...The Only Hospital In San Francisco, because he's learned his lesson, or something, and he needs to take care of that insufferable brat before Tessa zaps him back to the lush coastal rainforests of southeastern South Dakota. And so, he steps over to the brat's bed and touches her hand, and by the time he's turned back to Tessa, The Spectral Brat is at The Reaper's side. The Dead Brat's father of course freaks out, calling out his daughter's name, and in case any of you care, that name is "Hilary." The rapidly cooling corpse of The Dead Brat does not respond to the crash team's attempts at CPR, and The Spectral Brat, watching all of this from the opposite side of the room, whimpers, "I'm dead?" Yes, honey, and it's about goddamned time, too. "But why?" she moans. Dimwit El Deano hunkers down at her side and explains, "Because there's a natural order to things." The Spectral Brat takes that one in, then pouts, "Natural order is stupid!" Not as stupid as this goddamned episode, you repugnant little shrew. Tessa gently leads The Spectral Brat away, leaving Dimwit El Deano alone with his thoughts. Such as they are.
Bobby's Emporium, and let's wrap this nonsense up quickly, shall we? "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Excellent. Long story short, Stupid Sammy's got Bobby tied up in the basement, and Bobby's pleas for his life fall on deaf ears until Dimwit El Deano pops up from out of nowhere to beat Stupid Sammy like a redheaded stepchild. Because Stupid Sammy still -- still -- suh-huuuuuucks at the hand-to-hand, Dimwit El Deano quickly subdues him, and a mightily relieved Bobby pants his hairy ass all the way into the next METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Bobby's Emporium. Aftermath. The gentleman of the house and his stumpy little bow-legged houseguest have once again locked The Ginormotron in the panic room, and we can see that Stupid Sammy is once again manacled to that nasty-ass cot. Bobby and Dimwit El Deano bitch about the particulars of their current situation for a bit until Stupid Sammy wakes up on that cot and tosses his faithless brother a supremely hairy eyeball through the panic room's peephole. Dean, fingering Death's ring, retreats to the first floor, where he finds...Capital-D Death, sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a bacon dog and beer! D'OH! Also: Mmmm. Bacon dogs. In any event, Capital-D Death politely invites Dimwit El Deano to join him, so Dean takes a chair, and the central point of the lengthy conversation that follows is this: "Today," Death tells Dean, "you got a hard look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order is not quite such fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it? You throw away your life because you've come to assume that it will bounce right back into your lap." Death leans in to speak what follows almost directly into Dean's ear, "The human soul is not a rubber ball -- it's vulnerable and impermanent, but stronger than you know, and more valuable than you can imagine."