Santana's cover of "Oye Como Va" cha-chas onto the soundtrack as the scene shifts to Bobby's Emporium deep within the lush coastal rainforests of central South Dakota, where The Fabulous Ellen Harvelle is challenging My Sweet Baboo to a drinking contest, Marion Ravenwood-style. "Hi, Ellen!" Raoul shrieks, once more dizzily waving at the television screen for, in accordance with his earlier initial encounter with Jo, he's still dim enough to believe the tiny little people in the television set will wave back at him and he remains uninformed as to the Harvelles' ultimate fate later this evening. "WHAT?!" Never you mind, Raoul. Now, why don't you take a hint from Miss Ellen up there on the screen and go whip up a batch of something soothing? "Do you really think that's an appropriate course of action at so early a juncture!?" I think you'll need it. "Okay!" Again: Love it when he makes it so easy for me.

So, as Raoul toddles off to his den, Castiel slams down enough tequila to choke Jeff Conaway, much to the amusement of the Harvelles, who apparently insisted he finish five shots for every single shot Miss Ellen had herself. Hee. "I think I'm starting to feel something," My Sweet Baboo earnestly states, clearly not feeling anything at all. Jo gapes. Heh.

Over at an arcana-strewn desk, Our Intrepid Heroes bang their heads together over a couple of beers of their own as part of a processing summit. Sam thinks the whole Carthage thing might be a trap, but Dean points out that the area's been "lit up like a Christmas tree with Revelation omens" and that six missing persons have been reported in town "since Sunday." Given the likelihood Lucifer is indeed present in southwestern Missouri, Dean believes it best Sam remain at Bobby's, for what I hope are obvious reasons. Sam, of course, objects strenuously, and insists, "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together." Dean's about to say something when he notices Jo's shapely derriere disappearing into Bobby's kitchenette, so Our Intrepidly Horny Hero cuts short the processing summit in favor of getting some. No, seriously. No. Seriously. I'd transcribe the ridiculousness that follows, I'm sure, but I'd like to make it to Carthage before I die, and besides, we all know she turns him down, right?