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So, you remember last week, right? When Our Intrepid Heroes stole that chunk of prehistoric clay from Richard Roman's goons in Wheeling, and Darling Sammy was all, "So, what do we do?" and Dashing El Deano was all, "Whatever we do, it needs to happen several thousand miles away from here!" Yeah, well, they make it all the way to South Chicago before they stop to chop open that chunk of prehistoric clay, because they're idiots. This stupid show.
Anyway, Our Intrepid Heroes' clay-cracking efforts call down a mighty, violent, continent-wide, angel-awakening, prophet-activating electrical storm from an unhappy Heaven, so the boys figure they're doing something right, and that seems to be confirmed when The Leviathan's chunk of prehistoric clay disgorges a stone tablet that's packed with a tight, tiny script neither of them can read. Fortunately, Sassy Demonette Meg phones them at that very moment from Castiel's funny farm in Northern Indiana to inform Sam and Dean that everybody's favorite fallen angel has snapped out of his coma. Unfortunately, My Sweet Baboo can't read the stone tablet's fussy script, either, as it was originally chiseled by Metatron back during the creation of Earth, and thus was never meant for mere angel eyes.
Good thing, then, that the prophet activated by that electrical storm shows up in his parents' stolen car to translate everything for Our Intrepid Heroes. This new prophet is a painful Asian stereotype originally hailing from suburban Michigan, and of course, he arrives with a little extra baggage of his own, this in the form of a pair of angels from Castiel's old garrison who've been tasked with whisking both the prophet and the Metatron tablet off to some remote location, where the prophet might reveal The Word Of God to them in private. Naturally, Our Intrepid Heroes take issue with this plan of action and, after Dashing El Deano activates a sneaky Angel-B-Gon sigil on one of the nuthouse walls, the boys plus Castiel plus Meg plus the prophet plus the Metatron tablet retire to the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountain range to translate God's Word in peace. The temporarily thwarted angels eventually give chase and, after a brief showdown during which Meg magically smites one of them, the remaining angel reaches an amicable agreement with Sam and Dean, and the prophet soon informs them all that the tablet contains a predictably complicated set of instructions for killing every last Leviathan dead.
And just when things seem to be settling down quite nicely for everyone involved, one of Richard Roman's minions turns another couple of angels' innards into sticky black goo, and everything goes to hell all over again. This season is never going to end, is it?
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Rattle, Rattle WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE THEN! Once upon a time, this episode happened. Then, a little later, this episode happened. Is everyone all caught up now? Excellent.
Rattle, Rattle STILL NOT GIVING A SHIT NOW! Tonight, the NOW! decides to vanish pretty quickly so we might linger in the blackness for a moment as the opening notes of one of Bach's Six Suites For Unaccompanied Cello reverberate across the soundtrack. When the camera finally does fade up, it lingers on a framed "Certificate Of Membership" to something called the "National Scholastic Society of American Secondary Schools," which has been issued to a certain "Kevin Tran" for his purported "achievements in Scholastic Excellence, Leadership, Service & Character," so at least they've been nice enough to provide us with a name for the young gentleman we're about to meet straight off the bat, instead of making us wait fifteen or twenty minutes like they usually do. I'm especially grateful for this, because "Kevin" is a hell of a lot easier on the fingers than "Vaguely Insulting Overachieving Asian-American Stereotype: Male Version," which is what I was going to have to call him had they not been so kind as to provide that helpful little framed certificate. In any event, after lingering on that initial piece of paper for a moment, the camera slides across several other framed proofs of this young man's achievements in various adolescent endeavors, including a couple announcing his placement on Lincoln High's "HONOUR ROLL," which is an odd way for a school in "Neighbor, Michigan," to spell that particular word, but whatever. And just as the camera reaches Kevin himself to focus in on his face as he concentrates intently on his bowing and fingering and whatnot while practicing the abovementioned piece, we cross-fade over to...
...the interior of a night-darkened and abandoned warehouse in "South Chicago, Illinois," to watch as Our Intrepid Heroes set up shop. And yes, I realize this was the very first thing I bitched about in the recaplet for this episode, but really, guys? Richard Roman and his teeming hordes of Leviathanically-enhanced underlings have basically taken over Mount Prospect, and you decide to crack open that priceless and likely deadly artifact you just stole from them only a couple miles away from them down the Kennedy? Morons.
ANY-way, after a few seconds of that, we cut back to Kevin's bedroom just as his cell phone starts buzzing on his desk, and it's his very best friend in the whole entire world, Vaguely Insulting Overachieving Asian-American Stereotype: Female Version, calling to commiserate with Kevin over Princeton's rapidly-dropping acceptance rate and their impending SATs. And I know I really shouldn't get caught up in tiny little details like this so early in the episode but: It's May of these kids' senior year. Why are they still worried about entrance exams and college applications? Who the hell got Glee all over my Supernatural, goddammit? Oh, and while I'm bitching about the sorts of tiny little things this show used to get right but hasn't in a very, very long time, Vaguely Insulting Overachieving Asian-American Stereotype: Female Version's area code is 240, which is Maryland. Shut up, show.
Of course, now that I've talked myself out of any interest I might have had in what those two have to say to each other, I'm left with little choice but to ignore them completely in favor of heading back to South Chicago, where Our Intrepid Heroes are just now lifting their sneakily-stolen block of prehistoric clay from its protective case to clunk it down on a convenient wooden table. "Lot of fuss over a caveman Lego," Dashing El Deano grunts, and with that, he and Darling Sammy carefully don protective eyewear -- which is desperately ludicrous in a surprisingly funny way -- so Dashing El Deano might begin chiseling away at the thing to find out what's inside. "CHONK!" goes the mallet. "RUMBLE!" goes the sky far above their heads. Dashing El Deano cocks a quizzical brow at Darling Sammy, all, "My, but that was an odd coincidence, don't you think?"
Meanwhile, over in Michigan, Kevin cracks open a can of soda as lightning flickers outside his bedroom windows. DUN!
Warehouse. "CHONK!" goes the mallet. "CRASH!" goes the sky far above their heads. "That sound like somebody say, 'No! Wait! Stop!' to you?" Dashing El Deano inquires. "Uh, yeah," Darling Sammy replies, so Dashing El Deano of course whacks the block of prehistoric clay with his mallet again. And again. And again, and again, and again, until the prehistoric clay crumbles away, and those first few warning rumbles up in the sky metastasize into a raging, Midwest-wide lightning storm. Uh oh.
One bolt of lightning in particular finds little Kevin Tran absolutely irresistible, and it zaps down out of the sky to slam into his head, the force of the impact jolting him up into the air while shattering every single pane of glass in his bedroom. DUN!
Warehouse. Dashing El Deano brushes a few stray crumbs of prehistoric clay away to run his fingers across the jet-black piece of intricately carved rock the clay had been covering.
Michigan. Zapped-out Kevin drops to the carpet, unconscious, his eyes glowing white. A vision of the Our Intrepid Heroes' intricately-carved rock flashes through his brain for a couple of seconds, hurling the kid into a brief series of spasms, after which he lies still on the floor of his now-ruined bedroom for a moment until his wispy little form gets obliterated by this evening's...
...SNOT ROCKET!, and as there has been no change in the depressing situation that's been plaguing me since mid-January, I'll be jumping right into the episode proper, if that's all right with all of you. It is? Good.
Northern Indiana Home For Temporarily Disabled Baboos. Comatose Castiel lies atop his bed while Snarky Demonette Meg peruses a copy of We Couldn't Afford The Rights To The Us Weekly Logo nearby. Suddenly, My Temporarily Disabled Baboo bolts upright to open his eyes. Snarky Demonette Meg reacts to this entirely unexpected development with decidedly mild surprise.
Vast Swath Of Northern Wisconsin. Latino Leviathan Whose Name I Can't Remember consults with a Leviathanically-enhanced architect over the latest plans for Richard Roman's primary people slaughterhouse until his cell phone bleeps, and -- wait a minute, let me look this one up -- "Edgar" remarks about Richard Roman's unfortunate nickname before answering with a simple, "Yes?"
Michigan. Kevin Tran snaps awake at the sound of a voice mail his Type-A Tiger Mother is just now leaving him, and to his horror, he realizes he's slept on his floor in the middle of all that broken glass for about fourteen hours, thereby missing the SAT he doesn't need to take because it's May of his senior year, for Christ's sake. And just as I'm about to wonder why the hell Tiger Mom wouldn't have noticed the fact that her pride and joy spent the entire night unconscious on the floor in the ruins of his bedroom, Tiger Mom babbles something about her flight back to Michigan that evening, so I return my focus to Kevin's mad scramble to get out the door and salvage what little remains of his mostly-wasted morning. Unfortunately for Kevin, just as he's about to bolt from his room, an afterimage of Our Intrepid Heroes' intricately-carved rock flashes through his brain, and all of his frantic flailing grinds to a halt as he stands, practically paralyzed, in the center of his room while his eyes once again glow white.
Warehouse. Dashing El Deano rises from his own little floor nap to find Darling Sammy already deploying his mad Googling skillz on the laptop at the table, all the while listening to a radio report detailing the aftereffects of last night's "continent-wide storm system that appeared seemingly out of nowhere" to blanket "a good part of the nation in freak lightning displays." As the anonymous reporter details power outages stretching from Cape Cod in the east all the way back to the Cascades in the west, Dean slumps over to the abandoned warehouse's still-working sink to splash some water on his face, and he's about to say something to Sam when a battered tin cup resting on a nearby shelf rattles a couple of inches to the left. "Bobby?" Dean calls out. "Is that you?" "Think so," Sam opines, holding up his trusty little EMF reader, which obligingly offers us all a mighty "VWEEEE-YORP!" before falling back into silence. "But that whole adventure at Roman's seems to have drained his batteries," Sam notes, thereby confirming the fact that Jim Beaver will not be appearing in tonight's episode. And with that bit of business thus so efficiently taken care of, the boys get to chatting about the "heavyweight signs and omens" that erupted after Dashing El Deano chopped open the Leviathan's chunk of prehistoric clay the evening. Seems that in addition to the continent-wide electrical storm, "every maternity ward within a hundred-mile radius" of South Chicago "got slammed" when "every woman in the last month of her pregnancy went into labor." Fun! Also, despite Darling Sammy's best efforts, he's not been able to find a match for the script so intricately carved on that black rock of theirs, so Our Intrepid Heroes decide to hole up in Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead deep within the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains until they can figure out how to decipher the thing.
Just then, however, Darling Sammy's cell rings. "What?" he snaps after eying the caller ID. "What up, Bullwinkle?" Meg smiles on the other end of the line. "Just a little FYI call," she continues, adding, "Your boy's awake." Sam immediately switches over to speakerphone so Dean might demand, "When?" "Last night about eight," Meg replies. "And you waited 'til now to tell us?" Dean howls. "I've been busy," Meg shrugs, all nonchalant and such. "He's just a tad different than when he dozed off," she warns, referring of course to My Sweet Baboo. "What do you mean?" Dean asks. "Guess what?" Meg smirks, preparing to get all meta on our collective ass. "I'm not a nurse -- just playing one on TV." She ends the call with a curt, "You want answers? Start driving!" and with that, Our Intrepid Heroes prepare to pack for the quick hop across the state line.
Somewhere else, a jittery Kevin Tran speeds through the night in the car he apparently stole from his parents, freaking out over the random flashes he keeps receiving of Our Intrepid Heroes' intricately-carved rock until Vaguely Insulting Overachieving Asian-American Stereotype: Female Version calls to wonder what gives. Addled Kevin replies with a series of apparent non-answers that basically boil down to "I'm on a mission from God!" before hanging up to hang a right into this evening's first CHOMP!-less commercial break. Or, you know, onto the westbound lanes of U.S. Route 30. Your choice.
Funny Farm. Our Intrepid Heroes arrive to have Meg escort them into My Sweet Baboo's room, where they find the recently-awakened angel standing at the window, staring out into the night while sporting his signature beige trench coat over his nuthouse-issued pajamas. "Hey!" Dashing El Deano awkwardly opens. Castiel returns the greeting with an uncanny sense of serenity, after which he points a finger in Dean's direction. "Pull my finger," My Sweet Baboo suggests, a slight smile passing across his exceptionally pretty face. "Um. What?" Dean more or less replies. "My finger," Castiel prompts. "Pull it." Dean hesitates, shooting a couple of wary side-eyes at Sam and Meg as he does so, but he eventually complies. Instantly, the overhead fluorescents shatter and crash to the linoleum, plunging the room into darkness. Heh. My Delightfully Devious Baboo giggles while Sam and Dean gape and goggle at him for a very long period of time, after which we...
...jump forward a bit to find out What's Up With Castiel. "So," Sam begins, "you're saying you remember who you are?" "Of course," Castiel replies before veering off on an overly-earnest and wide-eyed tangent like so: "Outside today? In the garden? I followed a honeybee." Dean frowns as Castiel continues, amazed, "I saw the route of flowers! It's all right there -- the whole plan! There's nothing to add!" "You might want to add a little Thorazine," Sam deadpans. Heh. "I know, right?" Meg agrees, adding, "He's been like the naked guy at the rave ever since he woke up." My Whacked-Out Baboo zonks something about Meg's delightfully gorgeous "thorny pain" for a bit, and the two banter with each other until Darling Sammy calls them both back to the issue at hand by presenting Castiel with that intricately-carved rock of theirs. My Instantly Understanding Baboo's all, "A-ha! If someone was going to free The Word from the vault of the earth, it would end up being you two!" "I love you guys!" Castiel kvells, and he lugs them into a tight hug for a moment until Sam finally manages to break away and wonder, "You said something about 'The Word'? Is that what's written on there?" "Did you know a cat's penis is sharply barbed along the shaft?" Castiel non-sequiturs by way of reply before leaning in to confide, "I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that!" This naturally freaks Our Intrepid Heroes right the hell out, and as they shudder quietly to themselves, Castiel examines the intricately-carved rock's fussy script to realize, "This is the handwriting of Metatron!" Dimwit Sammy momentarily confuses God's official celestial scribe with some piece-of-crap children's toy until the conversation somehow wanders its way back to its point, which is this: Castiel can't read Metatron's handwriting, as "it wasn't meant for angels." Meg lunges for the intricately-carved stone for a little look-see of her own, and this leads to a tussle with Dean over the thing that ends when a freshly conflict-averse Castiel flutters the hell on out of there, allowing the intricately-carved stone to drop to the floor, where it promptly shatters into three pieces. D'OH!
With My Sweet Baboo thus vanished from the scene, Dashing El Deano fusses and fumes and rants and raves until Meg calmly informs him that Castiel's likely gone no farther than the nuthouse dayroom, whereupon Dean clompy-stomps on out of there to fetch his Heavenly boyfriend, leaving Darling Sammy and Meg alone to talk amongst themselves. The chit-chat quickly degenerates into a pissy little bitchfight that leads them out into the hall until forest noises erupt from Castiel's room, where they'd conveniently left the shattered Metatron stone. The two of course immediately retrace their steps, only to find the stone gone. D'OH!
Out on the nuthouse lawn, Addled Kevin races back to his stolen car, Sam's stone-containing bag clutched tightly against his chest.
Nuthouse Dayroom. Dean enters to find Castiel sitting all by his lonesome at one of the tables. Dean sighs.
Nuthouse Lawn. Darling Sammy chases Addled Kevin around in circles, and no, I don't know how Sam immediately knew to look for an addled Asian teenager out on the nuthouse lawn, and in fact, I don't know how that addled Asian teenager was able to break into Castiel's upper-storey room to snatch the Metatron stone in the first place, but whatever. Long story short, Meg eventually biffs Addled Kevin in the face and, upon realizing he's "not a demon or a chomper," she and Sam commence with the interrogation. "What the hell are you?" Meg demands. "I'm Kevin Tran!" Addled Kevin replies. "I'm in advanced placement! Don't kill me!" "I'm not gonna kill you," Sam eyerolls, hauling Addled Kevin to the latter's feet, and there follows an amusing little bit of business wherein The Ginormotron tries and fails repeatedly to yank his stone-containing bag out of wee bitty Addled Kevin's arms. "I'm sorry!" Addled Kevin nearly sobs. "I don't know why, but I can't let go of this!" Meg and Sam exchange a few Looks Fraught With Significance until everyone on the screen drops into this evening's CHOMP!-less commercial break.
Nuthouse Dayroom. Dashing El Deano approaches My Uncannily Serene Baboo and takes a seat opposite him at the table. "You realize you just broke God's Word?" Dean asks. Conflict-Averse Castiel averts his eyes. Dean sighs and mentions the ongoing Leviathan threat before grumping, "Do you remember what you did?" referring, of course, to events detailed way back during this season's long-ago premiere. Castiel quietly picks up a handy and remarkably appropriate board game to display its title by way of reply: "SORRY!" Cute, guys. Real cute. My Sweet Baboo then shakes the box once, and instantly, the contents appear on the table between them, already set up for play. "Do you want to go first?" Castiel too-innocently asks. Dean glares.
Meanwhile, back upstairs, Meg and Sam continue to pepper Addled Kevin with questions the wayward teen is utterly incapable of answering. Eventually, Sam instructs the kid to open the bag, and when Addled Kevin instinctually pieces the shattered Metatron stone back together, the thing magically fuses itself whole again. DUN!
Dayroom. "You know," Castiel begins, trying to be all conversational and such, "we weren't sure which monkeys were gonna make it." As Dean selects a card from the pile and shifts his pieces around the board in an obvious effort to humor his angelic boyfriend, that angelic boyfriend continues, "No offense, but I was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was just amazing -- it's in perfect tune with the spheres!" "But in the end," Castiel shrugs, drawing a card of his own, "it was you -- you guys ate the apple, invented pants..." "Is there a fucking point to all this, you lunatic?" Dean more or less interrupts. Castiel continues to reply cryptically, freely using the game as a metaphor for the larger issues at hand, and it's a nice little scene between the two of them -- I've really missed the way Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins play off each other this year -- but Dean eventually loses all patience and, with one sweeping gesture, he knocks the board and all its pieces to the floor to shout, "Forget the damn game!" Castiel drops his crazy head and whispers, "I'm sorry." "No," Dean realizes, "you're playing sorry!" and from that absolutely mind-blowing revelation, we head back...
...upstairs, where Addled Kevin's just now beginning to pick out a couple of words and phrases from Metatron's fussy script. "You can read it?" Sam gasps. "Sort of," Addled Kevin admits, noting, "It hurts a little -- like looking through somebody else's glasses -- but I think it's about Leviathan? How it came to be?" There's a little more babbling from the kid along those lines until Darling Sammy cuts to the chase to demand, "Does it say anything about how to kill them?" "I don't know!" Addled Kevin whines, complaining, "It's hard to focus on it too long!" and just as an increasingly peeved Meg looks like she's about to smack the holy living crap out of the obnoxious little brat, her Spidey-sense starts to tingle, flipping her eyes beetle-black as she realizes, "Something's up." The room's lights start buzzing and blinking and flickering on and off, seemingly of their own accord, as Addled Kevin gets a glimpse of Meg's bitterly black demonic eyes and freaks. Fortunately, there's little time to be devoted to that, as a blonde-haired angel has just fluttered into the doorway from points unknown to seethe, "Demon!" in Meg's general direction, and no sooner has the word left the angel's lips than she flips a bit of telekinetic mojo that sends Meg practically crashing through the wall.
Downstairs, My Sweet Baboo stops retrieving game pieces from the floor long enough to go all spacey and dizz, "Sam! He's talking to angels!" Dashing El Deano's response to this bit of unexpected news is, I'm sure, extreme, but we unfortunately don't get a chance to witness it, as the camera wastes little time knocking us back...
...upstairs, where the angel lady's just now sneering, "A demon whore and a Winchester, again!" Oooh! Buuuurn! Darling Sammy moves to cross to Addled Kevin's side, prompting the angel lady to shout, "Step away from The Prophet!" Sam instantly gets this hilarious "Whaaaaaaaaaaa?" look on his face as Addled Kevin blurts something stupid, after which the angel lady glances at her male companion I haven't bothered to mention yet before intoning, "Sole Keeper Of The Word On Earth, we are here to take you!" Addled Kevin of course is all, "Um, take me where?" but that's not important right now because what is important right now is the angel lady's command to her colleague to smite "the demon and her lover," now. DUN! The still-silent colleague raises a hand to sear the bitterly black cloud of demonic goo clear out of Meg's Vessel, but at the last instant, she slashes at the colleague's palm with an Angel-Smiting Scimitar she's just now pulled out of her ass, and generalized consternation abounds in the tiny little room until My Sweet Baboo flutters on in with a beatific smile on his face.
"Castiel?" the gentleman angel swoons, so surprised is he that My Sweet Baboo lives. "You!" the angel lady bristles, not nearly as overjoyed as her colleague is by this development, and barely has Castiel had a chance to greet this "Hester" by name when she advances upon him, snarling, "You smote thousands in Heaven, you gave a big scary speech, and then you were gone? What the hell was that?" "Rude, for one thing," Castiel admits, getting all sweetly and adorably apologetic before trying to win Hester and "Anaias" over with his little finger trick from earlier. Unfortunately, neither Hester nor Anaias is in the mood to play, and just when things are about to get ugly, Dashing El Deano materializes in the doorway to activate the bloody Angel-B-Gon sigil he'd sneakily smeared onto the hallway wall, sending all three of the Heavenly beings flying off somewhere else for now. The boys plus Meg proceed to chat about their options at the moment until Addled Kevin starts screaming, "WHAT'S HAPPENING?" over and over again over in the tight little corner he'd crawled into during the above insanity and, after Darling Sammy makes with the appropriate introductions, this evening's third CHOMP!-less commercial break comes on little cat feet to snatch Addled Kevin away.
Nuthouse. Aftermath. Our Intrepid Heroes finish bringing Addled Kevin up to speed on angels and Leviathans and such, after which Dean inquires as to the message contained on the Metatron stone. Addled Kevin babbles that the inscription seems to translate into "an in-case-of-emergency note," then blurts, "What did they mean by 'Prophet'?" "Oh, no," Dean sighs. "Really?" "That's what the angel said," Sam shrugs. Chat about the overall undesirability of that particular job title ensues until Meg rather impatiently reminds them that they're on the angels' radar now, and could they possibly go hide someplace safe, maybe? Dean decides they'll all hole up in Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead deep within the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains until this angel-related unpleasantness blows over, and with that, Our Intrepid Heroes plus Meg plus Addled Kevin plus The Metatron Stone take to...
...this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash, which speeds off into the rain-streaked night until it reaches...
..."Al's Mini-Mart," somewhere appropriately remote. Various mini-mart-related activities quite naturally ensue, but these are the two that matter: Darling Sammy catches a news item regarding Addled Kevin's disappearance on the store's flat-screen TV, and Meg spots a pair of demonically-enhanced truckers loitering out by the pumps. "Oh, crap!" Meg moans.
Moments later, Darling Sammy fills Dashing El Deano in on the details of the news story he just watched while Meg too-innocently wanders back over to this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash from the brief little confab she so obviously engaged in with those demonically-enhanced truckers. The three climb back into the car alongside the sleeping Addled Kevin, and then it's...
...back on the road for some more nighttime driving along rain-streaked back highways. Addled Kevin finally wakes up to complain about his miserable lot in life, or whatever, but because he's devolved into nothing more than a wee bitty plot device at this point, I'm going to ignore him in favor of listening in on the tremendously amusing phone call Meg receives from My Sweet Baboo at this juncture. "I'm in a place called Perth," Castiel can be heard to state over Meg's cell. "As in Australia?" Dean growls from the front seat. Meg ignores him to ask of My Momentarily Inaudible Baboo, "What dogs?" "He says he's surrounded by unhappy dogs," Meg reports to her fellow passengers before returning to her phone to listen as Castiel frets, "They're chasing a rabbit around..." "Oh, okay!" Meg interrupts before telling the others, "He's at a dog track in Perth." "I'm surrounded by large, unhappy dogs!" My Deeply Confused Baboo pouts. Heh. Meg lightly informs Castiel that the dogs are unhappy because the rabbit is fake, then passes along the current coordinates of this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash, and instantly, Castiel flutters into the back seat between Meg and Addled Kevin. Formal introductions are made, and then Castiel exposits that Hester and Anaias once served under him in their Heavenly garrison. "So, why are they pissed at us now?" Sam wonders, but Castiel has already moved on from that particular topic to murmur the following quietly horrified realization into Meg's ear: "You know, those racing dogs were miserable -- they can only think in ovals." Hee. Dean shouts at him to get back on point, and eventually, we learn that Hester and Anaias were "only following protocol." "If The Word Of God is revealed," Castiel explains, "a Keeper Of The Word will awaken," and "garrison code dictates you take The Keeper to the desert to learn The Word away from men." So, basically, Hester and Anaias will continue to chase them down because they're blindly following orders established by a God whom neither has seen in several millennia, which makes it even more important for everyone currently occupying this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash to hole up in Dead Rufus's ridiculously scenic rustic homestead deep within the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains until this angel-related unpleasantness blows over.
Dead Rufus's Ridiculously Scenic Rustic Homestead Deep Within The Lush Coastal Rainforests Of Montana's Rocky Mountains, later that evening. I guess Castiel finally remembered he could zap everybody over there immediately, because last I heard, they were somewhere on the outskirts of St. Cloud, Minnesota. But whatever. Upstairs, Darling Sammy and My Sweet Baboo busy themselves painting sigils specifically designed to ward off Hester and Anaias while Dashing El Deano escorts Addled Kevin down to the cellar to commence with The Metatron Stone's translation. Unfortunately, Addled Kevin takes one look at the cellar's massive stockpile of various demon-destroying implements and bleats, "This looks like a sex torture dungeon. Is this a sex torture dungeon?" Exasperated El Deano, who's currently wielding a rusty hand-scythe, begins to disabuse Addled Kevin of that particularly silly notion of his, then rolls his eyes and orders his skittish houseguest to get to work, pronto. Heh.
Up in the parlor, Sam and Castiel have finished with their furious bout of sigil-scrawling and now settle into a pair of chairs to wait. "You seem troubled," Castiel casually observes after a beat. "Of course," he goes on to admit, "that's a primary aspect of your personality, so I sometimes ignore it." Hee! You and me both, sweetie. You and me both. The two then launch themselves into a chat regarding The Nature Of My Sweet Baboo's Guilt And Insanity, and it's so dreadfully boring that even Meg has to slug back a shot of healing booze and bail on the whole tedious thing to go play in the surrounding woods by herself before her brain implodes from ennui. Or something like that.
Cellar. Dashing El Deano rests his weary eyes off to one side of the room while Addled Kevin diligently applies himself to The Metatron Stone's translation. Suddenly, Addled Kevin's vision goes all blurry and such, and he rises from the table to whinge some more about his miserable lot in life. Alas, Dean does not rise from his comfy seat to smack the ever-living crap out of the snot-nosed whiner, but instead wastes several precious minutes trying to talk the kid back from the edge. Of course, he succeeds, and Addled Kevin gets back to his translation. That was fucking pointless.
Elsewhere, the camera finds the apparently wayward Meg sauntering on up to a just-arriving tractor-trailer rig, the latter of which presently disgorges those demonically-enhanced truckers from three or four states ago. Of course, we're meant to believe she's more than willing to sell out both Our Intrepid Heroes and My Sweet Baboo at this point. And of course, we don't believe that at all, because we've been watching this show for seven godforsaken, never-ending years, and that's not the way things work here. So, long story short, Meg toys with these two idiots for a couple of minutes, then ganks them both with The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't, which has decided for whatever reason to work as it should this evening.
Ridiculously Scenic Rustic Homestead. Meg tiptoes into the darkened cabin through the back door, only to find herself ensnared in a massive Devil's Trap Our Intrepid Heroes chalked onto the floorboards while she was away. D'OH! Darling Sammy snaps on the lights, and then the screaming begins, with Sam and Dean accusing Meg of general perfidiousness, while Meg argues she just saved their worthless-yet-tantalizing derrieres from a couple of Crowley's goons. My Sweet Baboo steps forward at this point to confirm Meg's story by noting the presence of stranger-demons' blood on The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't Except Tonight, but the nattering doesn't end there, because Meg's got to deliver a tidy little speech detailing her personal philosophy on life first. I'm tempted to transcribe it, mainly because she claims at one point that despite all Leviathan-related appearances to the contrary, Crowley remains Our Intrepid Heroes' primary threat, but as I do believe I just managed to extract the central message of the whole thing right there, I'll skip ahead to the bit where Darling Sammy breaks the trap to free her.
"This is good!" My Sweet Baboo enthuses once Meg joins them in the center of the cabin's main room. "Harmony and communication," Castiel twinkles before brightly adding, "Now our only problem is Hester!" "Huh?" the other three pretty much gape. "Well," My Ever-Patient Baboo explains, "we were hidden from the garrison, but when you killed a demon, you put out a pretty clear beacon!" And no sooner has he finished delivering that line than the ridiculously scenic homestead's door goes flying outwards into the blackness of the night, with Hester materializing in the parlor accompanied by Anaias and two new gentleman colleagues shortly thereafter. "You took The Prophet from us?" she shrills in My Sweet Baboo's adorable face. Castiel's all, "Uh, I didn't do anything with The Prophet, actually," but Hester will not be deterred from the verbal smackdown she's obviously been itching to deliver ever since Castiel popped up into that room back at the nuthouse in Indiana. "You have fallen in every way imaginable," she fumes, wrinkling her nose in disgust. With a nod, she sends Anaias fluttering off down to the cellar to fetch Addled Kevin and The Metatron Stone, leading Dashing El Deano to plead, "Look, just give us some time -- we will take care of your Prophet." "Why should we give you anything?" Hester retorts, shifting her fury's focus from My Sweet Baboo onto Dean. "After everything you have taken from us?" she continues. "The very touch of you corrupts!" she insists, claiming, "When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!" "And for that," she vows, "you're going to pay." Hester then proceeds to menace her way over towards Dashing El Deano, but My Sweet Baboo of course intervenes, and for his trouble, he gets pimp-slapped to the cabin floor. The increasingly unhinged Hester whales on My Wimpy Baboo's pretty, pretty face for a while, screeching out things like "No more madness!" and "No more promises!" and "NO MORE NEW GODS!" until Meg sneaks up and ganks her with that Angel-Smiting Scimitar she pulled out of her ass about a half an hour ago. And when the howling and wailing are done, My Bloodied Baboo looks up at Meg to offer her little more than an almighty frowny-face by way of thanks. "Someone had to," Meg shrugs, and Castiel looks very sad indeed for a couple of moments until he disappears into this evening's final CHOMP!-less commercial break.
Ridiculously Scenic Rustic Homestead. Aftermath. Castiel declines Anaias's kind invitation to rejoin the garrison just as Addled Kevin finishes translating The Metatron Stone. Our Intrepid Heroes thank the kid kindly for his efforts, and then Anaias orders his two remaining gentleman colleagues to escort Addled Kevin back to his home, where a squad of angels will watch over him until this goddamned season finally ends. And once all of those guys have departed, and after Meg's temporary and never-explained absence is duly noted, Sam reads the following from Addled Kevin's translation: "'Leviathan cannot be slain but by a bone of a righteous mortal washed in the three bloods of the fallen.'" "A bone of a righteous mortal," huh? Dirty! Also: A typically simple and straightforward vanquish for this show, right? "It says we need to start with the blood of a fallen angel," Sam eyebrows, and My Giddy Baboo happily obliges them with a magically-appearing vial he presents to Dean. And with his work here done -- for now and only now, I hope -- Castiel flutters off towards points unknown.
Entirely Unnecessary Denouement. We've arrived back at Addled Kevin's house just ahead of Addled Kevin and his angelic escort themselves, and we watch for a bit as Tiger Mother chats with Random Local Police Official Who Is So Obviously A Leviathan until Addled Kevin and his angelic escort flutter on in from the lush coastal rainforests of Montana's Rocky Mountains. Random Local Police Official Who Is So Obviously A Leviathan promptly slaughters Addled Kevin's angelic escort, then morphs into Leviathan Edgar form to pretty much go, "Muah! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" until we finally cut to black.
Not bad, as far as these sorts of exposition-dump episodes go, but I can't shake the feeling that all of this should have happened a hell of a lot earlier in the season. In fact, they pretty much could have skipped every single installment between "Death's Door" and "Of Grave Importance," and I'm positive nobody would ever have missed any of it. Ever.
week, more late-in-the-season delays as Our Intrepid Heroes try and apparently fail to score a couple of blood vials from Crowley and that vampire guy I thought was dead. Have fun!
Demian just wants this season over with already. 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 back in mid-January.
Demian just wants this season over with already. 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 back in mid-January.