Our Intrepid Heroes have barely finished burying the corpse of Show Barnes -- and no, I don't know why they didn't salt and burn her remains, so stop asking me -- when they're accosted by Uriel and my sweet baboo, who intend to tap into the torturing expertise Dashing El Deano acquired during his many years in Hell in order to figure out who's been slaughtering other angels from their "garrison." You see, that magnificent and quite beautifully timed lightning bolt from last week's episode did not, in fact, reduce Fake Brando to a tiny little pile of ash as we all hoped it had. Nope, it simply whisked him off to an actual slaughterhouse -- yes, I know -- another part of Wyoming, where Uriel and Castiel proceeded to ensnare the demon in a devil's trap of truly marvelous proportions in the hopes of beating the demonic culprit's name out of he whom they believe to be the minion's master, and it's to this undisclosed location that they also whisk Our Intrepid Hero when the latter flat-out refuses to do their bidding.
What follows amounts to little more than a seemingly endless game of psychological chicken between Dean and Fake Brando, and the only things that make it watchable are the copious amounts of blood and guts Alastair spills all over the slaughterhouse floor. Well, that, and Jensen Ackles's performance, especially the moment when Alastair reveals that Dean himself actually set The Apocalypse in motion during Dean's lengthy sojourn down below. Turns out convincing a "righteous man" to torture his fellow souls was the first of Lilith's much-desired sixty-six seals, and capital-F Fate decreed that righteous man would be Dean, which explains why Lilith and her various minions refused to release Dean from the deal he made nearly two years ago. And in the end, as Dean lies broken and battered on a hospital bed after deceitful Uriel allowed the demon to escape the trap in order to beat Our Intrepid Hero to a bloody pulp, it falls to Castiel to explain that the righteous man who started it all is also the only one who can stop it, so Dean must pull himself together for the sake of humanity, and it's all very depressing indeed, what with The Stumpy Little Bow-Legged Lamb Of God all, "Let this cup pass from me!" and My Sweet Baboo all, "Sorry, dude," and not one, but two manly tears dropping from Dean's wasted eyes, and I think I'll go kill myself now.
Oh, that bit about deceitful Uriel? Yeah, over the last few thousand years, he's come to agree with Lucifer's views regarding the pathetic human race, and not only has he been actively subverting and undermining Castiel throughout the season because he wants all of us wiped off the face of creation, he's also responsible for the angelic deaths that started this entire episode in the first place. Seems he was offing those of his garrison who were happy leaving Lucifer where he is, but he does get his, though, in the end, for Anna's back -- looking as gaunt and skeletal as ever -- and she manages to rip his angelic neck out. Or something like that.
Meanwhile, Darling Sammy's turned into a vampire, but the good news? Fake Brando's dead, and for real this time. Hooray!
Rattle, Rattle BLOOD-RED THEN! As there's absolutely no attempt at narrative in the THEN! this week, I present you with a list: Lilith, sixty-six seals, Castiel, Anna, Alastair, Uriel, Show Barnes alive, Show Barnes attacked, Dean in Hell, Dean channeling Piper Laurie, Sam screaming at Princess Embolism, Show Barnes whispering words of great import into Darling Sammy's ear, Show Barnes dead, and finally, at long last, Darling Sammy with the darting psycho crazy eyes! Hooray! And I do hope you understood the importance of each item in that list, for there's no time for questions given the imminent arrival of the...
...Slashy, Slashy NOW! Barely has the NOW! a chance to advance forward on its way to vanishing when the soundtrack's assaulted by a cacophony of car alarms of every imaginable type -- and pity the poor sound effects intern who had to dig all of those up -- as the camera fades up on the scene of what appears to be a horrific, multi-car pileup. The agonizing racket continues for a full ten seconds of screen time until a very familiar trenchcoated figure marches into the middle of the catastrophic mess and raises his left hand. Instantly, the alarms switch themselves off -- the last with that aggravating chirp-chirp noise -- and I instantly decide I'd have no problems being an angel if the job comes with that particular ability. Awesome. In any event, once the alarms are off, we can finally hear the streaming rain that'd been falling this entire time along with some thundering rumblings overhead as the camera slowly pans around from my sweet baboo's back to take in his face, and gosh, Misha Collins is pretty on a high-definition television set. Sigh. There's little time to linger on all of the masculine pulchritude available to us at this moment, however, for Castiel immediately continues his march through the wreckage, his shoes crunching across the smashed windshield glass beneath his feet, until he reaches the fresh corpse of a white-clad blonde lying on the wet asphalt and... "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, writhing about upon his overstuffed armchair with unmitigated glee, for unlike all of the various injuries in last week's depressingly gore-free installment, the gaping wound Castiel reveals at the base of the blonde's throat is positively brimming with the good stuff. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"