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Now that Our Intrepid Heroes have managed to secure the phoenix ash they need to off The Mother Of All, they of course need to find out where The Mother Of All's been hanging out, so they send My Sweet Baboo off to kidnap one of the friendlier monsters they've encountered in the past -- way, way far in the past, as it turns out, for Castiel returns from his mission with Lenore, that cow-sucking vampire no one's bothered to think about for nearly five years. Lenore, alas, is much the worse for the wear when we meet up with her again, for The Mother's been broadcasting all sorts of nasty messages to her offspring ever since she rose from Purgatory at the beginning of February, and Mommie's constant nagging has driven Lenore to drink. The good thing about this particular telepathic connection, though, is that Lenore and all of the other Mommie Spawn know exactly where the old gal is: Grants Pass, Oregon.
So, after My Sweet Baboo fries what's left of Poor Lenore's brain straight out of her skull (more on that later), the boys plus Bobby and Castiel flutter on over to Oregon, where they find very little of note until a chance encounter with a frat full of slowly disintegrating shapeshifters leads them to a bar full of rapidly decaying vampire-ghoul hybrids, all of whom seem to have been felled by some mysterious fever. After an especially gruesome run-in with the local constabulary -- every last one of whom had been secretly converted to The Mother's cause, of course -- Our Intrepid Heroes finally track The Mother to a diner, where she spends a very lengthy period of time explaining her take on things before Dean rather craftily tricks her into offing herself by sucking on his neck. You see, he'd dumped some of that phoenix ash into a shot of whiskey and downed it, so when Mommie latches on to his carotid for a snack, she ends up with a mouthful of the one thing on the planet that can kill her dead. Pretty sneaky, Dean.
Of course, The Mother's defeat does not mean the end of the angst for Our Dear Boys. Turns out that Crowley's still alive -- something initially claimed by The Mother during her lengthy speech -- and he's apparently been in cahoots with My Sweet Baboo this entire time. I have no idea how they're going to square this shocking twist with everything that's come before it thus far this season, but I have to admit: At least these last couple of episodes haven't been boring. And the body count in this one was spectacular.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Rattle, Rattle Tacky Blue Glitter THEN! Crowley, as I'm sure you'll recall, spent most of the first half of this season interrogating a wide variety of beasties in what appeared to be an abandoned asylum until My Badass Baboo most awesomely torched the demon's bones, thereby immolating Hell's temporary new master while bringing to a close what had been an exhausting storyline for everyone involved. Shortly after all that happened, we learned that each of those tortured beasties emanated from a single source known as "The Mother Of All," an entity who can only be defeated through judicious application of phoenix ash. So, Our Intrepid Heroes traveled back in time to 1861 to secure a bottle of said ash, which brings us right up to the...
...Rattle, Rattle Tacky Blue Glitter NOW! The advancing NOW! dissolves into the night sky, allowing the camera to pan down until it lands on a tidy little strip mall currently playing host to, among other establishments, the "8TH STREET SPORTS LOUNGE." And as the camera continues to work its way towards the ground, two boozy frat boys emerge from the SPORTS LOUNGE in question to bitch about the bar's prices until one of them spots The Mother Of All sauntering on over in their general direction from points unknown. Mother, as is her wont, has clad herself in little more than a bloodstained white shift for this portion of tonight's entertainment, and when Douchetard Number One greets her arrival with, "Heaven must be missing an angel!" she unfortunately does not immediately tear his head from his neck with her bare hands. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, once again jumping the gun considerably whilst writhing about atop his overstuffed armchair with delight, and Raoul! "Yes?!" I said "she unfortunately does not immediately tear his head from his neck with her bare hands." "Oh, poop!" Now, there's no need to pout, my scaly friend. "[Sulk!]" Things are about to get quite vicious, I assure you, so if you'll just be patient and let me continue? "Promise!?" Promise. "Then by all means!" Excellent.
So, while Mother unfortunately does not immediately tear the douchetard's head from his neck with her bare hands, she does brush a couple of ominous fingers against his cheek, so I think it's safe to assume that Douchetard Number One is not long for this world. "And thank heavens for that!" Raoul? "Ooops! Sorry! Hee!" ANY-way, Mother vanishes off towards the bar, leaving the douchetards alone in the parking lot and, after a series of sickly red lines race unnoticed through the capillaries just beneath Number One's skin, the now-imperiled douchetard grins, "I think she likes me!" Douchetard Number Two quite rightly rolls his eyes at this and drags his companion off towards their car while...
...Mother enters the bar proper, barefoot, to the deeply funkadelic opening bass line of Hot Chocolate's "You Sexy Thing." She takes a moment to scan the crowd -- there are at least two dozen patrons and employees currently mingling with each other -- then turns to bolt the front doors, effectively barricading them by snapping off both the lock's twist knob and the doors' handles. Once this is done, she calmly saunters across the floor until her somewhat disheveled appearance draws the attention of two boozehounds slouched across a nearby table. "You okay?" the first of the boozehounds leans forward to ask. "I'm perfect," Mother replies in an off-puttingly affectless tone of voice that makes me curse the day they ever cast this so-called actress in this role. "Is that blood?" the first of the boozehounds asks, pointing to the crimson smear staining her dress. "I suppose it is," Mother shrugs by way of reply, and I'll not be ranting about how much this actress's line delivery sucks at the moment because I fear dear Raoul is growing restless, and we are so, so very close to the gratifying viciousness I promised him two paragraphs ago. "Hurry, you foolish little man!" See what I mean? "CHOP-CHOP!"
"You sure you're all right?" the first of the boozehounds squints through his Bieberbangs, and Mother takes this expression of concern as an invitation to sidle on up to him and plant a great big sloppy wet one on his understandably surprised lips. A series of sickly red lines promptly explodes backwards from his mouth to wash up across his face before disappearing down his neck, and the first of the boozehounds sits there, stunned, as Mother nonchalantly abandons him to continue her trek towards the back of the bar. The first of the boozehounds soon lets his head drop forward into his chest, and as he descends into some sort of seizure, his companion calls out, "Hey! What the hell?" "I gave him a gift!" Mother calls back, never once breaking her stride, and as the first of the boozehounds continues to jerk around in the dim blurry background of the shot, Mother reaches out to cup an unsuspecting brunette's chin in her hand. Sickly red lines sprout up from the brunette's jaw line while the second of the boozehounds tries to haul his still-shuddering friend to the latter's feet, and as Mother stretches her arm to touch yet another young woman, the first of the boozehounds... suddenly bolts upright and tackles his companion to the ground! "VIOLENCE!" For her part, the infected brunette takes a flying leap at a startled businessman, and the other young woman flattens a bruiser twice her size against the pool table. "VIOLENCE!" All three of Mother's pets immediately start gnawing away at their respective victims' throats while Mother herself swipes someone's Mai Tai and settles onto a stool in the far corner to point and laugh at all the fun. "ATTA GIRL!" About half the other patrons race for the barricaded front doors, where they quickly twist themselves up into a heaving, panicky knot of screaming heads and desperately clawing hands while the initial three victims eventually slacken against the filthy floor with gaping wounds at their throats. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Mother's pets immediately lunge for fresh victims -- the brunette most impressively stripping one strapping gent from the frenzied pack at the doors to toss him halfway across the bar before jumping on top of him -- and as they tear through the throats of these new victims, the initial three suddenly roar back to life where they fell to attack the remaining patrons, and this chaotic, mindless horror sweeps through the room like a virus while Mother quietly sips her Mai Tai and Errol Brown wails at us about miracles and...
...Tinkle, Tinkle RAAAWWWR! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I told you it was worth it. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Have you anything to add? "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I guess not. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I gotta say, though, that this was the best pre-credits sequence they've featured in months. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I take it you agree with me. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Okay, I can't wait for you to calm down, so do you mind if I forge ahead without you for a bit? "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Wonderful.
Deep within The Lush Coastal Rainforests of Southeastern South Dakota, Dashing El Deano sits at a workbench in the Emporium basement, prepping five shotgun shells with last week's phoenix ash. Eventually, Darling Sammy arrives from above with the boys' hirsute host, and Dean admits he had "a little mishap" with the ash mere moments ago that has led him to question the stuff's efficacy. To demonstrate, he scoops a bit of it up in his fingers and rubs it into the skin on his forearm, grumping, "This stuff is supposed to burn t
he bejesus out of Eve, and it doesn't even give me sunburn?" Sam quickly argues that the ash might function the same way as iron or silver does -- you know, harmless to humans, but deadly to everything else -- but this does little to quell Dean's newfound fears, especially because they still don't know where Mother's been hanging out as of late. Bobby suggests they give My Sweet Baboo a ring, as Castiel might be able to track her with his Heavenly Whatever, and both Bobby and Sam proceed to stare expectantly at Dean. "Why does it always gotta be me who makes the call, huh?" Dean complains before protesting, "It's not like [Castiel] lives in my ass!" On cue, My Sweet Baboo flutters in directly behind Dean, who yelps and leaps away from his angelic boyfriend with a petulant, "Get out of my ass!" "I was never in your..." Castiel begins before letting the sentence trail off, and the two eye each other a bit -- dare I say it? -- ruefully for a very long moment. "AWWWWK-WAAAARD!" trills Raoul, by now thoroughly recovered from the sheer awesomeness of the opening sequence, and that is quite the astute observation on your part, my scaly friend. "Thanks!" Unfortunately, we've a lot of exposition to cover, so might I plow through it? "Well! Someone's got to plow something, and as that darling little man in the trench coat seems most unwilling to do so, it might as well be you!" Don't tease My Sweet Baboo, Raoul. "Hee!"
So, where was I? Oh, yes: Castiel reluctantly admits neither he nor any of his angelic brethren are able to locate Mother at the moment, so Super-Smart Sammy suggests they summon a sympathetic beastie to the Emporium for an assist. Surprisingly enough, the others quickly agree to this plan, and the thing we know, Castiel's fluttered out and back in again with Lenore, the doe-eyed cow-sucking vampire from Season Two. "Who?!" Exactly, Raoul. Lenore glances around at her new and entirely unexpected surroundings, then bolts in a panic towards the cellar's depths, stopping only when she realizes she's trapped. She turns her grimy, haggard face to Our Intrepid Heroes and stares at them in silence until Dean carefully steps forward to ask if she remembers them. "I remember," she admits, all skittish and such before reminding them, "Your hunter friend almost killed me." "If it makes you feel any better," Sam offers, "he turned into a vampire, and I chopped his head off." "With razor wire!" Dean emphasizes, grinning as he adds, "Wicked!" "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" shrieks Raoul, all but swooning at the mere thought of that particular scene, and your faithful recapper and his faithful recapping companion take a moment to reminisce fondly over the awesomeness of seasons past. "That was beautiful!" True, but my favorite is still that security guard getting his head chopped off in the elevator. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Unless my favorite's that monster Bobby ran through his neighbor's industrial-strength woodchipper. "AAAI-EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Sigh. Memories! "[Sniff!] I'm getting a little emotional!" As am I, Raoul. As am I.
Okay, that's enough of that. "Rats!" Don't worry, hon -- I'm happy to say we have yet to hit our quota of violence and gore for this evening, so hold tight while we deal with Lenore, okay? "Okay!" So, the cow-sucker quite reasonably wonders why they had Castiel haul her undead ass all the way over to the Emporium, and Sam and Dean explain the whole Mother sitch. Lenore's not happy about that in the least, because she's been doing her best to avoid Eve for the last several months. The other members of her little teetotaling coven, you see, fled shortly after Mother rose from Purgatory, because Eve almost immediately started broadcasting a series of messages directly into her spawn's brains, quickly driving Lenore's lessers to drink. Lenore herself hasn't been entirely immune to Mother's insistent imprecations, and in fact recently found herself chowing down on some hapless sixteen-year-old she managed to lure into the hovel she'd been hiding out in, but Our Intrepid Heroes don't care so much about that as they do about the psychic connection Mother's established with her offspring. Does this mean Lenore knows where Eve is at this very moment? It does, and it also means Mother's likely eavesdropping on their conversation. "I might as well be a video camera!" Lenore moans. Bobby correctly notes this robs the gang of the element of surprise, but they vow to carry on as planned, anyway, and after Sam blurts out a bit of asinine psychobabble I'll not be bothering to transcribe, Lenore drops a dime on Mother's current coordinates: Grants Pass, Oregon.
"And now she knows you're coming," Lenore glooms. The boys plus Bobby and Castiel don't care, and the four make moves to leave before Lenore calls out, "Hold on! I didn't tell you this out of the goodness of my heart -- I need something." "What?" Sam bites. "Kill me!" Lenore pleads. She can't go on living with herself because of the voices in her head and wah, and Sam and Dean insist they can lock her in the panic room until Mother's been neutralized and blah, and I can feel Raoul slipping rapidly into a Coma Of Boredom and gah, so it's really quite fortunate that My Sweet Baboo steps forward at this juncture to sear the addled brain straight out of Lenore's filthy skull. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Castiel quietly places a hand on the back of Lenore's head, and instantly, a brilliant white light shoots first from her eyes before burning its way out of every single hole in her head, even going so far as to incinerate her cheeks. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" It's incredibly disgusting, and by that I mean it's one of the best death effects they've featured all season long. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" And when it's over, what's left of Lenore drops to the concrete, dead, with streams of My Sweet Baboo's holy smoke still drifting up from the scorched gash that used to be her face. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Sam and Dean gape at Castiel all, "The hell you do that for?" "We needed to move this along," My Sweet Baboo benignly replies. Ha!
Moments later, Our Intrepid Heroes plus Bobby arrive in Grants Pass thanks to my man Castiel's mad fluttering skillz. They spend their first few moments in town taking in the seeming normalcy of various random Oregonians going about their daily business until Dean remarks, "Well. I was expecting more Zombieland and less Pleasantville." "Just because it looks quiet," Bobby warns, "don't mean it is -- especially if she's got a clue we're coming." "I'm gonna need a computer," Bobby notes, so the four traipse off to...
..."Ervin's Diner," where they crowd themselves into a window booth while Bobby futzes around with someone's iPad. Eventually, he cracks the local constabulary's database but unfortunately finds nothing out of the ordinary, so Castiel volunteers to "search the town." After checking to make sure no one's looking at them, he closes his eyes and...nothing happens. D'OH! "We can still see you," Dean duhs. "Yeah, I'm still here," My Sweet Baboo unnecessarily confirms. Heh. Castiel takes another moment, then closes his eyes once again and thinks real hard. "Now it just looks like you're pooping," Dean observes. Castiel realizes something's gone horribly wrong, and after much banging of heads together, the four decide that Mother must be blocking My Sweet Baboo's angelic mojo. "Well, that's great," Dean grumps, "because without your power, you're basically a baby in a trench coat!" Castiel gives his earthbound boyfriend A Look, then averts his eyes out the window in something I'm going to go ahead and call a snit. "I think you hurt his feelings," Sam whispers, and Dean rather amusingly makes this helpless "Buh!" face until Bobby announces he might have a lead. He's landed on The Center For Disease Control's "Undiagnosed Diseases Weekly Report," which contains news of a call the agency received "last night" from a certain "Doctor Silver" there in town regarding a mysterious ailment afflicting "a twenty-five-year-old African-American named Ed Bright." Bobby pulls up a copy of Mr. Bright's driver's license, and it's Douchetard Number One from the very top of the hour. DUN! General bitchery ensues from Dean's corner of the booth regarding the weakness of the lead, but as it's all they have to go on at the moment, we're soon following along as Dean and Castiel...
...drop by the good Doctor Silver's offices, where they find his assistant already leaving for the day. Seems the good doctor never showed up for work that morning, and as he never bothered to call in, either, his exceedingly helpful assistant doesn't quite know what else to do. With Dean's suspicions thus aroused, he and My Sweet Baboo duck around to the service entrance out back, and as Dean attempts to pick the lock, he notices several splotches of blood befouling the decorative brickwork on the adjacent patio. Dean wastes little time breaking into the office's storage shed, and as he barges in, he nearly trips right over...the rotting corpse of Douchetard Number One! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" This episode is just all kinds of fun for you, isn't it, Raoul? "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself. In any event, Douchetard Number One died with his eyes open, likely because his eyelids had already fallen off in fetid strips from his face. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Half the skin's gone from his forehead, as well, and what little there is left appears to be, well, suppurating. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE! Oh, this is simply delightful!" That's one word for it, hon. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" "What kind of doctor calls the CDC, and then stashes the gooey corpse in his shed?" Dean grumps. My Sweet Baboo hasn't a clue, of course, so the two duck out in search of some kerosene for what I hope are obvious reasons while we jump over to...
...Chez Silver just in time to catch Sam and Bobby descending from the porch, fresh from ransacking the place. By the by, Bobby's toting a purloined photograph of the good doctor and his family, which includes a wife and two adolescent-ish boys. Just so you know. And right when they're about to hop into their stolen car to hook up with Dean and Castiel on the other side of town, the local sheriff pulls his prowler over to the curb and disembarks to wonder what gives. Bobby and Sam whip out some fake FBI IDs, and Sam LIES that they were on a case a couple of towns over when headquarters phoned to send them to the Silvers'. The local sheriff hopes it's nothing serious, and Bobby is sad to note that it probably is -- the good doctor and his entire family have apparently gone missing. In a successful attempt to extricate himself from this unnecessary conversation as quickly as possible, Bobby suggests the sheriff put out an APB on the family, after which Bobby and Sam will join the sheriff down at the station to "compare notes." The sheriff happily agrees to this plan, leaving Bobby and Sam free to motor off to...
...The Dead Douchetard's dilapidated frat house, where they find Dean and his angelic boyfriend already casing the joint from the other side of the street. Our Intrepid Heroes briefly compare notes, then decide to head inside to question The Dead Douchetard's roommates. Of course, there's a problem: "Does Ed Bright have a brother?" My Sweet Baboo wonders. "No," Bobby gruffs. "Why?" "Then that's not his twin?" Castiel asks, hitching his head in the general direction of the frat house. The boys plus Bobby look across the street, where they spot an exact replica of The Dead Douchetard banging his rapidly deteriorating body against the house's bay windows from within. DUN! "'Shifter?" Sam uneasily guesses. "I don't know what we're looking at!" Bobby unhelpfully exasperates, so it's left to Our Intrepid Heroes to investigate.
Dean kicks in the front door, and he and his brother make with the Tough-Guy Jazz-Hands through the frat house foyer until they turn a corner to find...five Dead Douchedoubles strewn about the floor in various states of decay! Dun-dun-DUN! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" That, too. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Sam and Dean gaze with horror and dismay and such until they vanish into this evening's first CHOMP!-less commercial break.
Den Of The Douchedoubles. Immediate aftermath. One of the Douchedoubles is actually still alive -- barely -- so Our Intrepid Heroes rush to his side to pepper him with questions, and long story short, this Douchedouble is actually Douchetard Number Two from the top of the hour, and while neither he nor Our Intrepid Heroes know what happened to him at this point, the audience can easily surmise that Mother infected the first Douchetard with something he subsequently passed on to his fraternity brothers, all of whom morphed into carbon copies of Mr. Bright before dropping dead when every single organ system in their bodies decided to liquefy. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" And then the Douchedouble dies. Fortunately, he did manage to choke out enough information to send the boys plus Bobby and Castiel on their mission to...
...The 8TH STREET SPORTS LOUNGE. The quartet bangs through the busted front doors to find the place littered with mangled, bloody corpses, and you'll have to excuse me while I pause for a moment, as I believe Raoul has something to add. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Feel better, hon? "Much, thanks!" Excellent. The gang splits up to poke and prod at the various dead patrons, with Dean quickly discovering both fangs and a wrist-spike on the battered and broken pre-credits brunette, much to his loud confusion. You see, fangs alone would indicate they're dealing with vampires, while that wrist-spike points towards wraiths, and no one present can ever recall finding both features on a single monster. "So, Eve's making hybrids now?" Dean peeves. "Looks like," Bobby shrugs, though neither of them of course can figure out why Mother's concocting these strange new creatures. The good news is, because Dean was the first to discover these vampy wraiths, he gets to name them. His choice? "Jefferson Starships." And why that particular moniker, I'm sure I hear you ask? "Because they're horrible, and hard to kill." Heh. I absolutely cannot argue with his logic, especially given both the mere existence of this piece of horrific crap and the fact that the fiends responsible for it are somehow inexplicably still on tour.
Of course, this still leaves the question of why all these freshly minted Jefferson Starships dropped dead, anyway, so Bobby arbitrarily decides they all "burned up" "from high fever," and we'll go with that, because it is so not worth arguing about it at this point. Meanwhile, the sheriff's arrived with several of his deputies, and they promptly place everyone present and not currently dead under arrest. Quite fortuitously, Dean had chosen to duck down behind the bar right before the long arm of the law made itself known, so he gets to crouch beside a leaky corpse while Bobby, Sam, and My Sweet Baboo get slung into handcuffs and escorted over to...
...the Grants Pass police station. And as the sheriff and his deputies hustle their prisoners back towards the holding cells, Sam happens to glance up at a monitor displaying a closed-circuit feed of the station's entranceway, and wouldn't you know it? The feed reveals the sheriff and his deputies all have unnaturally glowing eyes. Who'd have guessed it? "Oooh! Oooh!" I take it from the way you're frantically waving that perfectly manicured paw of yours around in the air that you'd like to answer my question, Raoul? "I would indeed! [A-him!] Moi, perchance?!" Yeah, vous and me both, you dizzy lizard, along with everybody else in this show's rapidly dwindling audience. Now, might I continue? We're nowhere near done with this episode's blood and guts for the evening. "Oh, by all means, then!" Thanks.
Now, where the hell was I, again? Oh, yeah: Sam spots his captors' unnaturally glowing eyes in the video monitor, so he immediately jerks that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of his backwards to head-butt the deputy who'd been shoving him along. "Jefferson Starships!" he screams, kicking one of the beasts in question in the teeth, and generalized pandemonium erupts in the station house until Dashing El Deano pops up from out of nowhere with a machete in his hand, and SPLAT! Deputy The First immediately finds himself missing most of his head, and what remains of his lower jaw and neck is now spraying blood across My Sweet Baboo's chest. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" hoots Raoul as he excitedly pounds his tail against the floorboards with joy, and I might have to give this episode an A based on the spectacular body count alone. In any event, Castiel swipes the machete from Dean and quickly dispatches Deputy The Second. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Yeah, it'll probably be an A. Dean's about to take out the sheriff himself when Sam bellows for him to hold off, for reasons which shall soon become apparent.
Moments later, we enter the station's interrogation room to find the sheriff firmly lashed to a chair with several lengths of chain. Bobby snarls a series of rather boring questions and observations at the thing while Sam, Dean, and My Sweet Baboo look on from the other side of a two-way mirror until forest noises emanate from somewhere deep within the station's cell block. Sam and Dean quickly abandon the interrogation in favor of Tough-Guy Jazz-Handing their collective way to the back hall, where they find...Doctor Silver's sons! DZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz! "Oh, why did they have to inject something so dreary as children into this otherwise thrilling little installment of our lighthearted Friday-evening divertissement!? WHY?!" To kill them off at the end of the episode? "Hooray!" That's just a guess, though -- I could be totally wrong. "Drat!" Though given the way this episode's going, it would not surprise me at all if Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Castiel are the only ones left standing once it's over. "Whee!" I share your enthusiasm, friend of friends, but I'm afraid I must press forward to this evening's burst of utterly senseless and utterly awesome violence -- you don't mind, do you? "Of course not!" Good.
So, Sam and Dean stumble across Doctor Silver's sons, who for the purposes of this recap shall be known as Imminent Corpse One and Imminent Corpse Two. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" They're presently trussed up in one of the cells and, after Our Intrepid Heroes free them, one of The Imminent Corpses relates their shared tale of woe, which involves the sheriff and his deputies, like, eating their parents before placing The Imminent Corpses on ice, as it were, for snacking purposes later. "Delicious!" The Imminent Corpses have an uncle in a neighboring town, and Dean foolishly vows to deliver The Imminent Corpses to their sole surviving relative after first performing a series of never-specified tests to ensure The Imminent Corpses are not, in fact, Jefferson Starships themselves. Got all that? "I do!" Good, because I don't want to watch that goddamned scene again. Stupid kids ruin everything! !
Meanwhile, back in the interrogation room, Bobby's having absolutely no luck beating a confession out of the sheriff, so it doesn't really matter much when Our Intrepid Heroes interrupt the proceedings to inform My Sweet Baboo of their plans to escort The Imminent Corpses over to Rogue River or Applegate or wherever. Castiel, because he is not an idiot, thinks this is an awful idea, and upbraids Dean for putting the needs of these few Imminent Corpses over the needs of the hundreds of thousands of people Mother's apparently intent on slaughtering. Dean, alas, no longer goes for that touchy-feely self-help "Greater Purposes" crap, bitch, so he and Sam gather up The Imminent Corpses and flounce on out to their car. My Sweet Baboo pouts. Awwwwwww!
There follows a tedious nighttime driving sequence that does not involve the Impala, so I'll be ignoring it. !
Back in Grants Pass, Castiel broods rather prettily all by his lonesome behind a Venetian blind until Bobby tiptoes up behind him to dispense with an entirely unnecessary pep-talk. My Sweet Baboo responds to Bobby's feeble attempts at cheering him up with an adorable amount of bitchiness that only makes me love him more. Sigh. And after about a minute of this, My Badass Baboo retreats to the interrogation room to beat that hybrid freak of a sheriff until that hybrid freak of a sheriff gifts them with Mother's current coordinates.
First, however, we must hop over to Gold Hill or Eagle Point or wherever to watch as Our Intrepid Heroes reunite The Imminent Corpses with their soon-to-be-dead uncle. "Demian! Spoiler!" Oh, it's just a hunch. "Hee! Hooray!" Is this scene over yet? "It is!" Good. !
Station House. My Sweet Baboo politely asks for five minutes alone with their prisoner, despite the fact that -- as Bobby puts it -- his "batteries are dead." Bobby cordially retreats to the outer room to leave Castiel to his business, and one strangled off-screen shout of sheer agony later, My Badass Baboo is emerging from the interrogation room with bits of the sheriff's viscera coating his sweet little hands. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" "He said 25 Buckley Street," Castiel states, casually wiping the grue from his hands with a moist towelette. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" That's what I was gonna say, Raoul! "Hee!" Bobby quietly freaks himself all the way into this evening's first METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Back from the break, Dean eyes the sheriff's now-headless corpse -- "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" -- through the two-way mirror for a bit before turning to his fellows and distributing four of the ash-enhanced shotgun shells he banged together all those many scenes ago. Moments later, the quartet is approaching 25 Buckley Street, and it's...Ervin's Diner, where they just had breakfast! D'OH! "She's been in there this entire time?" Dean squeals, outraged. Sam wonders why she ever allowed them in -- or out, for that matter -- in the first place, while Bobby questions the sanity of entering so strategically disadvantageous a location. Dean quickly proposes he and Sam head into the diner to draw Mother out into the others' line of fire, and while Bobby makes with the expected whining about how stupid Dean's plan is, he has little choice but to loiter there under that streetlight with My Sweet Baboo while Our Intrepid Heroes stride purposefully across the street with a satchel filled with their various implements of demonic destruction. "Well, at least it ain't complicated," Bobby sighs, for no particular reason at all. !
Diner Interior. Sam and Dean enter, warily eye the ten patrons and two staff members arrayed in various positions around the joint, and seat themselves at the counter. Sam whips out his trusty Blackberry or Android or iPhone or whatever it is and surreptitiously sweeps the thing's video camera around the room. Of course, every single damn local in the place has unnaturally glowing eyes, so Our Intrepid Heroes are pretty much fucked. "Let's get the hell out of here," Dean whispers once Sam has confirmed they're the only two present who are not flesh-eating monsters. Unfortunately, as they rise to go, the waitress places a couple of platters in front of them, and the waitress is Mother. The instant she's revealed herself, an array of her obedient Starship underlings rise from their seats to secure the diner's windows and doors, blocking the view inside from across the street, where Bobby and Castiel have the unmitigated gall to fret at this entirely unexpected development.
, the largest of Mother's obedient Starship underlings retrieves Dean's Duffel Of Doom from the floor and presents its contents to Eve. "Phoenix ash?" she asks after getting a whiff of one of the cartridges. "I'm impressed -- I bet you had to go a long way for that." "You have no idea," Dean sighs as Sam allows himself a doleful little chuckle. Mother instructs the largest of her underlings to destroy the boys' weapons immediately, and once the underling's vanished into the diner's kitchen to do so, she settles herself in for a little chat with Our Intrepid Heroes. Mother urges them to relax -- she's not there for a fight, after all -- and she refuses to rise to Dean's snarled bait about her supposed intentions, even when he openly mocks her for relying upon such déclassé beasties as "those half-assed Spider-Men" and -- get ready for this -- "Dragons." "What's that?!" Raoul shrieks, his sharp little ears pricking up. "Is that charming little bow-legged midget-man referring to me!?" I believe he is, Raoul. "Hmph! Well, I never! You try to be nice to some people during those interminable hours on the set -- divert them with a few harmless little games -- and this is how they repay you! Is there no justice in this world?! Hmmm!?" Well, I can't really... "HMMM?!" I suppose not, my scaly friend. Now, don't you think it best that I hurry along past this unpleasantness so we might enjoy whatever violence this evening has left to offer? "Oh, indeed! Especially if even a tiny little bit of that violence is directed against that...! That...! That ingrate!" We can but hope, Raoul.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes: This evening's Talky Bits. Yep, now that she's got herself a captive audience, Mother -- who'd been damn near monosyllabic during her appearances on this show -- decides she absolutely must speechify at length until Sam and Dean have been bored to death, along with whatever remains of this inexplicably renewed show's rapidly dwindling audience. Long, long, l-o-o-o-o-o-o-n-g story short, Mother did not rise from Purgatory intent upon destroying the planet. In fact, she was quite happy with the natural order as it had stood for eons, wherein a few of her offspring turned the occasional human being while the occasional human being took out a few of her offspring. That all changed, however, when Crowley started kidnapping Mother's spawn to torture them in his abandoned insane asylum.
At this point, Eve morphs up into Burnt Mary form -- just for shits and giggles, I suppose -- and while Samantha Smith certainly is far more entertaining to watch in the role than poor Julia Maxwell could ever hope to be, she's still stuck delivering this ungainly exposition dump for the audience's supposed benefit, so sorry, Burnt Mary, but I'm going to be skimming through your Talky Bits as well. "Kisses!"
Mother Mary insists she only wants Crowley dead -- for what he's done to her children, of course -- and when Dean snots back that the "little limey mook" in question "roasted months ago," Mother Mary's forced to reveal that Crowley actually still walks among us. Consternation abounds, of course, and then we get an even bigger exposition dump: The whole thing's about the souls. As you'll recall from the last couple of episodes, souls equal power for whomever happens to own them, and Crowley's apparently attempting to assume control of Purgatory in order to "siphon off" Mother Mary's supply of the things. Just go with it. And maybe think of this scene while you're doing so. You're welcome.
So, anyway, how has she decided to fight back? By turning every human being on the planet into one of her children (which, by the way, ties in to various monsters' claims earlier in the season about amassing armies, if anyone can remember that far back at this point). The experiments she's been conducting in Grants Pass -- the infectious but ultimately too-watery shapeshifters, the initial vampire-ghoul hybrids whose brains fried from the inside out, the ultimately successful Jefferson Starships -- were all geared towards that end. She needed a new sort of offspring that could inconspicuously propagate itself through an entire town's population in less than a day while also remaining shielded from your typical hunter's tests, and she succeeded. In fact, Sam and Dean have been tooling around with one of her new, improved creations all day -- Imminent Corpse One! Or maybe it was Imminent Corpse Two. I have no idea. "I'm bored!" How the hell do you think I feel, lizard?
Fortunately -- and almost as if it anticipated our desperate need at the moment -- the camera leaps over to Cave Junction or Wilderville or wherever to follow along as Soon-To-Be-Dead Uncle wanders into his living room to find...Imminent Corpse One, sprawled across the carpeting in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Soon-To-Be-Dead Uncle spins around to dial 9-1-1, only to find his path blocked by...Imminent Corpse Two, whose mouth is coated with pieces of his brother's neck! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" And then Imminent Corpse One's menacing Soon-To-Be-Dead Uncle from the other side! "VIOLENCE!" The Imminent Corpses leap up to tackle Soon-To-Be-Dead Uncle to the floor, and as the camera discreetly pans away from the impending carnage to take in a tasteful set of family photographs on the mantel, a fresh gout of arterial spray erupts from Soon-To-Be-Dead Uncle's neck to paint this evening's METAL TEETH CHOMP! red. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Diner. Aftermath. MORE TALKING. So, let's wrap this up: Long story short, Mother Mary proposes the boys work for her to rid the world of Crowley once and for all, and the boys tell Mother Mary to go blow. Mother Mary does not take kindly to their suggestion at all, and has a couple of her obedient Starship underlings muscle Bobby and My Sweet Baboo in from the street to make threats against their lives. Dean nevertheless adamantly insists he'll not be working for the likes of her anytime soon, so Mother Mary proposes she turn them, which means they'll all be working for her, anyway. "Beat me with a wire hanger," Dean snorts, "the answer's still no." Mother Mary immediately latches onto his neck to start sucking -- "'Start'?! Hee!" -- and that's a very bad move on Mother Mary's part, indeed, for at some point in the last fifteen interminable minutes or so, Dean had tipped the contents of the last phoenix-ash cartridge into a shot of whiskey and gulped the foul mixture down, so now his blood is loaded with the one substance on the planet that can kill her. D'OH!
Mother Mary gets barely a mouthful of Dean's blood before reeling back away from him, gagging, and as Dean outlines the details of his cunning plan, a brilliant white light erupts somewhere deep within Mother Mary's rib cage to illuminate her skeleton from within. And in a nifty little effects touch I didn't notice until I happened to pause on it, Mother Mary's eyebrows shoot up into fiendish arches as she shoots Death Glares in Dean's general direction. I think her mouth goes all unnaturally wide at one point, as well, but I'm not going to rewind to make sure. It's subtle enough to make Samantha Smith look decidedly off during this sequence, but not so blatant that you're no longer able to recognize her as human, which happens a lot on this show. And just as streaks of bitterly black foulness erupt on her scalp to race down across her face, Mother Mary doubles over and morphs back into Eve, who chokes and gasps for air while blood begins to flow freely from every single hole in her head, and thick ropes of greenish slime start cascading down from the top of her head, and for one brief moment, Eve looks like the terrified adolescent she was before she was flung into The Pit, and then she collapses to the floor, dead.
Wow. That was pretty damn good. "I'm speechless!" Are you actually speechless, Raoul, or are you being facetious? "A little of both!" Just as I suspected.
With their Mother now out of the picture, the heretofore obedient Starship underlings go bananas, but a freshly repowered Castiel's got that one covered. He bellows for Our Intrepid Heroes plus Bobby to shut their eyes, and the instant they've complied, My Badass Baboo unleashes a terrible white light from his hands that reduces every last Starship in the diner to a smoking husk of a corpse. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Castiel heals Dean's wounds with a simple tap on the shoulder, and with that, the four flutter off to...
...Hugo or Placer or wherever to take care of The Imminent Corpses. One problem: Someone's beaten them to the punch, and The Imminent Corpses are now The Present Corpses, splayed across the basement steps with great, big sucking chest wounds still oozing blood. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" I told you everyone would be dead by the time this episode ended. "You did indeed, and it's faaaaaaab-ulous! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"Well," Dean pouts, thwarted, "who ganked them?" Sam crouches down by The Present Corpses and sweeps his hand through a line of sulphur he finds sprinkled across the floorboards. DUN! Also: This evening's final CHOMP!-less commercial break, even though we only have two minutes of actual show content left. Whatever!
White City or Medford or Wherever. Immediate Aftermath. "So, whaddya think?" Sam asks. "I think," Dean announces, "that demons don't give a crap about monster tweens unless they're told to!" Sam's all, "So, Crowley, then?" and My Devious Baboo goes, "Crowley? Who's he? I never heard about anyone named Crowley! Why are you talking about this Crowley guy, huh?" Because My Devious Baboo suh-huuuuuuucks at the LYING. In case you haven't noticed that before. "I'll look into it immediately!" Castiel promises, and with that, he flutters off, leaving Sam, Dean, and Bobby stranded out in the middle of Talent or Keno or wherever the hell they are with no way to get back to The Lush Coastal Rainforests Of Southeastern South Dakota. Sucks to be them!
Diner Of Death. A 45 clicks into place on the jukebox, and as the vaguely psychedelic opening bars of Jefferson Starship's "Miracles" emanate from the jukebox speakers, the camera leaps across the room for a low, wide angle of Castiel standing alone among the corpses. And I must admit, clever as it is for them to end this episode with a Jefferson Starship song, it was even more clever of them to open it with a song that swears, "I believe in miracles!" while closing it with one that sighs, "If only you believe in miracles, so would I." Remember when they used to pull shit like this all the time on this show? "I do not!" Only because you have a brain the size of a walnut, you dizzy lizard. "Hey!"
The camera roars forward, angling itself around the various corpses on the floor, and as it reaches My Sweet Baboo, Crowley himself calls out, "Really, Castiel, this is getting ridiculous." Dun-dun-DUN! "How many times am I going to have to clean up your messes?" Crowley mildly wonders, and the camera gets all up in My Devious Baboo's steely-eyed grille for a moment before we cut abruptly to black.
I enjoyed that far more than I thought I would. "So did I!" I still think the seventh season's going to suck, though. "So do I!" Care to handle week's promo? "No!" Shit.
So, week's apparently devoted to Castiel's season-long backstory, and will apparently explain this episode's supposedly massive twist. I think. As long as they leave that Jimmy Novak moron out of it, it might be okay. Maybe. See you then! "Kisses!"
Demian is inordinately impressed by episodes with huge body counts. Raoul's just happy they referenced Mommie Dearest. "My babies! Someone stole BOTH my babies! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" You may reach the former at demian_twop@yahoo.com. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.
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