In the episode's opening moments, a hunter by the name of Lee Chambers (portrayed by that eminence of Canadian television Ian Tracey, just so you know) gets himself abducted by the very truck-stop Vetalas he'd been hunting, so his fretful daughter rings up Bobby for an assist, not knowing of course that Bobby's been rotting away in the grave for the better part of a month. Darling Sammy intercepts the wee lass's plea for help and promptly decides to hit the road, but a brooding El Deano begs off -- he's become obsessed with those numbers Bobby scrawled on Sam's massive mitt right before the dear old hairball kicked it for good, you see, and he'd much rather hook up with Frank Devereaux to see what that particular bundle of paranoid psychosis has to say about them.
So, Our Intrepid Heroes split up, which is always a wonderful idea on this show, and after several pointless moments of Leviathan-related antagonism between Dean and Devereaux, Frank reveals he's discovered that Bobby's numbers point to a rather large patch of land in northern Wisconsin that had recently been acquired by Richard Roman Enterprises, Inc. The two head up to the empty field in question and find that the Leviathans have already bestrewn the place with surveillance cameras, so sly Frank taps into the Leviathans' security system and, after three straight days of monitoring the feed, eventually spots some useful information in the form of one "Amanda Willer," an efficient-looking RRE project manager who's seen ordering some underlings about the underbrush.
Meanwhile, Darling Sammy's met up with Lee's adolescent daughter, Chrissy, and she's spunky and sassy and Wise Beyond Her Years, so the dear boy does us all an immense favor by shooting her dead on the spot. No, sorry, I got that one wrong: Sam actually trails after her father and gets his enormously stupid self caught by the very same truck-stop Vetalas that so recently laid Lee low. Chrissy thus has little choice but to call Dean and, after he's pulled himself away from far more important matters, the mismatched duo motor on up to wherever and save Sam and Lee by impaling the Vetalas on a couple of silver knives. Naturally, fist-bumps and hugs abound in the wake of this particular success, but the episode ends with both Sam and Dean sliding back into their collective Bobby-related funk as they peel on off towards their next adventure. Words cannot begin to describe how boring it all was.
Rattle, Rattle WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE ROAD SO FAR! As REO Speedwagon's "Ridin' The Storm Out" kicks in on the soundtrack, we plunge into an incredibly lengthy -- like, a-full-minute-and-a-half-of-screentime lengthy -- review of the season thus far, which seems a trifle excessive. I mean, is there anyone left watching this show now who hasn't been watching it since the premiere back in September? Do we few -- we miserable few, we band of masochists -- really need reminders of Castiel and the Leviathans and Lucifer and Crowley and this show's version of The Fox Sisters at this point? Yeah, no. So, long story short, the first half of this season happened, and it all ended with Bobby dropping dead in a hospital bed in Hammonton, New Jersey, but not before the dear old hairball biffed his final earthly task by scrawling "45489" on Darling Sammy's gigantic mitt instead of "454895" like he was supposed to. Oh, Bobby!
Rattle, Rattle STILL NOT GIVING A SHIT NOW! And when the dripping is done, the camera fades up on a nighttime truck-stop parking lot to linger for a moment on the lissome lady of the evening now coyly plying her trade out by the rigs before it retreats a bit to swing through the stop's diner, where it lands upon that ragged-looking eminence of British Columbian television, Ian Tracey, just as his waitress stops by to refill his cup of coffee. "You been here a couple nights in a row, now," the waitress observes, giving Ian Tracey the eye. "I like the ambiance," Ian Tracey jokes with a light shrug of his shoulders before returning his attention to that lissome lass outside, the latter of whom is just now drawing a bulbous trucker away from the bright lights of the diner's portico and over towards a considerably dimmer and decidedly more private area of the lot. Waitress Marlene begins to ask if Ian Tracey will be needing anything else this evening, but he's already on his feet and headed for the door in order to give chase, though not before inadvertently gifting us all with a glimpse of the massive hunting knife he's got strapped to his waistband as he hurriedly scrounges around in his jeans pocket for a tip. "Keep safe out there!" Marlene calls out after his disappearing form, and with that, we head out into...