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The episode opens with a flashback to the last night of H. P. Lovecraft's life way back in 1937, and if you thought he died from intestinal cancer, Supernatural is here to prove you wrong, unless "intestinal cancer" is code for "getting his lungs ripped out through his nose by some unknown Purgatorial beastie." As we learn over the course of the episode thanks to Bobby's diligent investigation of the matter, it seems Lovecraft held a special sort of séance five days before he died with six of his closest friends, and they somehow managed to open a portal to Purgatory. Only one beastie fell out of the thing while the ceremony was going on, but that beastie possessed Lovecraft's housekeeper, and we're meant to believe the Purgatorially-enhanced lady then went on to slaughter the author and all of his friends over the course of the several months.
And why, you ask, would she do such a thing? Because, as it turns out, she finds eternal life on Earth far preferable to her existence, and she's determined not to let anyone else ever open that portal to Purgatory again. And how do we know this? Because Lovecraft's possessed housekeeper is actually that professor with the dragon-slaying sword we last saw five months ago. Bet you didn't see that one coming, did you? In any event, Bobby warns the good Doctor Visyak -- and yes, I had to look that up -- to watch her back because both Castiel and Crowley are hot on her trail, so of course the good Doctor Visyak gets herself kidnapped by My Sweet Baboo right as the episode ends. D'OH!
In other news, Crowley and a couple of his henchdemons barge into Bendy Estates to abscond with Lisa and The Brat, mainly to use them as leverage against Dashing El Deano. With a little help from both Castiel and Balthazar, Dean invades Crowley's lair to rescue his ex-girlfriend and maybe-son, but only after the snarling demonette inside Bendy Lisa's body stabs itself in Bendy Lisa's gut with a chisel. A supposedly tense race to the hospital follows, and things are not looking so good for everyone's favorite yoga instructor when Castiel flutters in both to heal her and -- at Dean's request, I should note -- to erase all memory of the Winchesters and things that go bump in the night from her brain. (My Sweet Baboo pulls a mind-wipe on The Brat, as well, but it's Bendy Lisa we're meant to care about. I think.) And in the end, Dean gets all weepy in the Impala while Sam flusters around helplessly at his side, and it's all as dull as I'm making it sound.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Rattle, Rattle Tacky Blue Glitter THEN! Bendy Lisa and The Brat broke up with Batshit El Deano, like, eighteen years ago, and then Bobby sent Dean to meet with Doctor Visyak, a Medieval Studies professor at "San Francisco University" who let him touch her sword. Meanwhile, it turns out My Sweet Baboo's been secretly working with Crowley all season long to open a portal into Purgatory so the two might feast on the beastie souls they find therein, so Dreary El Deano broke up with Castiel two weeks ago. Got all that? "I do!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, who for once has prestocked his cunning little drinks cart with hundreds of soothing flagons well in advance of this episode's start, for he knows we're in for a very, very long night. "How ever shall we endure it, I wonder?! [Slurp!]" Oh, I think you've got a handle on that one -- just be sure to pace yourself, doll. "Hee!" Are we ready for this? "We are not!" Too bad. Hit it!
Rattle, Rattle Tacky Blue Glitter NOW!, and once again, the Tacky Blue Glitter NOW! is a LYING LIAR WHO LIES, for no sooner has it vanished from the screen than a little card appears to inform us we've landed in Providence, Rhode Island on a dark and stormy March 15th, 1937. As the camera begins its slow pan through a well-appointed study, we can hear the sounds of someone furiously pounding away on a typewriter somewhere just off-screen, and as a particularly punishing thunderstorm continues to rage away in the night outside, the camera eventually lands on the bespectacled gent responsible for all the clattering racket over at the study's massive desk. To be honest with you, he's a pretty fast and remarkably accurate typist, despite the fact that he appears to be using only his index fingers. We should also probably take into consideration the additional fact that he's slugging back bourbon like they're about to reinstate Prohibition in the morning. "Atta girl! [Slurp!]" The bespectacled gent types and types and types some more until he finally taps out "THE END" in bold black letters, and as he arranges the pages of his manuscript on his blotter, the study door slowly creaks open, seemingly of its own accord. DUN! The dim lights surrounding him buzz and blink and flicker on and off, and while that might be attributable to the electrical storm raging on the other side of his windows at the moment, it's probably because a foul and noisome beastie has just invaded his home, for when the bespectacled gent calls out, "Hello?" he receives nothing but an ominous silence by way of reply. Dun-dun-DUN!
The bespectacled gent carefully reaches into one of the desk's drawers and pulls out a loaded revolver before slowly crossing to the other side of the room, where he shuts and locks the door. With trembling hands, he pours himself another slug of bourbon and is just about to take a sip when...the window behind him bursts inwards in glittering spray of splinters and shards! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" A dark figure with seemingly small hands has landed upon the bespectacled gent's carpet, and it now slowly advances upon him while he just as slowly backs away, mewling, "Please!" the entire time. "We didn't know!" the bespectacled gent insists. "I'm sorry!" he pleads, fumbling up against his desk, in the process knocking his manuscript to the floor. "Glaalaaalaaagh!" he gurgles as The Visitor apparently rips out his throat, and a fresh spurt of blood paints the manuscript pages red as the bespectacled gent keels over, dead. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" The camera lingers for a moment on the manuscript's blood-soaked cover page, and it appears to be a little tale called "The Haunter Of The Dark" by one H. P. Lovecraft. "Hack!" shrieks Raoul, pointing an accusatory yet exquisitely honed claw at the television screen, and as I have no desire whatsoever to read anything by that particular author, ever, I will accept your assessment of his merits without question, friend of friends, and move on to the...
...Tinkle, Tinkle RAAAWWWR! "Well!" shrieks Raoul once again. "Thank heavens they dispatched with that...that trifler before the episode proper!" Bad blood between you two? "Oh, my word, that man was positively beastly! Ill-mannered, and rude like you would not believe! Why, once when I was summering at...!" You know, I'm going to stop you right there, because I think you're on the verge of revealing a bit too much about yourself, if you know what I mean. "Mercy! My eternal gratitude, I'm sure!" No problem, friend of friends. Oh, and hey -- that shot of the blood-spattered manuscript reminded me of an old joke. "Do share!" Well, it seems pretty stupid, now. "I insist!" Okay, fine: What's black and white and red all over? "Oooh! Oooh! A nun with a spear through her head?!" Wow. That's way better than the answer I was thinking of. "Hooray! [Slurp!]"
Deep within the lush coastal rainforests of southeastern South Dakota, Our Intrepid Heroes sit across from each other in The Emporium's study, paging through a variety of ancient texts while chit-chatting about Dean's recent breakup with his Heavenly boyfriend, with Dean at one point wondering aloud why My Sweet Baboo even bothered to flutter on over for their last tête-à-tête in the first place. Bobby soon enters with the answer to that: One of the journals they swiped from The Campbell Family Archives is missing. Turns out Moishe Campbell -- of "the New York Campbells," by the way, for those of you who appreciate a dose of vaguely offensive ethnic humor with your Supernatural season finales -- was a contemporary of Raoul's ill-mannered nemesis, so it's quite a good thing that "paranoid bastard" Bobby xeroxed a copy of the guy's diary before Castiel swooped in and stole it. Bobby's even identified an entry relevant to this evening's primary plotline, in which Moishe tells of an impromptu visit to Providence, where he discussed "the events of March 10th" with "Howard Phillips," "Howard Phillips" of course being the first and middle names of the rude and trifling scourge who evidently ruined one of Raoul's long-ago vacations. "Horrible man! [Slurp!]" Naturally, Dim Dean has no idea who Lovecraft is, because he was "too busy having sex with women," but Studious Sam's quite excited about the whole thing, and becomes even more so when Bobby reminds him that Lovecraft's oeuvre frequently dealt with "opening doors to other dimensions and lettin' scary crap through." Like I said before: Never read the guy, never will, so if that's a mischaracterization of his work, scream at somebody who cares. Are we done here? "I think we are!" Excellent.
Bendy Estates. The Brat lounges on his bed, listening to something indecipherable on his iPod while paging through a comic book entitled Cthulhu Tales. Meanwhile, Bendy Lisa and her new beau are downstairs in her tastefully appointed living room, watching a baseball game on her massive flat-screen TV when...a demonically enhanced bruiser batters down Bendy Lisa's front door! DUN! The Brat immediately whips off his iPod and creeps out onto the stairwell landing to watch as the initial intruder quickly throws Bendy Lisa into a headlock. The Beau, for his part, approaches the initial intruder with placating hand gestures, and for his trouble gets his neck snapped by the initial intruder's just-appearing sidekick. "VIOLENCE!" shrieks Raoul, now thoroughly enjoying this otherwise tedious scene. "WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT NECK-SNAPPING VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" The Brat races back upstairs to barricade himself in his bedroom, where he immediately calls Dean. The conversation goes something like this:
Dean: Hello? The Brat: AAAAAAUAUAAAUUUAAAAGH! Dean: There's a shotgun in your mom's closet! The Brat: AAAAAAUAUAAAUUUAAAAGH! Dean: Jump out the window, then, you fucking moron! The Brat: AAAAAAUAUAAAUUUAAAAGH! Dean: I'll meet you out on the lawn, even though I am 740 miles and thirteen hours away from you! The Brat: [Thunk.]
A hand reaches down to retrieve The Brat's phone from the detritus now littering his bedroom carpet, and Crowley lifts the thing to his ear to smarm, "Hullo, Dean! Fancy a chat?" just seconds before the METAL TEETH CHOMP! barges in to shove its tongue into Crowley's many, many facial pores.
Bendy Estates. Immediate aftermath. Crowley teases Our Intrepid Hero via cell and Dean responds with the expected threats and dark mutterings, and the long and the short of it is this: Crowley intends to hold Bendy Lisa and The Brat hostage until he's certain Dean and "Jolly Green" have stood down. "Kisses!" Crowley perks by way of goodbye, swiping one of Raoul's catchphrases in the process. "Hmph!" Oh, honey, it's not like you ever really owned that one. "Still!" Raoul pouts. "Hmph!" Have another sip of your cocktail, sweetie -- it'll take the edge off. "Thanks! I will! [Slurp!]" Excellent.
Now, where the hell were we? Oh, yes: Dean hangs up and shares the bad news with Bobby and Sam, the latter of whom wonders if My Sweet Baboo's involved somehow. Dean opines that they've little choice but to assume Castiel at least knows about the recent dastardly doings down at Bendy Estates, and he makes to motor to Battle Creek immediately. Sam insists upon tagging along, arguing that Bobby's perfectly capable of handling the Lovecraft research on his own, and after an excessively boring round of bickering that I'll not be bothering to transcribe, everyone splits up for the rest of the episode. You know, pretty much.
Out in The Emporium's yard, Our Intrepid Heroes watch as Bobby tools off into the night, after which they summon Balthazar, who obligingly flutters in accompanied by several shattering junkyard streetlights, as is his wont. Belthazor's his usual snippy self until Darling Sammy shouts out, "Crowley's alive!" Belthazor looks taken aback by the news for all of one hot second before he pulls himself together and nonchalantly LIES, "Well, you've been scooped! [Your adorably rumpled little boyfriend] already told me!" "Well," Dean snorts as he takes a few slow, deliberate steps to push himself all up in Belthazor's grille, "did [my adorably rumpled little ex-boyfriend] tell you he's Crowley's butt buddy?" Aw. Dean's just jealous! "Poor thing! [Slurp!] The green-eyed monster can be most debilitating, I'm sure!" Perhaps, Raoul, but Dreary El Deano, here, is at least being sort of cute about it. "Hooray! [Slurp!]" So, long story short, Our Intrepid Heroes fill Belthazor in on recent events, and Belthazor LIES that he's been in on My Sweet Baboo's grand plan the entire season, but the prodigal angel does agree to flutter off to have a chat with Dean's heavenly ex regarding Bendy Lisa and The Brat, mainly because Dean's now refusing even to speak to Castiel. Petulant bitch. "Don't give up, you charming little bandy-legged thing! [Slurp!] There are other fish in the sea! L'amour! L'AMOUR!" Volume! "Oh, I do apologize, I'm sure! I just got carried away, I suppose! Hee!"
Somewhere else, Bobby's already arrived at the home of the world's foremost Lovecraftian übergeek, "Judah," who appears to be living in his mother's basement. Go figure. There's a lot of intense and intensely boring blathering on Judah's part regarding Lovecraft's literary bona fides before the two finally sit down to chat, and it becomes apparent during the conversation that follows that Bobby's there because Judah for some reason just happens to own a mighty whack of Lovecraft's personal correspondence. At one point, Bobby mentions March 10th, 1937, and Judah starts hopping around, all excited, because Bobby's the second so-called journalist to ask about the events of that particular evening in as many days. Yep, My Sweet Baboo beat Bobby to the punch, but Bobby nevertheless soldiers on, prevailing upon Judah to tell him what he told Castiel, and basically, Lovecraft and six of his bestest buddies gathered that evening to perform a ritual they hoped would open a portal into another dimension. The ritual evidently failed, as documented in several letters Judah managed to acquire over the years, but wouldn't you know it? When Judah leaps up to fetch those letters for Bobby's perusal, he finds that they're gone. "Well," Bobby smiles tightly, rising to leave, "it's not like an invisible guy could just pop in and steal them, right?" Of course right.
Out on the street, Bobby rings up Sam, who's still lurching through The Emporium's automotive wrecks deep within the lush coastal rainforests of southeastern South Dakota. We've apparently leapt forward a bit in time, for Bobby's already had a chance to investigate Lovecraft's March 10th guest list, and he's learned that everyone invited to Lovecraft's final "hoedown" ended up dead or missing within a year of the soiree. There remains, however, one apparent eyewitness: The maid's son, who was nine years old at the time, and who is now a permanent guest in one of Rhode Island's finer insane asylums. "You got a lead on Lisa and Ben?" Bobby's polite enough to wonder. "We're making a few inquiries," Sam evasively replies, and with that, we hop inside...
...one of The Emporium's sheds, where we find Delirious El Deano jamming The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't into a demonically enhanced gentleman's chest. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" And once the screaming is done, Delirious El Deano slings the fresh corpse into his rapidly growing corpse pile over in the corner before strapping his victim into a chair that's been balanced atop a hastily spray-painted Devil's Trap. "Oh, my!" marvels Raoul, shriekily of course. "A corpse pile?! And it's so artfully lit!" It is indeed, my scaly friend. "Why, that charming little bandy-legged boy's decorating skills have just grown by leaps and bounds since first we met him, haven't they?!" You can say that, Raoul. "I just did! Hee! [Slurp!]"
Okay. Yeah, where was I, again? Oh, yes: Delirious El Deano straps a bald-headed bruiser into his Interrogatin' Chair before stepping off to bolster himself with a shot of whiskey. "Atta girl! [Slurp!]" Sam enters, and there's a hushed conversation between the two wherein Sam volunteers to tag in, thereby giving the clearly overextended Dean a bit of a breather, but Dreary El Deano gets all damp-eyed and maudlin about Bendy Lisa and The Brat, so Darling Sammy quite naturally flees.
Once more lurching through The Emporium's automotive wrecks, Darling Sammy lifts his eyes Heavenward and prays for Dean's feathery ex-boyfriend to flutter his ass down there, pronto. Castiel does not reply. Or does he? Yep, after a very long beat, the camera angle reverses to reveal Castiel standing -- silently and invisibly, of course -- right in front of Darling Sammy, and with a terribly sad look on his face, too. After My Sweet Baboo watches Darling Sammy trudge off into the distance, he flutters over to...
...Castle Crowley, where Castiel immediately berates his partner in crime for absconding with Bendy Lisa and The Brat. Crowley casually points out that while Castiel forbid him from messing with Our Intrepid Heroes, Castiel said nothing about messing with Our Intrepid Heroes' significant others, and so Crowley "merely exploited the obvious loophole" in order to keep Castiel's "fop-coiffed little heroes" off their collective back. "You should have talked to me first," Castiel seethes. "I'd rather ask forgiveness than permission," Crowley smirks. The subsequent conversation quickly descends into a shouty round of bitchy bickering, with Crowley eventually roaring something about holding on to Bendy Lisa and The Brat until My Sweet Baboo finds Purgatory. Just then, the voices in Castiel's head start screaming, so he bids Crowley a temporary farewell and flutters on over to...
...a forest clearing somewhere moist and remote, where he finds Belthazor waiting for him. Belthazor, bless him, wastes little time getting down to business by immediately demanding to know, "Are you in flagrante with The King Of Hades?" "Of course not," Castiel LIES. Belthazor calls him on it, and the two natter endlessly at each other for several very long moments during which I zone out and enjoy the scenery, and by that I mean I enjoy the actual scenery around them, for this damp glade with its babbling brook is just ridiculously picturesque. And by the time I've returned my attention to their chattering, Castiel's admitted to his nefarious scheme, leading Belthazor to warn that Purgatory's souls represent "too much juice" for wee little Castiel to handle. "You'll explode," Belthazor predicts, "taking a substantial chunk of the planet with you." "Kinky!" Quiet, Raoul. "Hee! [Slurp!]" Castiel testily insists that won't happen, then fires back a demanding inquiry of his own: "Are you with me, or not?" Belthazor lets loose with an insouciant chuckle, then concedes, "You may be certifiable, but fine: In for a penny, in for a pound." Belthazor's loyalty thus assured, Castiel wonders how his compatriot found out about his nefarious scheme in the first place. "Your howler monkeys, of course," Belthazor replies, adding, "See, they're just a touch worked up about that kidnapping business, you know?" Castiel would offer his fellow angel a few soothing words of reassurance, I'm sure, were it not for the fact that we must now follow along as everything cuts awkwardly to...
...One Of Rhode Island's Finer Insane Asylums. Once again, Bobby arrives to discover Castiel's already been there, but fortunately, the elderly gent he's there to interview doesn't mind telling his story all over again. You see, his story about what happened on the night of March 10th, 1937, is what got him locked up in the first place, and after seventy-four years, he's just glad someone finally believes him. I'm thinking this is all meant to be terribly poignant and whatnot, but let's face it: There's still an hour and a half to go in this double-episode season finale, so I'll be keeping this brief. Long story short, Lovecraft and his bestest friends actually did open a portal into another dimension that long-ago evening, and something managed to escape into our world, but this elderly gent's the only person who noticed, and only because The Thing immediately took possession of his mother's body. "It went into her," the elderly gent mourns, "and she wasn't the same -- she even smelled different!" Mama Old Guy then vanished, never to be seen again, but The Elderly Gent still has a photo of her, and would Bobby like to take a look at it? He would indeed, and while the image itself is obscured from the audience's view for the moment, we can see that the back has been labeled "Eleanor -- 1935." Bobby examines the portrait for a moment, goes all wide-eyed with surprise, and growls, "I'll be damned!"
Delirious El Deano's Happy Inquisitionin' Hut. He's only just now getting around to interrogating that bald guy we last saw him with, and because he's so strung out on the caffeine and the booze and the horse tranquilizers and whatnot, he doesn't notice that the sole of his boot has scratched out a break in the Devil's Trap. D'OH! The bald guy more or less immediately rips free from his bonds while telekinetically flinging Delirious El Deano ass-over-end into a nearby van. The bald guy then hoists Dean up into the air in a chokehold, and great is the demonic speechifying that transpires until My Sweet Baboo flutters in from points unknown to fry the guy's brain clear out of his skull with one simple touch of his angelic hand. The bitterly feuding ex-boyfriends then just stand around, desperately attempting to avoid eye contact until the METAL TEETH CHOMP! trundles in to screech, "AWWWK-WAAAAAARD!" "Hey! He stole my line!" Drink your juice, Shelby. "Okay! [Slurp!]"
Delirious El Deano's Happy Inquisitionin' Hut. Aftermath. Dean's all, "Hey," and Castiel's all, "Hey," and then they sort of stare sullenly at each other for a while until Dean goes, "So...?" and Castiel's all, "Yeah," and then they stare at each other some more until we finally get to the point of this scene. Or something like that. After an eon of head-hammeringly dull chit-chat on The Grand Theme Of Familial Fealty, Castiel vows to free Bendy Lisa and The Brat. Of course, there's a condition attached, and that condition is for Dean to stand behind Castiel's decision to suck as many souls as he can out of Purgatory. Dean snaps back that Castiel's condition pretty much represents the "same damn ransom note" Crowley passed along during their earlier phone conversation, and he seethingly suggests that both Crowley and Castiel should kiss his ass. My Sweet Baboo realizes this scene is pointless, and silently flutters away, leaving Delirious El Deano to brood alone with nothing but his artfully lit Corpse Pile to keep him company.
Meanwhile, out in some rain-drenched wilderness, Bobby walks up to the front porch of a log cabin, where he warily eyes the Enochian sigil painted on the cabin's door before knocking. Soon enough, a petite blonde answers, and it's Doctor Visyak, and I'm getting sick of looking up her name every time I have to type it, so you'll forgive me if I skip ahead to the part where she admits she's the Eleanor from The Elderly Gent's surprisingly shocking photograph. "You're forgiven!" Thanks, Raoul. "Don't mention it! [Slurp!]" Yep, Doctor "Ellie," as Bobby familiarly calls her, is actually a 900-year-old Purgatorial beastie who's been inhabiting the body of The Elderly Gent's mother since that fateful night in 1937. "So, what's your game, then?" Bobby grumbles. No game, Doc Ellie claims, and no grand design on the Earth's inhabitants, either. She simply much prefers her current existence as a professor of Medieval Studies at "San Francisco University" to her existence as one of Mother's tormented offspring. "I happen to like it here," she shrugs, "and I don't want to see this place turned into some bloody wasteland." "So," Bobby prompts, "you killed H. P. Lovecraft?" "Please," Eleanor eyerolls. "That guy couldn't even write 'hello.'" And that's not an answer to Bobby's question at all, but perhaps this is: "I have spent seventy-five years trying to keep Purgatory closed." So, yeah, I'm thinking she took out Lovecraft and all of his besties in the year following her release. "Atta girl! [Slurp!]" You really didn't like that guy, did you, hon'? "I most certainly did not! Feh!" Well, we'll leave it at that, then, shall we? "We shall indeed!" Good.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes: So, Bobby apparently buys Eleanor's story, warns her that Castiel's coming to find her for whatever mysterious reason, pleads with her to let him in on the secret to opening Purgatory's door, and offers to help hide her until this entire ungodly mess blows over. Eleanor thanks him for the heads-up, refuses to divulge what she knows, and declines his gallant offer of protection. "You're just a man," she points out, adding slyly, "I'm better off protecting myself." Bobby has nothing to say to that, so let's leap ahead with the camera as it scoots over to...
...The Emporium kitchen, where it finds Darling Sammy pouring himself a healthy shot of something soothing. "Atta girl! [Slurp!]" Barely has the glass touched his lips, however, when Belthazor flutters in unannounced to mock at him for whatever snide reason. "Party pooper! [Slurp!]" Chit-chat ensues, with Belthazor eventually announcing his decision to betray Castiel and, after Dean has joined them, he explains that he's still not convinced My Sweet Baboo can handle sucking up eighty or ninety million monster souls, so from now on, he's happy to function as Our Intrepid Heroes' "double agent." To that end, he's already located Bendy Lisa and The Brat, and while Crowley's angel-proofed their prison, thereby preventing him from rescuing them himself, he can flutter the boys over to that prison's general location. Sam and Dean are all, "Let's do this!" so the thing we know, we've...
...scuttled over to a rain-streaked alleyway, where Belthazor deposits Our Intrepid Heroes before fluttering off. Sam and Dean lurk in the alleyway's shadows, casing the entrance to a nearby warehouse, until one of Crowley's demonically enhanced minions steps outside for a smoke. Delirious El Deano tippy-toes up behind the guy and sporks him with The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Raoul, darling. "Yes?!" You know there's no gore to be had in this scene. "I do, indeed!" Then why are you shrieking? "Well! I simply can't abandon you this final evening of the season as has been my habit as of late, so I am manufacturing my own fun!" Whatever gets you through the night, friend of friends. "[Slurp!]" That, too, and don't think this selfless gesture of yours is unappreciated. "My pleasure, I'm sure!" Excellent.
Now, where were we? Oh, yes: Delirious El Deano sporks the watchminion with The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't, and he and Shotgun Sammy scamper into the warehouse proper, where these two geniuses quickly agree to split up, because It Is Always A Good Idea For These Two To Split Up As Often As Possible Whenever They Find Themselves In The Middle Of Life-Threatening Situations. Assholes. "Demian!" Oh, leave me alone. "Hee! [Slurp!]" Anyway, Delirious El Deano hoofs it off to the right while Shotgun Sammy keeps going straight, and long story short, Shotgun Sammy quickly gets his tantalizing ass handed to him by a couple of Crowley's minions. You know, eventually, after much suspenseful cross-cutting between the two nimrods and an abundance of Tough-Guy Jazz-Hands and such. The minions haul Unconscious Sammy into some kind of enclosed courtyard and leave him there, locking him out of the warehouse proper for the hijinks that ensue, so we're down to Delirious El Deano and his trusty duffel bag, and just in time to check in on...
...Bendy Lisa and The Brat, too. The camera finds them sitting on the floor in a basement storeroom, lashed to a single steel support pillar and guarded over by three more of Crowley's minions. Presently, forest noises reach the storeroom from some antechamber above, so one of the minions mounts the rickety staircase to investigate. More forest noises reach the storeroom shortly after the first minion's exit, so the remaining two minions mount the rickety staircase to investigate. Are we having fun yet? "I certainly am! [Slurp!]" Don't taunt me with your flagons, Raoul. "Hee!" In any event, even more forest noises reach the storeroom shortly after the remaining two minions' exit, and long story short, Delirious El Deano sporks those last two guys with The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't, after which he hurls their rapidly cooling corpses through the basement door so they might smash twelve or so feet to the floor in a cascade of photogenic splinters. You know, just because. Dean quickly frees Bendy Lisa and The Brat from their pillar, but there's one tiny little issue that anyone who's ever watched this show before could have seen coming from miles and miles and miles away: Bendy Lisa's actually been possessed, and her demonically enhanced self snatches The Brat up by his throat while swiping The Knife from Dean's hand. D'OH! Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa lets her eyes flip beetle-black just in time to have them gobbled up by the METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Warehouse Basement. Immediate aftermath. Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa sneers and snarls and says hateful things about Dean and The Brat, and while Cindy Sampson's certainly having a ball with all of this, we still have more than an hour to go in tonight's doubleheader, so let's cut to the chase, shall we? "Okay!" Oh, wait a minute -- I can't let this particularly juicy insult she hurls at Dean pass by without transcribing it: Right after Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa claims that Regular Bendy Lisa's biggest mistake was not aborting The Brat when she had the chance, Dean growls, "It's not your mom, Ben -- she's lying!" Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa's response? "Says the C-minus lay with ten miles of Daddy Issues! Whatever gets you through the night, Tiny Tim!" HA! "Mercy me! Did that exceptionally tan young lady just impugn that charming little bandy-legged boy's character?!" In a manner of speaking, sure. "Saucy! [Slurp!]"
So, Short-Dick El Deano splashes some holy water in Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa's face, basically forcing her to drop her hold on both The Brat and The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't. Some half-hearted fisticuffs ensue, mainly because Short-Dick El Deano doesn't want to hurt Regular Bendy Lisa, with Short-Dick El Deano eventually opting to recite an exorcism. Just as the exorcism's about to take hold, however, Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa lunges past Short-Dick El Deano to snatch up a chisel from a nearby workbench, and she immediately plunges the thing into Regular Bendy Lisa's religiously toned abs. "Exorcise me now!" Demonically Enhanced Bendy Lisa challenges, practically twirling her dastardly moustaches with unseemly amounts of glee. Short-Dick El Deano tosses one anguished glance at The Brat, then completes the exorcism anyway. And when the howling and the wailing and the roiling clouds of bitterly black demonic goo are done, Bendy Lisa drops to the floor bleeding profusely from that sucking chisel wound in her gut. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Short-Dick El Deano immediately calls Unconscious Sam for an assist, but there is of course no answer forthcoming, so he tasks The Brat with wielding one of his trusty duffel's many, many salt-laden shotguns for the long march out of wherever the hell it is they are. The Brat's more than a bit shell-shocked and thus more than a bit slow on the uptake, so Short-Dick El Deano pretty much slaps the enamel straight off the kid's teeth. "VIOLENCE! WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT BRAT-BASHING VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!"
The Brat snaps to, and no sooner have they reached the warehouse's main floor than yet another of Crowley's minions rushes forward to attack. The Brat, much to his credit, promptly blasts the minion full of holes, and they continue on their merry way, with Short-Dick El Deano carrying the grievously injured Bendy Lisa in his arms. The Brat takes out a couple more minions somewhere off-camera, if those quick-repeating muzzle flashes are anything to go by, and after Short-Dick El Deano frees the freshly arisen Sam from the latter's temporary prison, the quartet scampers out into the alleyway, where Sam hotwires a product-placed Chrysler Jeep Liberty four-door compact sport utility vehicle. Synergy! "Hooray!" Except for the fact that, you know, they just showed us how easy those things are to steal. "Rats! [Slurp!]" The four pile into the car, and Leadfoot Sammy speeds off into this episode's final METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Hospital. Bendy Lisa's unconscious and hooked up to a ventilator, among other things, and when Short-Dick El Deano attempts to apologize to The Brat, The Brat simply gifts him with an icy glare by way of reply before leaping to his petulant feet and stomping out into the hallway. Castiel quietly materializes, looking guilty, and after his short-dick ex-boyfriend berates and blames him for Bendy Lisa's impending demise, My Sweet Baboo calmly steps over and places his palm on Bendy Lisa's forehead. "She's fine now," Castiel confirms, just in case you're new and couldn't figure out what he was doing, and he quietly moves to make his exit from the scene when Short-Dick El Deano suddenly blurts out, "There's one more thing you can do for me!" Castiel turns back to face him, waiting expectantly, and the thing we know...
...Bendy Lisa's waking up, sans ventilator tubes shoved down her throat, so I'm guessing Castiel's solution to this particular problem involved far more than a simple mind-wipe of Bendy Lisa and The Brat. Ooops! Spoiler! Yeah, Bendy Lisa wakes up, The Brat explains they were in a car accident that left him unscathed but Bendy Lisa with a mild concussion, and then Short-Dick El Deano edges his way into the room from the hall to check in on them. "Who are you?" asks The Brat, for he has been mind-wiped. "Dean," Short-Dicked El Deano answers honestly before LYING, "I'm the guy who hit you." "I lost control for a minute," he haltingly explains, "and I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." "I'm real happy you two are both doing okay," he adds, "and, uh, I'm glad your life can get back to normal right now." Bendy Lisa smiles at the apparent stranger in her hospital room rather than vowing to sue his reckless ass, and after she offers him a benediction of sorts, he turns to go. The instant he reaches the hall, the waterworks start, and Short-Dicked El Deano blinks back tears for a bit before heading outside.
He finds his brother waiting for him down in the lot, leaning against the Impala, and the two embark, with Sam taking the opportunity to chastise Short-Dick El Deano for, um, whatever the hell it was that Castiel did to make the universe forget Short-Dick El Deano had ever met Bendy Lisa in the first place. "You ever mention Lisa or Ben to me again," Short-Dick El Deano warns, "and I will break your nose." "Someone's overcompensating, I think!" I think you're on to something, there, my scaly friend, but unfortunately, I must ask for your momentary silence, for Short-Dick El Deano has something else to say. "No problem! [Slurp!]" "I'm not kidding," Short-Dick El Deano swears, and he lifts his watery, bloodshot eyes to offer his brother an expression of pure misery, and then Our Intrepid Heroes drive off into...
...the second episode of this evening's two-part season finale! "Hooray!" Oh, shit -- hold off on the rejoicing for a sec, friend of friends, because I forgot about the bit that comes . "Phooey!" Yes, while Our Intrepid Heroes might be driving off into the second episode of this evening's two-part season finale, the camera lingers for a cross-fade to Doctor Eleanor's log cabin, where it finds the good doctor sneaking from the cabin proper under cover of darkness with a cunning little Louis Vuitton overnight bag hanging from the crook of her arm. "Knockoff!" Oh, Raoul, are you sure? "I know my luxury goods, you silly little man, and that is a cheap Chinatown knockoff!" Well, I guess I'll have to take your word for it. "You'd best! Hmph!" Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah: The good doctor sneaks from her cabin proper under cover of darkness to steal away into the night in her stylish getaway sedan when My Sweet Baboo flutters in at her side to whisk her off towards points unknown -- otherwise known as the second episode of this evening's two-part season finale -- and now you can rejoice, my impressively fanged companion. "Hooray! [Slurp!] Flagon?!" Not just yet, hon' -- I'd better hold off on the boozing until I plow through this hour. "Suit yourself! [Slurp!]"
up: Duh.
Demian can't believe there's another sixty minutes of this shit. Raoul is far more sanguine about the prospect of another hour, because he's allowed to drink his way through it. "Cocktails! Cocktails for everyone! [Slurp!]" You may reach the former at demian_twop@yahoo.com. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.