... and into Sam and Dean's motel room. The brothers gape at this man in a bright blue suit who has just fallen out of their closet. "Which of you is John Winchester?" he asks. Sam and Dean trade befuddled looks. Supernatural!
"Please, time is of the essence," he says once the fiery title card has faded from view. "Which of you is John Winchester?" he asks again. "Uh, neither," says Sam. Henry can't quite believe what he's hearing and wonders what he did wrong. He realizes his nose is bleeding a bit and wipes it away. "Who the hell are you, mister?" Dean asks. When Henry doesn't answer, Dean shoves him up against the nearest wall and pins him there. This display of violence has Henry all in a tizzy. "Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me?" Dean backs down just a bit. Henry apologizes for what he thinks must be a terrible mistake and tries to take his leave. Dean slaps a pair of handcuffs on him, but Henry not only wriggles free, he also simultaneously trades places with Sam and Dean. "How'd he do that?" Dean asks, staring at their bound wrists.
Outside, Henry faces what must look like a horribly dystopian future. Sleek cars, noisy music, pollution, men with babies strapped to their chests -- will the horrors never end? He lays his eyes on the Impala and its license plate stickers. "2013! My God!" He thinks about it for a second. "Guess the Mayans were wrong." After a quick look around to make sure no one's looking, he smashes the Impala's window with his elbow. That bastard. Dean, having finally freed himself of the cuffs, is none too happy either. He points a gun at the would-be car thief. "Nice taste in wheels," he says. Hilariously, Sam runs over and opens the door on the other side, which was blatantly unlocked all along. Henry was too busy coming up with that Mayan joke to notice.