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After last week's exhausting hijinks in Bodega Bay, Our Intrepid Heroes plus Dead Bobby retire to Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead deep within the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains to discuss, finally, this season's overarching Leviathan storyline. Unfortunately, none of their contacts -- and no, I don't know how they still have contacts when everyone they know is dead -- can tell them anything about Richard Roman's evil machinations as of late, but just when it looks like we're going to spend the entire hour watching these dolts try to play Scrabble with each other, Darling Sammy receives an e-mail from Frank Devereaux.
Well, actually, Darling Sammy receives a prewritten e-mail sent automatically from one of Frank Devereaux's stolen hard drives, because Frank Devereaux's dead, too. Probably. Before he left us, however, he rigged his computers to shoot out a warning message to Our Intrepid Heroes should anyone attempt to crack his encryption codes, and it is this warning message that sends Darling Sammy and Dashing El Deano screaming across the country to Mount Prospect, Illinois, and the worldwide headquarters of Richard Roman Enterprises, where this week's unusually annoying guest star has been trying to access Probably Dead Frank's data at the behest of Richard Roman himself.
Naturally, the boys team up with this week's uncommonly annoying guest star to figure out what's really going on and, after a series of wacky adventures too stupid to detail in this brief recaplet, they eventually figure out that Richard Roman unearthed something of tremendous importance on his last archeological dig in Iran. The boys plus this week's extraordinarily annoying guest star successfully conspire to hijack that something of tremendous importance just as it arrives in the United States and, when Richard Roman unleashes a team of his Leviathanically-enhanced underlings to annihilate Our Intrepid Heroes, Dead Bobby steps in to smack them all up with a hefty dose of his newfound ghostly mojo, thereby allowing Our Intrepid Heroes and this week's outlandishly annoying guest star to escape with their booty, relatively unscathed.
And that's about it, really. We're going to have to see how all of this plays out over this season's final three episodes, of course, but just between you and me, I'm pretty sure it's all going to blow.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Rattle, Rattle WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE THEN! Once upon a time, there was a lunatic jackass named Frank Devereaux who bitched and moaned at Our Intrepid Heroes for a very long while before vanishing under mysterious circumstances several episodes ago. In other news, Dead Bobby escaped his Reaper, haunted the boys on the sly for the better part of five months and finally manifested himself to Darling Sammy and Dashing El Deano with the help of some poorly-defined ghastly mojo. This led to an epic angst-filled discussion between Our Whiny Hypocrites in last week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash because, according to them, dead things should stay dead. Except when those dead things happen to be Sam and Dean, of course, and with that we arrive at this evening's...
...Rattle, Rattle STILL NOT GIVING A SHIT NOW! And because this week's script told them so, Our Intrepid Heroes have retired to Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead deep within the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains in order to discuss that whole overarching season-long Leviathan storyline they've been ignoring since December. "Well, thanks for looking," Darling Sammy mopes into his cell, ending what is obviously a disappointing phone call just as Dashing El Deano wanders into the cabin's parlor from points unknown. "Norah didn't see any pattern to the dig sites, either," Sam complains as he hangs up and no, I don't know who this "Norah" person is, so don't bother asking. "'Cause they got nothing in common," Dean snorts by way of reply as the boys arrange themselves rather fetchingly on the parlor's sofa, after which Dean goes on to note, "And I got nothing from local lore fifty miles in every direction of all of them." "I mean," he gripes, unscrewing Dead Bobby's magical traveling flask for a quick toot, "it's like they're just old dirt -- what's Dick looking for?" And in case you've been in your very own Coma Of Boredom for the last five or six episodes and have just awoken in a fetid puddle of your own filth only to find this strange scene unreeling on your television set because you were far too unconscious to change the channel since mid-February, Our Intrepid Idiots are here discussing Richard Roman's occasionally-mentioned archeological digs, which I assume will assume some sort of titanic importance over the remainder of this vastly disappointing season.
At the moment, however, those digs are of no importance at all, for barely has Dean's grumbling flown from his excessively pretty lips when the cabin's lights start to buzzing and blinking and flickering on and off, seemingly of their own accord. Our Intrepid Idiots immediately leap to their feet, Tough Guy Jazz Hands at the ready, but it's just Dead Bobby popping up for a chat and after he apologizes for "the jump scare," and after they establish how tired Dead Bobby is thanks to last week's strenuous hijinks, the three gather around the cabin's kitchen table in order to -- as Dead Bobby puts it -- "skip to the skinny." Unfortunately, said skinny is actually a morbidly obese round of blathering bedecked with occasional flashbacks to various pertinent episodes in which Our Intrepid Idiots plus Dead Bobby needlessly remind the tormented members of this wretched husk of a show's rapidly-dwindling audience of plot points WE ALREADY KNOW ABOUT. Or, you know, plot points we already guessed, but whatever. In any event, I'll lead you all through it as best I can, like so: The numbers Soon-To-Be-Dead Bobby scrawled on one of Darling Sammy's mighty mitts represented the coordinates to a vast swath of Northern Wisconsin recently purchased by Richard Roman Enterprises, which has already begun constructing "a biotech lab" on the property. As Dead Bobby learned shortly before he got himself shot in the head, The Leviathans intend to "dumb us all down with Turducken-style munchies" in order to "make us docile," after which they intend to deploy a bit of hoodoo stem-cell research in order to cure the human race of "all the biggies" like "cancer, AIDS, heart disease," and such, with the end result being, of course, a "perfect herd" of perfect people-shaped cattle perfectly willing to march its "dopey, fat asses down to the shiny new death camps at every corner." "This is about knocking us off the top of the food chain," Dead Bobby sums up before adding for emphasis, "This is about them Levis living here forever." DUN!
Cut to some random redhead futzing with an encrypted external hard drive.
Cut back to the kitchen of Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead, where Darling Sammy's laptop chimes to indicate he's got mail. "It's an e-mail from Frank!" Darling Sammy gasps and when the camera leaps around to give us all a glimpse of the computer's inbox, it becomes clear that Super-Smart Sammy has yet to master the intricacies of Spam filters, for the thing's positively clogged with messages sporting subject lines like "Send her orbit station giant times," "Do not weep for mouse man distance any longer," and "Make the crazy girthing!! Cheapest Price$!!" Like Slutty Sam really needs to kill another couple hundred women like that. In any event, Frank's notification reads simply, "I'm probably dead," and when Darling Sammy opens the thing, he finds the following: "If you're reading this, I'm dead -- or worse. This e-mail was sent because some prince is trying to hack into my hard drive right this second, so unless it's you, you got trouble."
Meanwhile, that random redhead is still futzing with Presumably-Dead Frank's external hard drive. The close-ups of her fingertips tapping madly away at her ergonomically-designed keyboard are enthralling.
"'My drive is full of compromising info,'" Sam continues reading back at the cabin, "'like your new aliases and hangouts and where you stored your car.'" This mention of the much-missed Impala nearly sends tears to Dashing El Deano's exceptionally pretty eyes, but we haven't time to linger on that at the moment for Darling Sammy's now explaining, "Even though he encrypted the crap out of his drive, he says we should assume that someone can hack into it eventually." Fortunately, Probably-Dead Frank loaded the thing with some sort of high-tech GPS tracking hoo-hah and a handy link from the e-mail opens a little window on Darling Sammy's screen that places the purloined hard drive in the general vicinity of Mount Prospect, Illinois -- which also happens to be the worldwide headquarters of Richard Roman Enterprises. DUN! "It's in the middle of the Death Star," Dean bleats and you'll pardon me for veering off on a tangent here at so early and crucial a juncture in tonight's presentation, I'm sure, but given the information they received in this e-mail, why the hell do Our Idiot Morons give a shit about Probably-Dead Frank's hard drive in the first place? They haven't exactly been hiding themselves from The Leviathans' prying eyes since Probably-Dead Frank constructed those new identities for them all the way back in October, so big deal about the aliases and hangouts and Probably-Dead Frank went missing far too long ago to have left behind anything currently relevant to the case at hand on his numerous computers, so why are they about to drop everything and tear ass halfway across the country to Chicago? GOD, I hate this show.
ANY-way, Dashing El Deano pouts until his preternaturally pretty features get obliterated by this evening's SNOT ROCKET!, and as I have nothing new to offer you regarding Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon's own worrisome disappearance oh so many months ago, I'll just keep plugging forward with tonight's stupid episode, shall I? Okay.
And when the dripping is done, the camera fades up to linger on the exterior of Richard Roman Enterprises' worldwide headquarters in lovely downtown Mount Prospect, Illinois. As a just-appearing card at the bottom of the screen informs us we've arrived "Five Hours Earlier" that redhead from the pre-credits sequence tools up to the building's entrance on a bright yellow Vespa she's adorned with a perky little daisy ornament on one of the handlebars and I hate her already. Actually, I've hated her since the promo for this episode originally aired last week and that fucking daisy on her fucking Vespa isn't doing anything to change my mind. Nor, for that matter, is her Princess Leia t-shirt. And the fact that she strips off her helmet to don a set of earphones so she can blast "Walking on Sunshine" directly into her skull while adorkably bouncing her annoyingly-dressed self into the lobby isn't much helping matters, either. And by the time she swipes herself into the facility's heavily-secured glass-walled elevator to -- get this -- boogie her way on up to her floor, I want her fucking dead.
Unfortunately, I have to suffer her aggravating ass for the rest of this goddamned episode, so I suppose I should take a moment to note that this "Charlene Bradbury" person is being portrayed this evening by someone named "Felicia Day" and according to the good people on the forum boards, she's as insufferable in real life as she is here. In fact, from what I can gather, Felicia Day's not so much playing a character named "Charlene Bradbury" this evening as she's offering us all a minor variation on her extremely geek-friendly public persona. And as I don't recall clamoring for this show to start featuring masturbation material targeted towards the vast unwashed hordes of Comic-Con, this knowledge only serves to enrage me more. Really, Supernatural? You're throwing an entire episode at this nonentity in some desperate attempt to reverse your rapidly-declining ratings this late in your seventh season and you expect me to, what, thank you for it? Well, fuck you.
And believe it or not, it only gets worse from here. We watch as Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® bounds from the elevator bank into her fourth-floor cubicle and of course -- of course -- her desk is littered with numerous examples of the sort of hideously overpriced pop-culture detritus so often favored by the cripplingly maladjusted, including a Legolas bobblehead, a Yoda PEZ dispenser, a Wonder Woman figurine and far too many pieces of infantile Harry Potter-related shit for me to count. Foremost amongst the latter is a wonky-eyed statuette of -- hang on, I've got to look this up -- Hermione Gingold, which Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® will be addressing out loud at numerous points during what follows and I mention that last bit now because I'm extremely likely to skip over those parts once we reach them, the better to preserve what little remains of my sanity. So. Where the hell were we?
Oh, yeah: Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® begins her workday by illegally transferring $10,000 from a Republican PAC's online -- wait a minute. Is she transferring that money from the PAC's website, rather than its actual bank account? Oh, my holy god, she totally is. Jesus Christ, this show sucks. Fast-forward, fast-forward, fast-forward... and here's one of Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s blubbery co-workers, there to "live vicariously" through her exploits! Asshole. And after Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® regales the fat sack of crap with lurid tales of engaging in bathroom sex at a charity benefit or something, their "teddy bear" of a boss arrives to summon her into his office for an impromptu meeting with...
...Richard Roman! Dun-dun-DUN! Or not, as the case may be, because unfortunately the eminent Richard Roman will not be devouring Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® whole during this or any other scene this evening. Instead, he opens the meeting by babbling something about the unspecified "dream" he's close to realizing, which he feels might be jeopardized by "the actions of one tiny little person." Naturally, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® thinks he's talking about her and her adorkably quirky siphoning of funds from various nefarious conservative organizations and she pleads, "Sir, I can fix this -- please don't fire me!" Richard Roman cocks a brow and almost-smiles, "Is this about hacking those super PACs? 'Cause that was adorable." And he means it. And now that Richard Roman's tongue-kissing Felicia Day®'s goddamned ass for no discernible reason, he can just fucking die too. "Tell me," he continues, as if that last line weren't more than enough, "how does a high-school dropout become one of the brightest minds at Roman, Inc.?" I'd transcribe Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s response, I'm sure, were I not so busy dry-heaving at the moment. "You're kind of completing me right now," Richard Roman continues, adding, "You have that spark -- that thing that makes humans so special." Actual vomit is now rising in my throat. "Not everyone has it," Richard Roman observes, "but people like you are impossible to copy." And as I'm now straight-up yakking directly at the television screen, I'll be skipping ahead to the relevant bit of this hateful conversation: Richard Roman hands Probably-Dead Frank's purloined hard drive over to Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® with an order to decrypt the thing within three days or else. With that, Richard Roman breezes on out of there.
Back at her hatefully-adorned desk, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® exchanges a few geek-coded remarks with the fat sack of crap before reenacting her pre-credits bit of futzing with Probably-Dead Frank's purloined hard drive and as she blatantly misspells the "SCAVENGE" part of "SCAVENGE PASSWORD," I'm even less convinced of her supposed super-specialness now than I was before. There's an entirely unnecessary reference to WarGames when Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® somehow fails to crack Probably-Dead Frank's encryption on her first try and with that, we head back over to...
...Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead deep within the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains, where we pick up immediately where we left off prior to the arrival of this evening's SNOT ROCKET!, and I'd like to point out that we just spent six full minutes watching Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® do nothing. Nothing. Fuck this show. GOD!
ANYWAY. As Dashing El Deano and Darling Sammy prepare to climb aboard this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash to embark upon their hasty and senseless jaunt to the greater Chicagoland area, Dead Bobby argues that they can't risk showing themselves in lovely downtown Mount Prospect as the place is likely filthy with Leviathans at the moment. Instead, he suggests, they should express-mail his magical traveling flask to Richard Roman's office, thereby allowing Dead Bobby to "ghost through the joint" in search of relevant information. After which they'll... have to break into the place to retrieve Dead Bobby's magical traveling flask, anyway? Excellent plan, Dead Bobby. Fortunately, Our Intrepid Heroes raise an objection of their own. Unfortunately, Our Idiot Morons' objection has nothing at all to do with mine, as they decide to oppose Dead Bobby's excellent plan on the grounds that, should Dead Bobby happen upon the monster responsible for his untimely demise, Dead Bobby will "go vengeful," leaving Our Idiot Morons with no other choice but to dispense with Dead Bobby's unquiet spirit for good. By salting and burning Dead Bobby's Magical Traveling Flask, of course. Which they will have to break into Richard Roman Enterprises to retrieve. Why is anyone still watching this show? No, seriously: WHY IS ANYONE STILL WATCHING THIS SHOW?
Oh whatever. We already know they're getting an eighth season of this shit, so forget I asked. For now.
The morning, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® finally manages to crack through the defenses on Probably-Dead Frank's purloined hard drive and, after consulting with Hermione Gingold, she decides to examine the drive's contents herself, even though Richard Roman left her with explicit instructions to deliver the thing to his office the moment she gained access. She's such a rebel! An Adorkably Quirky Rebel™, that is!
There follows an all-too-lengthy Probably-Dead Frank-narrated montage during which Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® learns everything there is to know about The Leviathans and I'm not going to complain about it too much, because it allows me to skip past two minutes of entirely useless screentime. For those of you keeping track at home, that's eight full minutes we've spent watching absolutely nothing, featuring Felicia Day®. Joy. And when it's over, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® decides to seek out her ineffectual wimp of a boss for a consult, only to discover he's retired to the facility's parking garage for a cigarette.
Cut to the parking garage, where Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s ineffectual wimp of a boss is just now retrieving his smokes from his car, because no smoker ever carries his cigarettes with him at all times, ever, and just as he's about to fire one up, Richard Roman appears with an ominous-looking bodyguard, because no cigarette smoker will be suffered to live on Supernatural. You know, basically. Claiming he wants "a watchful eye kept" on Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® and her little hard-drive project -- and after offering us all an entirely gratuitous albeit well-deserved verbal smackdown of noted Christian failure Tim Tebow -- Richard Roman sics his ominous-looking bodyguard on Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s haplessly ineffectual wimp of a boss. The bodyguard quickly morphs down into Wimp Boss form, then proceeds to devour Famous Original Wimp Boss right there in the parking garage... and right in front of the just-arriving Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®! D'OH!
Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®, of course, gasps in shock and horror and whatnot, but she's quite naturally canny enough to stifle her wails of abject terror and the thing we know, she's scurried back to her apartment to throw some necessities into a bag and she's about to split town for good when Our Idiot Morons materialize from out of nowhere to block her exit. The boys prove their human bona fides by splashing some borax-laced detergent on their hands, then insist Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® do the same. She complies, and we finally -- finally -- head into this evening's first CHOMP!-less commercial break with Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® wondering, "Who the hell are you guys?"
That first CHOMP!-less commercial break, by the way, opens with a fake corporate branding advertisement for a Monsanto-like multinational named "Sucrocorp," which I'm guessing is a fully-owned subsidiary of Richard Roman Enterprises. Call it a hunch. The thirty-second spot's not nearly as threatening as the similarly-themed corporate branding ad featured in Michael Collins, and it's not anywhere as entertaining as the last fake commercial they produced for this show, so I'm going to ignore it. Well, except for the fact that I just typed out about hundred goddamned words about the thing, of course.
Back from the break, we return to Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s apartment to find that Our Idiot Morons have already brought Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® up to speed on everything. They ask for her help breaking into Richard Roman's e-mail account and while she's more than happy to provide them with that particular service, it seems Mr. Roman has a private e-mail server in his office, so they won't be reading Mr. Roman's personal correspondence anytime soon. Unless Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® agrees to LIE her way past security on the executive floor, of course. She initially balks at this proposition but, after realizing The Leviathans intend to eat everyone she knows, she agrees and the three huddle around her laptop to devise a strategy. Oh and while she's in the building, she's also going to erase Probably-Dead Frank's purloined hard drive, because it's actually of no use to anyone. I told you there was no reason for these fuckwits to drive to Chicago tonight. GAH! ANY-way, while all that's going on, the for-now-invisible Dead Bobby lurks in a corner, listening to everything they say until he silently stumbles across a cunning plan.
That evening finds the boys cramped inside a camouflaged surveillance van procured and wired for them by the redoubtable Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®. For some reason, she's rerouted the building's security camera feeds through her own laptop so Dimwit Sammy might set them all on a fifteen-minute loop once Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® swings into action and no, I don't know why that's necessary and no, I don't particularly care, but the live video they're watching now of Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® nervously twittering about the forecourt of Richard Roman Enterprises does allow the eagle-eyed Dumbass El Deano a chance to note that Dead Bobby's sneakily placed his Magical Traveling Flask in Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s backpack. D'OH! "What the hell's he thinking?" Dean scowls. "He's not," Sam frowns and Sam suggests they call off the entire mission in order to retrieve the errant Magical Traveling Flask, but Dean insists they move forward as planned as "they only got one shot at this." Yeah, whatever you say, Sugar Lips.
After a bit of extremely unamusing business involving Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s habit of singing to herself when she's nervous, the boys contact her via her product-placed Bluetooth®-enabled earpiece, whereupon Dumbass El Deano instructs her not to lose the "heirloom" flask they've placed in her backpack for good luck. Everyone then agrees that it's go time, but, of course, there's problem: Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® chooses this very moment to allow her nerves to get the better of her, so Dimwit Sammy has little choice but to offer her a wireless pep talk and as the infantile Harry Potter references abound during the conversation that follows, I'll be skipping past the whole thing to the point where...
...Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® finally enters the building to board the elevator for the ride to the fourth floor, and oh! This is why she rerouted the security camera feeds through her laptop: once she arrives on her own floor, she exits the cab, allowing Dimwit Sammy to place the footage from the now-empty cab's camera on an endless loop, so Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® might reboard that same elevator for the ride up to the executive suites on eleven. Of course, because this show SUCKS, this supposedly clever twist requires all of us to forget the fact that the main security desk would have independent information on which elevator cab is on what floor at all times and it also requires all of us to forget the fact Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® is riding a glass-walled elevator in an open atrium. I WANT TO DIE.
Unfortunately, I do not die and so must continue with this hateful, horrible, wretched and miserable episode. Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® arrives on the executive floor entirely unmolested, only to find her path blocked by "a big-ass guard." "What do I do?" she panics. "Just wait him out," Dumbass El Deano suggests. The security guard proceeds to plant himself in a chair, where he begins to leaf through the most recent issue of National Geographic. "He's not going anywhere!" Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® moans. Dumbass El Deano thinks real hard about that for a couple of seconds, then suggests Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® flirt her way past the guy. Of course, there's a problem with this as well: Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® is a lesbian and therefore incapable of flirting with anything in possession of a penis. Just go with it, because I don't have the strength to scream about that particular piece of stupidity at this point. And while I'm tempted to refer to her as "Danger Dyke" from here on out, I'd only use that nickname on a character I actually enjoy watching, so Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® it is for the remainder of the recap.
Dumbass El Deano quickly decides to talk Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® through her flirtatious encounter with Security Guard "Bill," feeding her lines like he's some sort of modern-day -- and far-prettier -- Cyrano de Bergerac and it goes as horribly as you'd imagine it would, with Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® obliviously repeating Dean's whispered asides to a snickering Sam as if they were part of the seduction, but in the end, the smitten Bill falls for it anyway because Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® has that super-special spark that sets her far above the rest of humanity. And I can't believe I just typed that last part out without ralphing all over my computer. Several people need to rot in Hell forever for this episode. Ugh.
So where the hell were we? Oh, yeah: With all that out of the way, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® takes off down the eleventh-floor hall -- supposedly to "powder her nose" in the executive washroom because the ladies' on four is filthy -- and, upon reaching Richard Roman's office, she deliberately enters what she's calling "radio silence" for the couple of minutes.
Down in the van, Dimwit Sammy pours borax-laced detergent into a series of Mason jars. No, I don't know why. Stop asking me questions.
Up in the office, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® has of course cracked Richard Roman's password -- it's "w1nn1ng," by the way -- and she's in the middle of copying his entire e-mail directory onto a flash drive when Security Guard Bill gets suspicious and decides to go a-rapping on the washroom door. Fortunately, Dead Bobby's there to fuck with the guy's mind, which he accomplishes by... telekinetically slamming Richard Roman's door shut, thereby drawing Security Guard Bill's attention to the very room they need the guy to avoid? I think there's something wrong with Dead Bobby's brain. Or rather, I would think there's something wrong with Dead Bobby's brain were it not for the fact that everyone on this show is now a blithering fucking idiot. In any event, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® thinks fast and scampers over to Richard Roman's private can, from which she too-innocently emerges once Security Guard Bill's made his way into the office. And even though she was constitutionally incapable of flirting with him without Dumbass El Deano's assistance before, she has absolutely no problem doing so now and words cannot describe how much I hate my life at this moment. Have I mentioned the fact that Richard Roman's office apparently overlooks The Wrigley Building from across Pioneer Court, even though Mount Prospect is twenty-five miles northwest of The Loop? Well, consider it done. And speaking of done is this scene over yet? It is? Thank fucking Christ.
Down in the van, Dumbass El Deano quite seriously refers to Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® as "Veronica Mars." In other news, Dumbass El Deano is dead to me. No, I don't care how much lip gloss he's wearing in this scene. He's dead to me, do you hear? DEAD.
Back on the fourth floor, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® has returned to her desk and now busies herself transmitting Richard Roman's entire e-mail directory to the boys, whom she also rings up via her product-placed Bluetooth®-enabled earpiece. Unfortunately, her Leviathanically-enhanced boss chooses this moment to swing by her cubicle, so Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® has little choice but to cut short her conversation with Our Idiot Morons until she's sent the supremely suspicious monster on his way. You might think that sending a supremely suspicious monster on his way would be a difficult thing to do and I'm sure that for regular human beings it would indeed represent an insurmountable task, but this is Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® we're talking about, here, so she's back on the phone with Our Idiot Morons in a matter of seconds. The three begin rifling through Richard Roman's e-mails together and they quickly discover that a package is due to arrive that very evening from Roman's last archeological dig site somewhere in Iran. DUN! Okay, not really, but I needed to do something. It's like this episode was specifically designed to both bore and enrage me to death at the same time.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah: Richard Roman's mysterious package is set to arrive at "Downey Airport" at 11:15, which means Our Idiot Morons have less than forty-two minutes to make it all the way to Idaho. Unless, of course, it's actually arriving at The Chicago Executive Airport in Wheeling, which is what the map pulled up by Our Idiot Morons at this point is telling me, so I guess we won't be treated to an insane fifteen-minute drive all the way across the country tonight. Before the boys leave, though, The Idiot Moron Who Is Now Dead To Me has one more favor to ask of Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®. Could she possibly find a way to squeeze it onto her to-do list?
Alas, we must wait to learn of her answer -- hint: it's a yes -- in favor of joining Richard Roman himself as he strides through his headquarters' lobby. He chats briefly with a Leviathanically-enhanced underling who's been stationed at The Chicago Executive Airport in anticipation of that mysterious package's arrival, after which Mr. Roman...
...pops upstairs to scare the living crap out of Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®. DUN! Also: this evening's second CHOMP!-less commercial break and have they spaced the breaks incredibly far apart this evening for some bizarre reason or am I actually losing my mind?
No, you don't have to answer that one, either.
Airport. Richard Roman's Leviathanically-enhanced underling arrives at the appropriate hangar just in time to ram smack into a stumpy little bow-legged baggage handler. Hmmm. The Leviathanically-enhanced underling mutters something menacing, then proceeds to retrieve Richard Roman's mysterious package from the pilots of the private jet that flew the thing in, after which he retires to a black SUV to drive back to headquarters.
Over in another section of the airport's parking lot, Our Idiot Morons hover over the open trunk of this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash, with Dimwit Sammy asking of The One Who Is Dead To Me, "Now what?"
Headquarters. Richard Roman enters his office with his Leviathanically-enhanced underling, the latter of whom opens his boss's mysterious package in which they find an economy-sized bottle of borax-laced detergent wired to a time-delayed bomb. D'OH! "Now who could have done that?" Roman mildly wonders just as the thing goes off.
Jump down to the fourth floor, where the just-appearing card at the bottom of the screen informs us we've arrived "Two Hours Earlier," and are these fucking time jumps really that necessary to the hideously boring story they're trying to tell tonight? And no, I'm not expecting an answer for that one, either. Christ on a STICK. ANY-way, Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® is back at her atrociously-adorned desk, listening as The Idiot Moron Who Is Now Dead To Me announces he has one more favor to ask of her, and what does he ask for? "More time." Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® immediately sends a false e-mail from the travel department informing Richard Roman that the expected flight will be arriving thirty minutes late thanks to some inclement weather and, after she promises to finish wiping Probably-Dead Frank's entirely unnecessary hard drive, we head back to...
...The Chicago Executive Airport, where we see what actually happened when the Leviathanically-enhanced assistant arrived to retrieve Richard Roman's mysterious package. Long story short, Our Idiot Morons posed as baggage handlers in order to surreptitiously switch suitcases on the guy, but before we get a chance to see what's inside the one they ended up with, we must first hop back over to...
...Richard Roman Enterprises, to pick up immediately where we left off just before the last CHOMP!-less commercial break and I am beyond sick of this bullshit tonight, so let's start wrapping this crap up fast, okay? Excellent. Richard Roman asks Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® to show him what she's found. Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® gapes. !
Chicago Executive Airport. Our Idiot Morons retreat to this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash, where they crack open the mysterious suitcase to find a clay tablet. "Did we just steal a chunk of dirt?" Dimwit Sammy more or less asks. "That's a good question," The Idiot Moron Who Is Now Dead To Me replies. "Why don't we answer that a few thousand miles away from here, though?" Excellent idea, Person I Refuse To Acknowledge By Name, but unfortunately, we must first haul ourselves back over to...
...the fourth floor of Richard Roman Enterprises, where Richard Roman himself is just now asking Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® to search for the Winchesters on Probably-Dead Frank's entirely unnecessary and now-blank hard drive. Of course, she finds nothing, but we pause so Richard Roman might once again praise Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s Super-Unique Superhuman Sparkle™, anyway, after which we...
...get a replay of the scene with the borax bomb. This time around, Richard Roman waits for the explosion to render his Leviathanically-enhanced underling unconscious on the floor, after which he steps his mildly-injured and rapidly-healing self over to the phone to order a complete lockdown of the building, trapping Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® in the lobby. DUN! And we enter this evening's third CHOMP!-less commercial break hoping against hope that Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® gets her annoying alterna-ass handed to her when we return, even though we already know that's never, ever going to happen, because Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s Super-Unique Superhuman Sparkle™ will always -- always -- save her in the end.
Richard Roman Enterprises. Lobby. Aftermath. Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® bangs futilely against the locked lobby doors while Richard Roman descends from above in one of those stylish see-through elevators. Fortunately, Dead Bobby's there to inflict a little glass-shattering ghastly mojo on the lobby doors and when Richard Roman approaches with Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s Leviathanically-enhanced boss, Dead Bobby whacks the latter up with enough otherworldly energy to send the monster careening into a wall. Dead Bobby sets his sights on Richard Roman himself and Our Idiot Morons come tumbling through the lobby doors just in time to watch as Dead Bobby starts kicking Richard Roman's ass from one end of the atrium to the other. It's a lot more boring and stupid than it sounds. Thus, you know, the lack of encouraging hoots and hollers from yours truly. Dead Bobby pins Richard Roman against a bizarrely-placed image of The Time Warner Center in Columbus Circle long enough for Our Idiot Morons to escape with Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®, the latter of whom seems to have injured her arm despite that Super-Unique Superhuman Sparkle™ of hers, after which Dead Bobby retires to...
...this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash, which is now speeding away from Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day®'s former place of employment. Geek-coded chit-chat ensues until Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® passes out in the back seat, and with that, we head back to...
...the executive floor to watch as an infuriated Richard Roman prepares to devour his Leviathanically-enhanced underling whole, and what's that? Another CHOMP!-less commercial break? Will this fucking episode never end?
We return from this evening's final break to fade up on whatever Vancouver building they're using to represent Chicago's Greyhound terminal and, long story short, Our Idiot Morons escort Adorkably Quirky Super-Hacker™ Felicia Day® to a bus and niche piece of nerd masturbation fodder disappears from the Supernatural screen forever. Hooray!
On the way back to this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash, Our Idiot Morons get to talking about Dead Bobby's "vengeful spirit crap" back in that lobby. However, as they have little time to deal with that whole mess at the moment because they just wasted yet another entire episode supporting yet another guest "star" I want to drop off a cliff, they decide to figure out what's up with Richard Roman's clay tablet first. And with that, we finally and at long last cut to black.
week: Hell if I know. The promo they aired seems to include bits and pieces from all three of this season's remaining episodes, so the actual content of Friday's episode remains anyone's guess. See you then!
Demian sure could use a flagon right about now. Unfortunately for him, Raoul remains at large. You may reach the former at demian_twop@yahoo.com. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet who vanished without a trace way back in mid-January. Right around the time this show really started sucking, in fact. Hmmm.
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