaps mindful of our nonexistent attention spans, thoughtfully addresses the unusually bendy brunette as "Lisa" before directing our attention to her son, "Ben," who is probably the result of a particularly vigorous weekend Our Intrepid Hero spent with the confidently self-sufficient yoga instructress back in the day, and you'd best keep all of that information somewhere near the top of your head so you don't wind up wondering what the hell is going on when we finally see her again at the very end of the episode. Ooops! Spoiler! In other news, My Sweet Baboo believed Our Father could save them all until last week's God Whisperer crapped all over that particular hope with news that The Uber-Boss is dunzo as far as offers of Apocalyptic assistance are concerned, and things are looking pretty grim, indeed, for Team Free Will just as the...
...Rattle, Rattle NOW! barges onto the scene. Out of little more than habit at this point, the NOW! advances menacingly in eerie silence until...BAM! An extreme close-up of the Impala's speedometer fills the screen, and we watch for a moment as the needle jitters around the 90-per mark until the camera leaps up to catch Dean white-knuckling the steering wheel while tossing terrified -- yet luxuriously lashed -- glances into his rear-view mirror. "Drive faster!" Sam pants from the passenger seat, a lurid gash gouged into his heretofore remarkably healthy shoulder. "I can't!" Dean snaps back before regaining his composure somewhat and wondering if Sam's okay. "I'm amazing!" Sam grits as he, like, tries to pop his shoulder back into its socket, and the boys fret a bit about the unusually large den of demonically enhanced Midwesterners they're apparently fleeing until Dean nearly rams the Impala into a flaming semi jackknifed across the road in front of them. Fleet-Footed El Deano averts disaster by stomping down on Metallicar's brakes and, after muttering several dark imprecations under his breath, he throws the car into reverse to escape in the other direction when...SMASH! A demonically enhanced blonde with an immaculate French braid rams a fist through Dean's window and hauls Our Imperiled Hero bodily from the Impala just as one of her demonically enhanced compatriots does the same on Darling Sammy's side of the car. The assault ends before it's really gotten going, however, when a just-appearing firetruck starts hosing the attackers down with a jet blast of what can only be holy water, given the way the demonically enhanced immediately start in with the wails and the smoking and such, and as the boys gape, flabbergasted, some yokel with a bullhorn starts Latinating from the firetruck's cab. Soon enough, the demonically enhanced have fallen to their knees to expel vast streams of bitterly black goo from their noses and mouths, and when it's all over, the now thoroughly depossessed hosts keel over onto the asphalt, most likely dead.
"That's something you don't see every day!" Dean jokes, but his breathlessness and rapidly blinking googly eyes betray a sense of shock and panic that has yet to subside. The two shakily disembark from the Impala to approach their saviors, the most prominent of whom spent the better part of his thirties on some geektrocity inspired by one of the '90s' most egregious crapfests. Though, you know, I'm inclined not to hold this hateful violation of all that is right and good against him because he is, after all, awfully, awfully pretty. "Those piercing eyes!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, instantly smitten. "That manly jaw!" Raoul shrieks again, fanning away at his rapidly overheating maw with one exquisitely honed paw. "Oh, and that glorious mullet!" and I'm afraid I'm going to have to stop you right there, friend of friends, for while the gentleman's coif is indeed a bit lengthy there at the nape of his exceptionally vigorous neck, I believe it falls far short of that particular hairstyle's rigorous requirements. "Well! I stand corrected!" No harm intended, Raoul. "None taken, I'm sure!" Then, shall I continue? "Please do!" As you wish.
"You two all right?" Our Intrepid Heroes' most prominent savior calls out as he steps across the half-dozen or so corpses now littering the pavement. "Peachy!" Dean replies, still struggling to process what just happened. The most prominent savior nods and makes to head back to the truck while advising, "Be careful -- it's dangerous around here." Dean's all, "Hold up a sec! Who are you?" The Most Prominent Savior pauses to rather pridefully reply, "We're The Sacrament Lutheran Militia!" Dean goes, "Whaaaaaa?" so The Most Prominent Savior elaborates like so: "I hate to tell you this, but those were demons, and this is The Apocalypse, so...buckle up!" Dean pops his eyebrows towards the sky and dangles his lower jaw in surprise just in time to get a great big whopping mouthful of...
...SPLAT! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" shrieks Raoul, once more writhing about upon his overstuffed armchair with delight over the fifth season's endlessly compelling blood-burst of a title card before settling himself down a bit to shoot yours truly A Look. Uh-oh. You have something to say, my faithful lizardly companion? "I do! [A-him!] That was FILTHY!" Okay, houseguest, first of all: VOLUME. "Oh, I do apologize, I'm sure!" And second of all: You were thinking the exact same thing, and you know it. "Alas! It's true! I am just as base and vile as you!" This is why we get along so well. "Hee!" Now, do us both a favor and go whip us up a couple of your cleansing cocktails, because I've a feeling this tedious episode's going to be a real drag to recap. "Okay!" I love it when you're so agreeable.
And while Raoul toddles off to that package store he's calling a den, let's rejoin Our Intrepid Heroes as they offer The Most Prominent Savior their demon-hunting bona fides by introducing him and his companions to the Impala's bottomless trunk. The renegade Lutherans are suitably impressed. "Looks like we're in the same line of business," Sam opens. "And among colleagues!" Dean happily notes. The Renegade Lutherans unfortunately do not share in Dean's enthusiasm, so he's forced to attempt to draw them out by admiring their police-issued shotguns and "inspired" use of holy water and such, but The Renegade Lutherans remain immune to Dean's charms, so he finally just blurts out, "Guys, come on -- this whole corner of the state is nuts with demon omens. We just want to help, that's all." "We're on the same team, here!" Sam stresses, backing his brother up before adding, "Just talk to us." The Renegade Lutherans pass around A Look Fraught With Significance for a little while until The Most Prominent Savior shrugs, "Follow us."
A short time later, the Impala's grumbling into The Renegade Lutherans' heavily fortified compound, at the center of which sits a homey-looking wood-frame church. As Sam and Dean disembark, a redheaded woman who will become important later chides her son, "Dylan," for attempting to sneak a pair of headphones into the sanctuary, and then the boys plus The Renegade Lutherans step across a prominent devil's trap spray-painted onto the sidewalk to enter the house of worship, where they stumble upon the triple wedding ceremony currently in progress. "Who thought The Apocalypse could be so romantic?" the rough-and-ready-looking pastor smiles from the altar, eliciting appreciative grins from his heavily armed congregation. Seriously, every single person in the pews -- even the chick who looks like a Century 21 agent -- is packing some major heat, which only Sam seems to find strange. By the way, the little board announcing this week's hymn selections features "EPIPHANY" in big old hateful capital letters at the top, so either this episode's meant to take place in early January for some stupid reason, or the word's cleverly hinting at Dean's shocking end-of-episode realization. You know, just in case you care. "I most certainly do not!" shrieks Raoul, at long last toddling back from his den with that cunning little trolley cart of his all a-clatter with healing flagons of every size and shape imaginable. "Where is the VIOLENCE?! Whither the GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!?" I'm afraid there won't be much of either for a very long time, my scaly friend, so you might want to get cracking on those beverages. "Hmph!" Raoul snorts, two perfect circles of smoke popping from his mightily offended nostrils. "And to think! We're a mere five episodes away from this charming little Thursday evening divertissement's no doubt awe-inspiring season finale, and they're wasting their time on church!" I feel your pain, Raoul, and I am certain a dose of healing booze will do much to alleviate it. "[Slurp!] You're right! I feel better already!" Excellent. "Care for a hairy virgin?!" EXCUSE ME? "I mean the cocktail, you silly little man!" Oh! Oh, thank God. No, I'm okay for now, but by all means, don't let my temporary bout of recap-related abstinence prevent you from indulging, friend of friends. "Okay! [Slurp!]" Now, where the hell was I?
Oh, yes: Father Rough And Ready babbles on about mawwiage while Our Incredulous Heroes mutter and murmur to themselves over how asinine it is to find themselves stuck in this church a mere five episodes away from this season's no doubt awe-inspiring finale. At their side, the most diminutive of their earlier saviors makes some dismissive mocking noises of his own until this ridiculous scene ends as abruptly as it had begun, and the thing we know, Father Rough And Ready's sidling on up to Sam and Dean to smile, "So Rob tells me you boys hunt demons!" The Tightassed Ginormotron's all prim and polite with the proper "Yes, sir!" and such until Father Rough And Ready sardonically notes, "You missed a few." Sam visibly unclenches thanks to Father Rough And Ready's gently mocking manner, and the three chat about the sudden profusion of demonic nests in the area for a bit until Father Rough And Ready invites them for a look-see down in the church's community hall, where they find a couple dozen flannel-clad Renegade Lutherans brewing up some holy water and filling shotgun shells with rock salt and whatnot. "Everybody pitches in," Father Rough And Ready explains. "So...the whole church?" Sam guesses. "The whole town," Father Rough And Ready clarifies. "A whole town full of hunters?" Dean marvels. "I don't know whether to run screaming or buy a condo." Father Rough And Ready pointedly ignores Dean's attempt at humor and shrugs, "Well, the demons were killing us. We had to do something." Sam wonders why the town didn't "call in The National Guard," partly because he's suddenly become a great big fifteen-foot-tall moron with drool oozing out of the side of his mouth, but mainly because the script dictated he allow Father Rough And Ready an opportunity to note that he and his congregation have been directed in their preparations and retaliatory forays against the demonic hordes by a higher power -- a higher power who expressly forbade them from contacting secular authorities -- and right here, people. Right here is where this episode completely fell apart for me. "Oh, my! [Slurp!] So early in the hour?!" Yep. "Well! Would you care to share your dazzling insights with the rest of the class!?" Don't get snippy with me, Raoul. "Hee!" It's just that Our Intrepid Idiots just learned God's out of the picture, permanently, and they've known since the fourth-season finale that the angels now running the show are untrustworthy in the extreme, so why would they not immediately suspect that anything any "higher power" has to say in this situation is complete and utter bullshit? Or, you know, why would they not immediately suspect that it might in fact be originating from their adversary's side? Hmmm? HMMM? "You're asking the wrong dragon!" WHY? "[Slurp!] Because I don't care! Hee! [Slurp!]" Fine. Abandon me in this, my hour of need. "Okay!" Bitch. "[Titter!]"
ANY-way, long story short, that higher power ends up being Father Rough And Ready's very own daughter, "Leah," who claims she started receiving visions a couple of months ago, and it's through these visions that she knows where the demons will attack, how to fight those demons off, how to exorcise any stragglers with a special Enochian spell, and what to do when two pretty Kansas boys with super-special angel-repelling sigils carved into their ribcages show up in town, the latter of which involves welcoming them with both open arms and a simpering smile plastered across her face. I don't think I'll be surprising anyone when I note that Leah seems far too good to be true. Well, I won't be surprising anyone except Our Intrepid Idiots, who immediately jump to the conclusion that Leah's a holy Prophet Of The Lord just like the much-abused and much-missed Chuck, and proceed to throw their lot in with The Renegade Lutherans. Dipshits. "Language!" Bite me. "Hee! [Slurp!]"
Bar. Sam's dialed Castiel's cell, and this is what he hears after a couple of rings:
The Voicemail Lady: You have reached the voicemail of...
My Sweet Baboo: I don't understand -- why do you want me to say my name?
[Pause]
[Sound of Castiel punching random buttons on the keypad.]
The Voicemail: BEEEEEEEP!
HA! Sam warily notes that he and Dean could use Castiel's assistance on their current case in Blue Earth, Minnesota, and tacks on a hopeful wish that My Sweet Baboo actually receives the message before he hangs up. Hee. Sam turns accept a couple of free beers from the most diminutive of his earlier saviors, who happens to own the joint. "Busy night," Sam notices. "I'm tellin' ya," The Most Diminutive Of His Earlier Saviors replies with a grin, "since The End started, it's been like one long last call." Atta girl. Um. Girls. Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, Sam totes the free beers over to the table Dean's secured, and the two hash over a couple of interpretations of recent events -- neither of which, as it eventually turns out, is correct. Dean thinks the demonic hordes are targeting the preacher's daughter, while Sam's just pissed off that the angels are sending these innocent Minnesotans to do their dirty work. "They could get ripped to shreds!" Sam frets. Dean thinks that one over for a moment, then levels with his brother like so: "We're all gonna die, Sam, in, like, a month. Maybe two." Sam's silent frown indicates he disagrees with Dean's assertion, so Dean stresses, "I mean it! This is the end of the world, but these people aren't freaking out. In fact, they're running to the exits in an orderly fashion, and I don't know that that's such a bad thing." "Who says they're all gonna die?" Sam counters, more than a little annoyed with Dean's sudden turn towards extreme negativity. "What about us saving them?" Dean looks vaguely guilty at this, but before he can reply, the church bells ring out, calling everyone to an emergency meeting because "Leah's had another vision," so it's back to the...
...sanctuary, where Father Rough And Ready informs The Renegade Lutherans of a fresh demon lair about five miles out of town, and asks for volunteers to take said fresh demon lair out. That attractive guy from that awful show immediately raises his hand, followed quickly by the bartender, who smirks, "Someone's gotta cover Rob's ass!" which would probably sound dirty -- especially considering the smoldering glance Rob's now shooting in the bartender's direction -- were I not so dreadfully bored at this point. Our Intrepid Heroes also offer their services, but before anyone gets to shoot monsters in the face with rock salt, they must all endure the prayer Father Rough And Ready now offers, which pleads for the success of their impending mission. For whatever stupid reason, Dean bows his head to join in. Fortunately, College Boy's smart enough to ignore the pointless supplications in favor of spying on the congregants, and he notes with interest that the bartender studiously ignores the group supplication in favor of ostentatiously swigging from his hip flask. DUZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Demonic Lair. The boys plus Father Rough And Ready, Rob, Dylan, the bartender, and that redheaded woman who will become important later tippy-toe through the leaf debris littering the lair's front lawn with various implements of demonic destruction at the ready, including what appears to be an unnecessarily bulky and extremely uncomfortable-looking portable holy water blaster strapped to the redhead's back, like, does no one in Blue Earth own a Super Soaker, for Christ's sake? In any event, everyone goes all Tough Guy Jazz Hands with the weapons and such until...a demonically enhanced yokel jumps on Dean's back! DUN! Fortunately, Dylan's there to blast the guy with a couple of rounds of rock salt, and as the demonically enhanced yokel writhes in agony on the ground, Dylan babbles out that nifty little Enochian spell the preacher's daughter taught everyone, so soon enough, the yokel's expelling a foul stream of bitterly black demonic goo into the cool afternoon air. Meanwhile, inside the lair proper, another demonically enhanced yokel's attacked the bartender, but Sam's come equipped with The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't. Luckily enough, it works this time, and that's two demonically enhanced yokels down with an as-yet-unspecified number of their Hell-sent colleagues to go. "I'm bored!" I feel you, my scaly friend. As far as action sequences go, this one feels slipshod and choppy, and it's not like we don't know Our Intrepid Heroes and their Minnesotan pals are going to prevail in the end, even with Dashing El Deano's shotgun jamming at a particularly inopportune moment while Darling Sammy gets his remarkably healthy ass handed to him -- again. "[Pout!]" Now, now. Don't be getting all sullen on me -- not when we still have more than twenty-eight minutes of show time to get through. "[Sulk!]" Just drink your juice, Raoul, and everything will be all right. "Okay! [Slurp!]"
Now, where was I? Oh, yes: So, despite Dashing El Deano's shotgun jamming at a particularly inopportune moment while Darling Sammy gets his remarkably healthy ass handed to him, Our Intrepid Heroes and their Minnesotan pals eventually prevail against the sixteen -- yep, I counted -- demonically enhanced yokels, and as the victors elatedly lope back to their various pickups and Metallicars and whatnot, Sam practically giggles, "I guess that's what it's like, huh?" Dean's all, "The hell are you talking about?" so Sam explains, "Having backup!" and I'm certainly happy you're all enjoying yourselves so much, but could we get to the goddamned point of this episode, already? Some of us have refreshing beverages to attend to. "Hee! [Slurp!] At this tedious pace, I'll have my entire trolley cart all to myself!" Gloating is such an ugly color on you, Raoul. "[Snicker!] [Slurp!]" ANY-way, the elder Renegade Lutherans pile into Rob's truck to head back to town while an obviously smitten Dylan hangs back with the boys to enjoy an illicit brewski or two at the Impala when...a pair of hands latch onto Dylan's ankles to yank him beneath the car! DUN! Dylan howls and screams as he vanishes from sight while Our Intrepid Heroes leap into action, with Dean grabbing at Dylan's flailing arms as Sam hauls the sneaky yokel responsible for this latest trauma out into the open, and though Sam's mighty quick to plunge The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't into the yokel's gut, I'm afraid it's curtains for poor, smitten Dylan. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Yep, as Dean lugs the dead teen out from underneath the Impala, Dylan's rapidly cooling head drops back to gift us all with a lovingly lingering look at the garish hole now torn through his throat. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I'm so happy this pleases you, Raoul. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Dean, of course, couldn't be more pissed, and he all but rages "CRAP!" at the uncaring Heavens as this evening's first METAL TEETH CHOMP! arrives to drag us into the commercial beak.
Church. Aftermath. And good goddamn, but these people were quick to sling Poor Dead Dylan into a coffin for his funeral. Though why Our Intrepid Heroes aren't insisting on cremation, I'll never know, but that's not important right now because what is important right now is that the redheaded woman who will become important later is named Jane, and she's married to Rob, apparently, and she blames Our Intrepid Heroes for her son's death. Got all that? "I do not!" Well, then, you're out of luck, because I'm not repeating myself, because I have to plow through the hideously lengthy and boring funeral service that follows, during which Father Rough And Ready offers what I am sure is a heartfelt and touching eulogy until that damned drama-queen daughter of his decides to fake an epileptic fit right there in front of the poor kid's casket like the spiteful attention whore we've long suspected her to be. "Hee! I see what you did there!" Oh, I'd have to wake up pretty early in the morning to sneak one past you, wouldn't I? "Indeed! [Slurp!] Now do be a dear and hurry this along! Your hairy virgin is getting warm!" How...appetizing.
Anyway, the attention whore pitches a fit, and when she "recovers," she gasps, "Dylan's coming back!" "Zombies!" shrieks Raoul. "Hooray!" And trust me, my scaly friend, it saddens me more than you can possibly imagine to say this, but she's not talking about zombies. "Rats!" Nope, she's actually talking about The Resurrection Of The Dead on Judgment Day, and if that's a revelation to her, then that father of hers must absolutely suck at his day job. There's a very lengthy scene during which she assures Jane and Rob that they'll be seeing their son again, the upshot of which is this: The good people of Blue Earth will only find themselves among The Elect if they immediately forswear drinking, gambling, and premarital sex. "Dean," Sam notes as Our Intrepid Heroes exit the funeral, "they've just basically outlawed about 90% of your personality." Heh. Dean's all apathetic and such, which naturally disturbs Sam, but when Sam tries to get Dean to talk about it, Dean just shuts down completely and bow-leggedly clompy-stomps off to...
...the rectory, where he finds Leah lounging on a sofa, and oh, my holy God, this is dull, so let's cut to the chase, shall we? "Capital idea! [Slurp!]" Long story short, Leah tells Dean absolutely nothing he didn't already know about The End Times and the paradise on Earth that's supposed to follow Lucifer's defeat, and then Little Lord Pissypants feels sorry for himself --- AGAIN -- and then it's over. !
The Only Bar In Blue Earth, which is now utterly devoid of patrons thanks to The Attention Whore's recent anti-booze fiat. Sam ambles in and gratefully accepts The Bartender's offer to help him "kill some inventory." Mmmm. Dead inventory. "[Slurp!]" Shut up, Raoul. "Hee!" The two toast to better times, or something, and settle in for a l-o-o-o-o-n-g conversation that basically amounts to this: The Bartender is an atheist. !
This Week's Motel Room. Darling Sammy straggles in, moderately looped, to tell Dean that The Attention Whore apparently ordered the dismantling of the town's cell towers, and has further demanded that all Internet and cable TV access be cut off, the better to protect the good people of Blue Earth from "the corruption of the outside world." "They're turning this place into some kind of fundamentalist compound!" Sam shouts. Deeply Depressed El Deano remains apathetic, much to Drunken Sammy's dismay, and the two yell at each other until Dean's finally had enough of his younger brother's slightly inebriated ranting, and he grabs his jacket and bow-leggedly clompy-stomps on out of there, despite the fact that it's past curfew. !
Church. The Attention Whore, mascara all smeary thanks to the copious crocodile tears now running down her cheeks, runs into a community hall that's packed with Renegade Lutherans despite the fact that it's past curfew to wail, "The angels hate us! They said we'll never get to Heaven because people are drinking!" "[Slurp!]" Shut UP, Raoul! "Hee!" "Who's drinking?" demands Jan or Janet or whatever the hell her redheaded ass is called. The Attention Whore whimpers. !
This Week's Motel Room. Drunken Sammy boozily pages through a couple of volumes of lore until...Drunken Castiel magically appears behind him! D'OH! "I got your message," My Woozy Baboo slurs, unsteadily rocking back and forth in front of the room's refrigerator, which he's flung open in search of more beer. "It was long, your message," Castiel rather amusingly continues, "and I find the sound of your voice grating." Hee. "What the hell happened to you?" Sam warily side-eyes. "I found a liquor store," Castiel replies. "And?" Sam prompts. "And I drank it!" Atta girl. "Hooray! [Slurp!]" There's a little more drunken schtick between the two boozehounds until Sam finally gets down to business. He brings Castiel up to speed on recent events, taking care to note that "Leah Gideon" -- and wow, I hate that fucking name -- has been receiving holy messages from God, which leads Castiel to blurt, "She's not a prophet." Sam's all, "You sure?" "The names of all the prophets are seared into my brain," My Sweet Baboo peevishly growls, "and Leah Gideon is not one of them!" DUN! Also: A-ha! This makes The Attention Whore a LYING LEAH WHO LIES! "Demian!" shrieks Raoul, rightfully appalled. "That was awful!" Oh, leave me alone, you dizzy lizard -- we've still got another seventeen and a half minutes to go in this wretched excuse for an episode, and I'm running out of gas, here. "Then for Heaven's sake! Taste of your hairy virgin already!" Um. I'd rather not just yet. Thanks for reminding me it's there, though. "No problem! [Slurp!]" Now, might I continue? "Please do!" Wonderful.
Somewhere outside, Deeply Depressed El Deano hears forest noises emanating from The Only Bar In Blue Earth, so he wanders on over to investigate. Seems The LYING LEAH WHO LIES has tasked a posse of Renegade Lutherans with shutting the place down permanently, and The Bartender -- "Paul," as we finally learn during the argument that follows -- quite naturally disagrees with this proposed course of action. The subsequent discussion goes a little something like this:
Renegade Lutherans: "Jesus! Angels! Heaven!"
Bartender Paul: "Fuck you!"
Renegade Lutherans: [BANG!]
Bartender Paul slumps to the floor, dead at the hand of Redheaded Janice, who seethes, "No one's gonna stop me from seeing my son again!" METAL TEETH CHZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! "I think we should switch over to Grey's Anatomy!" Raoul! "Yes?!" Bite your tongue. "Hee! [Slurp!]"
This Week's Motel Room. Aftermath. Deeply Depressed El Deano, his hands streaked with Bartender Paul's blood, slouches through the door to find Sam and a still-drunk Castiel waiting for him. "Where the hell have you been?" Dean grumps at My Sweet Baboo. "On a bender!" Castiel grumps right back. Heh. Dean, of course, is shocked and appalled that their guardian angel is thrashed, but Castiel simply howls, "IT IS NOT OF IMPORT!" and turns Our Intrepid Heroes' collective attention to The Attention Whore at hand. Turns out The LYING LEAH WHO LIES is actually The Whore Of Babylon, yet another Revelation beast who rose with Lucifer to lay waste to this worthless little town in southern Minnesota for whatever stupid reason. The real Leah Gideon, of course, has likely been dead for the last couple of months, and The Attention Whore Of Babylon took her place to lure the good people of Blue Earth into perdition, or something like that. You'd think these Revelation people would have better things to do with their time. Sigh. Anyway, those hordes of demons swarming the town? Under her control. And that nifty little Enochian exorcism? "Fake," Castiel reveals with a broad grin creeping across his blotto face. "It actually means, 'You breed with the mouth of a goat.'" Our Intrepid Heroes stare. "It's funnier in Enochian." Heh. Dean takes a moment to absorb all of this, then wonders, "So, then, how do we go Pimp Of Babylon all over this bitch?" "Language!" He can't hear you, Raoul. "Drat! [Slurp!]"
Church, and now it's Redheaded Janelle's turn to smear her ungodly amounts of mascara all over her face as she suffers from shooter's remorse back in the rectory. The LYING LEAH WHO LIES assures the soulless ginger that offing Bartender Paul served the town's greater good, and then Father Rough And Ready enters to say...something I totally don't care about at this point, because now all we're doing is marking time until Sam or Dean or Castiel just frigging sporks The Attention Whore Of Babylon already, and is this episode over yet? "It is not!" Crap. "[Slurp!]" I hate you, Raoul. "Hee!"
This Week's Motel Room. My Boozy Baboo slings a pointy chunk of wood down on the table and announces, "The Whore can be killed with that." "That," of course, "is a stake made from a cypress tree in Babylon." Unfortunately, "The Whore can only be killed by a true servant of Heaven." "Not you," Castiel glooms, nodding at Dean. "Or me," he continues somewhat listlessly. "Sam, of course, is an abomination." Hee. "We'll have to find someone else," Castiel concludes. And just who might that someone be?
Why, Father Rough And Ready, of course! Well, you know, if that immediate cut to his increasingly unnerved face is anything to go by. Father Rough And Ready again stands at the altar while his Whore of a daughter addresses what remains of the congregation. Long story short, she tells the assembled that The Day Of Judgment begins this evening at midnight, but adds that "there are still a few elements that need to be taken care of." To that end, she intends to provide the bible thumpers with a list naming the remaining sinners of Blue Earth, each and every one of whom must be taken out before The Rapture begins. Or something like that. Father Rough And Ready freaks, and drags The LYING LEAH WHO LIES to one side to scold her. "Stop it!" he hisses. "You're gonna get somebody killed!" "Let me go," The Attention Whore Of Babylon smiles, "or the sinner I name will be you." DUN! Also: METAL TEETH CHOMP! Also also: Wow, she's wearing a lot of foundation. "It's at least an inch thick! You're strangling your pores, Miss Whore!" I think you need another cocktail, Raoul. "You're right! [Slurp!]"
Street. Father Rough And Ready meanders aimlessly about until My Sozzled Baboo flutters in to slap a hand on the guy's shoulder and whisk him over to This Week's Motel Room, where Our Intrepid Heroes break the bad news about his Whore of a daughter. Is that it? "I do believe it is!" Excellent. !
Outside This Week's Motel Room, Dean passes Castiel a bottle of...you know what? Fuck this shit. The actual, honest-to-God Whore Of Babylon is running roughshod over this pointless little town, and these two are yammering away at each other about their goddamned Daddy Issues? Go to Hell, Supernatural.
Church. Janiqua and Rob sling some unfortunate into a storage closet, where the unfortunate joins several dozen other hapless Minnesotans who have been rounded up in the last three minutes. "Okay, then!" perks The Whore, once the closet door's been locked. "Get the kerosene!" "But there are kids in there!" Janessa squeals. "All the better!" shrieks Raoul. "Burn them! BURN THE CHILDREN!" Honey, you know that's never going to happen, so why are you getting all excited? "Oh, poop! I never get to have any fun!" There, there. You just hush up and have another guzzle, 'cause I think we're close to the end. "Hooray! [Slurp!]"
Rectory. The Whore saunters into her father's office and takes a moment to admire her horrifying true visage in one of the mirrors. "'Horrifying'?! Where!?" I was being kind. "Oh! [Slurp!]" Castiel leaps out from behind a wardrobe, and...Christ, this is dull. Long story short, My Sweet Baboo pins The Whore's arms behind her back, but just as Father Rough And Ready's about to spork her, she pulls that mewling, whimpering crap, all, "Daddy! Please! No!" and stupid Father Rough And Ready falls for it, giving The Whore enough time to spit some serious Enochian in Castiel's general direction, and the angel goes down for the count. The Whore flips some generalized telekinetic mojo all around the room, and Our Intrepid Heroes plus Father Rough And Ready go flying into various walls, allowing The Whore to escape. !
Community Hall. "Help!" cries The LYING LEAH WHO LIES. "He's a demon!" Her assembled human minions immediately attack the just-arriving Father Rough And Ready, knocking the pointy chunk of cypress from his hands. For his part, Sam, like, wrestles the soulless ginger into a headlock to prevent her from torching the unfortunates in the storage closet, leaving Dean to battle The Whore all by his lonesome. Of course, the supercharged Whore immediately beats Our Intrepid Hero to the floor and proceeds to choke the living crap out of him as he fumbles helplessly for the cypress stake, all the while sneering, "Please -- like you're a servant of Heaven? This is why my team's gonna win! You're the Great Vessel? You're pathetic, self-hating, and faithless! It's the end of the world, and you're just gonna sit back and watch it happen!" "Don't be so sure, Whore!" Dean snarls, and with that, he jams the stake into The Whore's stomach.
It then takes her a full thirty seconds of screentime to die. GOD, I hate this show.
And when it's finally -- FINALLY -- all over, a bleak-looking Janerva bleats, "But...I don't understand! How are we supposed to get to Paradise now?" "I'm pretty sure you're headed in a different direction," Dean rather predictably snarks, and then we're off to...
...the parking lot, where Our Intrepid Heroes load their heavily damaged angel into the Impala's back seat along with Father Rough And Ready, all the while bickering about the ease with which Dean slaughtered this week's primary monster. "How did you do that?" Sam wonders. "My long run of luck held out, I guess," Dean jokes. Sam's not having it, and angrily demands, "Are you gonna do something stupid?" "Like what?" Dean too-innocently counters. "Like Michael stupid!" Sam snaps. "Gimme a break," Dean snorts, and the two embark to motor on over to...
...This Week's Motel Room. My Battered Baboo recuperates on one of the beds as Sam tends to Father Rough And Ready's many, many wounds. Meanwhile, Dean bolts for the door. "Where ya goin'?" Suspicious Sammy asks. "Just gonna grab some clean bandages out of the trunk," Dean LIES, and with that, he peels off into this evening's final METAL TEETH CHOMP! "Are we done yet?!" We are not. "Rats! [Slurp!]"
Dean drives. Drive, Dean, drive! Driving, driving, driving, driving, and...oh, I want to kill myself. Remember Bendy Lisa from the THEN!? "I do not!" Quiet, you. "Hee! [Slurp!]" ANY-way, here she is, and this scene feels so random and tacked-on that I won't begin to attempt to interpret it, so here are the basic facts: Dean's driven all night to surprise Bendy Lisa with this completely unexpected visit and, after some pointless small talk, he confesses his undying love for her and their son, and promises to "make arrangements" for the two of them so they might avoid the "trippy" "bad" "crap" that's about to engulf the planet. "Whatever happens, you're gonna be okay," he vows. "What are you talking about?" Bendy Lisa asks, more than a little freaked out by this entire and entirely bizarre encounter. "The people that I'm gonna see ," Dean tells her, "they're not gonna get anything from me without agreeing to a few conditions." I think that's a DUN!, but I stopped caring about this episode way back during the third goddamned scene, so to hell with it. Bendy Lisa's still not sure what's going on -- like, join the frigging club, lady -- but she wisely senses that Dean's about to make a huge mistake, and she begs him to reconsider. Alas, Our Intrepid Idiot has made up his mind, and so Bendy Lisa's pleas are all for naught. He kisses her one last time -- I think, 'cause he might actually be whispering something into her ear -- and then he heads back to the Impala, and we finally -- FINALLY -- fade to black.
Thank God that shit's over with -- I'd like a drink! "It's about time!" Oh, that's nice. Feel like handling the preview for this show's hundredth episode, Raoul? "No!" Good enough for me. See you week! "Kisses! Kisses to all my pretties!"
Demian is having a cocktail. Raoul is already half in the bag. "[Hic!]" You may reach the former at demian_twop@yahoo.com. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon still under house arrest on the Internet.
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