Supernatural
Blade Runners

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In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

THEN! The Winchesters met their time-traveling grandpa one fateful day last season. Grandpa told them about this spiffy little club he belonged to called the Men of Letters, which was kind of a highbrow deal where brainiacs gathered all the supernatural knowledge of the world while wearing fancy robes. He was a bit distraught to learn that his grandsons were lowly hunters instead of respectable nerds. He also learned that all but one of the Men of Letters (two, if you count Grandpa) died the day he left 1958 behind. They visited the phony grave of a member named Albert Magnus and discovered that this was an alias used by the Men of Letters. In more recent storylines, Crowley became addicted to human blood, because why not? Dean grew a gingery sort of beard, also because why not? Together, he and Crowley went looking for the First Blade so that they could use it to kill Abaddon. This involved Dean fighting a bunch of demons and impressing Cain (of "Cain and Abel" fame) enough to receive the Mark once bestowed on him by Lucifer. Without the Mark, the blade was useless except maybe as a paperweight. Also? Cain threw the blade into the deepest part of the ocean some hundred years ago, so it was up to Crowley to go looking for it, because demons apparently can do that kind of thing.

NOW! Dean paces around the Lair O' Letters while Sam browses the Internet for a story about Cain and Abel. Dean calls Crowley for the thousandth time and gets his voicemail for the thousandth time. "I'm too busy inflicting pain to answer," the recorded Crowley says. "It's not like he has a social life," Dean grumbles. "Are you actually worried?" Sam asks. I think he may have gotten a very slight hair trim and maybe an auburn rinse. Dean grumbles some more: "The guy's got one job: find the First Blade and bring it back. How hard could it be?" Technically, isn't that two jobs? Also, the Marianas Trench is 1500 miles long! That may be "going to the convenience store" miles for the Impala, but it's another thing entirely where the ocean floor is concerned.

Dean plays back the only message he's gotten from Crowley. "Dean... um... meh, muh, bluh? Bluhhhh!" Sam hears this and asks, "Did he drunk dial you?" He seems to find this amusing, but Dean just looks embarrassed. He calls Crowley again.

On a nightstand in some unidentified hotel room, Crowley's phone rings. His caller ID lets him know that "Not Moose" is calling. Heh. Crowley falls onto the bed, sweaty and red-faced, clad in black satin pajamas. "Lola," he says. A woman pops up beside him, wearing more make-up than clothes. "My King," she greets him. "My apr├Ęs-consummation treat," he says, like he's ordering off a room service menu. Lola slinks across the room to the closet, in which a pale, skinny man in a filthy undershirt has been bound and gagged. She takes one of those gigantic, old-fashioned syringes of which the show seems particularly fond and draws some blood from her involuntary donor. She slinks back across the room, giving us a full view of her lacy thigh-highs and bra ensemble. Did she and Crowley have fully clothed sex? You'd think demons would be less prudish than that. "Pantry's almost empty," Lola notes. "You should add that to your to-do list," Crowley says. He takes the syringe from her and injects himself in the forearm. He shivers and sighs, then falls back onto the bed in a high. "Lola, pet, I do believe I'm ravenous." She bows with a little flourish...

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