A short time later, Metallicar grumbles up next to a crappy little Corolla parked outside Chez Dipshits. Dean confirms the Corolla's license plate matches the one caught on the storage facility's security tapes and remarks about the dipshits' dipshittery before we hop back upstairs to find...

...Wayne gloating over a particularly excellent poker hand of four kings. Given what's to come, I would have preferred aces over eights at this juncture, but I suppose they figured no one would get the reference. Because apparently we're all idiots. In any event, as Grossman affably enough deals again, Our Intrepid Heroes silently pick the back door's lock and make with the Tough Guy Jazz Hands down the hall with their weapons at the ready. No, not like that. "Dirty!" shrieks Raoul, this time shocked and appalled yet strangely excited at the same time. Filthy beast. "Hey!" Out in the living room, Wayne's nailed his second royal flush in eight hands, and is just coming to the realization that he can't lose thanks to the mangy fetish's intercession when Sam and Dean burst into the room, screaming, "Freeze!" and "Don't move!" and the like, and the wacky shenanigans may commence...now. Yep, Dean slams Wayne backwards against the wall, shouting questions while shoving his gun into the poor man's face, but the instant the mangy fetish distracts his attention, Wayne bats Dean's business hand away with enough force to send the pearl-handled automatic to the floor, where it instantly fires off a round of its own accord upon impact. That bullet ricochets first off the radiator to slam into Sam's gun, stinging it out of The Ginormotron's mighty mitt before ricocheting again to zip right past Dean's head and shatter a lamp. There quickly follows -- accompanied by some Blues Brothers-esque funky-funky keyboarding on the soundtrack -- a rapid-fire sequence of shots in which Grossman and Wayne knock the snot out of Our Intrepid Heroes, thanks mainly to the fact that Our Intrepid Heroes have been transformed into a pair of literally bumbling and bungling idiots through the mangy fetish's influence. They accidentally smack into each other and the furniture and such until, finally, If It's Thursday, Sam's Getting Choked rolls around. Yep, Grossman's straddling Darling Sammy on the floor, throttling the dear boy's remarkably healthy neck just as the rabbit's foot gets booted over to Sammy's side during the course of the separate fray between Wayne and Dean. Sam, scrabbling desperately for anything he can get his hands on to use as a weapon, latches onto the mangy thing, and in an instant, all of the good luck drains from Wayne to flow into him, and I think I've seen this one before, too. Sigh. Fucking Charmed. In any event, Our Intrepid Heroes regain the upper hand when Grossman and Wayne, through a series of fumble-footed mishaps of their own, basically knock themselves out by tripping over various items of Dean-smashed furniture and slamming their heads against the floor. By the way, in an indication of Sam's uncanny new luck, Wayne pointed the business end of Dean's pearl-handled revolver directly at Darling Sammy's remarkably healthy neck, only to have the thing jam on him. Just so you know.