In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.
After a very promising opening sequence positively bursting with grue and gore, this episode quickly settles back into the same sort of boring routine that's dragged down so many other installments of this show over the last couple of years. It seems a certain someone or something has taken to slaughtering various young men in the Seattle area and, as one would expect, the unusual method of death -- severing the hands and the feet before carving a mysterious symbol into the victims' chests -- catches the attention of Our Intrepid Heroes. Well, it catches the attention of one of them, at any rate, because we first have to endure yet another of those Are You Sure This Is Our Kind Of Thing?/Yes, You Pathetic Drunk, I Am Positive This Is Our Kind Of Thing! conversations before Dreary El Deano agrees to accompany Darling Sammy on a road trip to the Pacific Northwest to see what's going on. And barely have they arrived when Dreary El Deano decides to bail on the whole sitch in favor of sucking down a scotch or ten at the first yuppie bar he stumbles across. Nice.
Naturally, while he's at the bar, Dean meets and flirts with a likely lass whose name will forever escape me, and before you know it, the two are flying back to her place to Do It. Of course, this night of passion ends up being A Very Bad Thing Indeed for Dashing El Deano because the likely lass is actually an Amazon, there in Seattle with the rest of the women in her tribe on their collective biennial quest to get knocked up. You see, on Supernatural, Amazons head out into the world once every two years to mate, after which their fast-gestating insta-offspring rise up to slaughter their respective sires -- after first making sure to hack off the hands and feet of the gentlemen in question for snacks later. I know, I know. Just go with it.
So, within a period of three days, Dean finds himself confronting his irritable and morose teenage daughter, the latter of whom at first plaintively pleads for his help in escaping the wicked Amazonian cult that's ensnared her before she eventually reveals her true murderous intent, along with a very large knife. Fortunately for Dreary El Deano's various appendages, Darling Sammy arrives in the nick of time to plug his supposed niece with lead and, after leaving the annoying adolescent's now-rotting corpse just lying there in the middle of their fetid little motel room, the boys hop into whatever piece of crap they're driving this week to motor on off towards their asinine adventure. They can't seriously be considering another whole season of this bullshit, can they?
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Rattle, Rattle WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE THEN! As you'll no doubt recall, Bobby dropped dead after taking a bullet to the brain courtesy of lead Leviathan Richard Roman, and his unquiet and aggressively hirsute spirit is likely roaming the earth even as I type this. Meanwhile, Darling Sammy wouldn't shut the hell up about stupid Dead Amy already, and at some point during this seemingly neverending season, Dashing El Deano turned into a whiny little bitch who occasionally flashes a creepy, dead-eyed smile, just so he can freak us all the hell out.
In far more important news: Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon is missing. Yes, missing. When last I heard from him, he was going bowling, but that was three whole weeks ago, and I've seen neither scale nor claw of him since. And to be honest with you, I'm more than a little worried. Sure, he's taken it upon himself to vanish with no explanation before, but he never stayed away longer than a couple of days, and besides, all of those disappearances ended up being tied to the brief (but passionate) affairs he's been known to dally in from time to time with various of the charming locals here in Brooklyn, New York. That can't be the case this time, because that dizzy lizard is utterly incapable of maintaining a romantic relationship for longer than thirty-six hours, max, so I don't know what to do. I tried putting up flyers, but the neighbors told me they were scaring the children, so I had to take them all down again. Naturally, I can't get the police to listen to me, either, but you know if he were a skinny blonde white woman instead of a tubby little green-scaled prehistoric killing machine, he'd have been all over goddamned Nancy Grace weeks ago. So, you know. I'm a little emotional right now. If any of you happen to see him, would you please tell the shrieky bastard to give me a call, at least?
...rain-dampened sidewalk outside to process through recent events. By the way, the stenciled lettering on the building's doors reveals they've just exited the "SEATTLE POLICE CRIME LAB," so we now have a primary location for this evening's festivities. You know, in case you cared. In any event, Sam proposes they head back to This Week's Motel Room to deploy their collective mad Googling skillz in search of that peculiar, wavy-armed stick figure, but Drunky El Deano would much rather suck down copious amounts of healing booze, thank you very much, so he rather rudely bails on his brother to hit up...
..."The Cobalt Room," where the camera arrives to find him already in mid-conversation with some woman from The Vampire Diaries, which I have never watched, so whatever to this bit of stunt casting. There follows a series of extreme and extremely annoying close-ups on their eyes and their lips and their teeth and their hair as they flirt with each other, but nothing will detract from the fact that Vampire Lady's sleeveless, purple, ruffly Urban Cowgirl blouse is fucking awful, so I'm going to do my best to preserve what's left of my tortured sense of sight and skip ahead to the bit where Vampire Lady coos, "Want to move this conversation elsewhere?" because that means we can jump right into a...
...MONTAGE! And we all know how much I love me a good montage, right? Right. This one's set to the dulcet tones of AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" and features Drunky El Deano getting it on with Vampire Lady back at her place while some unsuspecting schlub gets his extremities hacked off on the other side of town. It is, quite honestly, a pretty fun idea, this blatant juxtaposition of sex and violence -- and there's an especially nice quick cut from Vampire Lady tossing Drunky El Deano up against a wall to this evening's second bit of Monster Chow getting hurled up against one of his own -- but like so many pretty fun ideas on this show as of late, it proceeds to fall apart in the execution. Like I said on the forum boards shortly after this episode aired, the sex isn't violent enough and the violence isn't sexual enough for the whole thing to work as well as it should have, so...yeah. Whatever. In consideration of events to come, though, I should note that Drunky El Deano at no point stops the action to wrap up his business, though given the fact that we were explicitly told tonight's villains lack human DNA, I'm not sure if his apparent carelessness has any bearing whatsoever on Vampire Lady's subsequent pregnancy. Ooops. Spoiler!
This Week's Motel Room. Drunky El Deano intently surfs the Internets for perverted Japanicrap porn until some visitor comes a-tapping at his chamber door. Dean warily cocks his trusty pearl-handled automatic and peeks through the peephole, then opens the door to find a breathy and moist-eyed Teen Emma standing at his threshold. "You don't know me," she whispers urgently, "but I need your help -- I think I'm in trouble, and you're the only person I can trust!" "Why?" Dean quite rightfully wonders. "Because you're my father!" Teen Emma claims, and no, he's not, AT ALL, because see above re: gynogenesis, but whatever, because we've hit what should be this evening's final CHOMP!-less commercial break, and as I am now a mere nine minutes away from sweet, sweet freedom, I'm going to let it slide.
For all of two seconds, because when we return, Drunky El Deano does not immediately shoot Teen Emma in the face even though she is not his daughter and is, in fact, yet another ancient Purgatorial beastie sent straight from the flaming maw of Hell to slaughter him. Or something like that. In any event, Drunky El Deano instead invites Teen Emma in for a chat, and fuck this bullshit, and...
...look! It's Darling Sammy, learning yet another piece of information the still-conscious members of this awful show's rapidly-dwindling audience already figured out a half an hour ago! The good professor, examining the ancient sheet of Greek parchment under a magnifying glass, notes that according to this particular variation on the Amazonian mythology, "it's not the women who do the killing." "Instead," he reads, "a ritual of initiation requires that the child born of the mating process must kill her own father." WE KNOW.
This Week's Motel Room, and LESS TALKING, MORE SHOOTING. Drunky El Deano doesn't listen to me because Drunky El Deano never listens to me, so let's head back over to...
...This Week's Nameless University, where Darling Sammy powers through the darkened hallways until he runs smack into...Amazon Charlene! DUN! Amazon Charlene grabs Our Imperiled Hero by one of his exceptionally healthy arms, allows the skin around her eyes to flush blood-red for an instant, then flips Darling Sammy down a short flight of stairs, where he ends up nearly smacking his way through a set of swinging doors. And with Darling Sammy now lying apparently unconscious on the floor, Amazon Charlene lets a very large bronze knife drop into her hand from the sleeve of her jacket. Dun-dun-DUN! Unfortunately for Amazon Charlene, though, Darling Sammy's just faking his little swoon, there, and before she takes a single step towards him, he flips around to plug her full of holes with his magically-appearing automatic. Amazon Charlene instantly keels over, dead, with that very large bronze knife of hers clattering loudly against the tiles, but naturally, there's a problem: Darling Sammy's phone has been smashed to bits. D'OH!