A quick cut indoors, and Our Intrepid Heroes pick their way through the wrecked first floor of the place, bits of glass from the splintered cabinets popping beneath their boots. After a bit of flashlight-fu, they find the by-now-long-cooled corpse of the home's apparent owner in one of the back rooms. Dean flips the corpse onto its back, and as the skin on its face rips away from a pool of congealed blood on the carpet, the deep, jagged cut through its neck gapes open. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Raoul shrieks, writhing around in his overstuffed armchair with positively dizzying amounts of glee. Even better? The corpse has apparently already started to smell, for Dean now hitches his breath and draws a hand to his face to block the scent. "Wheeeeee!" Raoul squeals. "They simply must start airing this show in glorious Odorama! Nothing beats the delectable scent of a three-day-old corpse, I can assure you!" Raoul's scaring me again. Meanwhile, dreary Emo Action Sammy towers above the scene, pouting, "Dean, I did this!" "We don't know that!" Dean retorts immediately, still in the throes of denial. "What else do you need?" Emo Action Sammy yells. "How else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood?" "I don't know, man!" Dean shouts back, still kneeling at the corpse's side. "Why don't you tell me?" And here's where a bunch of little non-verbal things that Jared Padalecki pulls throughout the evening first get interesting. Sam purses his lips and shoots his suddenly narrowed eyes from the corpse to Dean's face, almost as if he's about to comply with his brother's request, but then remains silent for whatever reason instead. Dean takes a moment, then looks back at the corpse to fluster, "Look, even if you did do this, I'm sure you had a reason." Behind Dean's back, Sam glares with irritation, shooting rays of death at Dean's head before darting his eyes to his left with an "I can't believe I'm related to this fucking idiot" smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth while Dean continues babbling, "You know, self-defense, he was a bad son of a bitch -- something!" Dean then pats down the corpse's pockets, unfortunately finding no identification. Sam, meanwhile, has refocused his attention on a set of closed closet doors, and demands Dean's lock-pick. He soon enough slides the doors open to reveal an arsenal of guns and knives and implements of mass destruction worthy of Metallicar's bottomless trunk. Dean whoas, "Either this guy's The Unabomber..." "...or a hunter," Sam finishes for him, sweeping his eyes past the various charts and demonologies pinned to the closet's walls. "Dean, I think I killed a hunter," Sam whispers. Dean whips around to scan the room's ceiling, quickly landing upon yet another blinking security camera. "Let's find out," he grunts, and before you know it, we're...
Episode Report CardDemian: A | 1133 USERS: B-
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