...The Sandpiper, which happens to be a ramshackle wood-frame dive bar perched on the end of a dock. And inside the bar, shooing away the few remaining end-of-night customers? Jo Harvelle. "So nice to see she's moved up in the world since last we saw her," Raoul remarks before getting all giggly and shrieking, "NOT!" As one last laggard patron scurries for the exit, a fifteen-foot-tall shadow of annihilation enters the foreground of the shot and clears its throat. "Sorry, we're closed!" Jo calls out, never once looking back at the looming portent of doom behind her. Evil Action Sammy finally emerges into the dim light of the bar proper and asks, "How about just one for the road?" Jo whips her hair around to look at him, decidedly nonplussed about the whole thing. "You're about the last person I'd expect to see," she offers by way of a greeting. Evil Action Sammy takes a half-dozen small, deliberate steps forward to shrug, "Well, I guess I'm full of surprises." By the way, a heavily vibrating bass line's been grinding away on the soundtrack beneath all of this, and it's at this point a gentleman's voice joins it to begin the song proper, but I'll be damned if I can figure out the name of the band playing it. It sounds a lot like Nick Cave, but I could just still have Wings Of Desire on the brain after last week's dreadfully boring episode. In any event, Evil Action Sammy wonders if he could get that beer. Jo agrees, albeit a bit frostily, and disappears behind the bar. And in one of many, many moments I love from Jared Padalecki tonight, Evil Action Sammy offers her a pleasant-enough smirk until the instant she's vanished, at which point the smile completely dies on his face and he rolls his eyes a tiny bit, all, "You stupid, stupid bottle-blonde bitch." The Ginormotron then plonks himself down on a bar stool, likely for the simple reason that, had he not done so at this juncture, he'd be completely dwarfing Alona Tal when she returns to slam the beer down in front of him. Seriously, it's the only time they're in the same plane of the same shot during the entire scene, and even sitting down, he's still half a foot taller than she is. He so big. Sigh.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah: Jo's all surly and snappish about Sam just showing up at her new place of employment, so Evil Action Sammy makes use of The Super-Special Puppy-Dog Eyes Of Pleading And Doom to note, "I kinda wanted to see if we could square things," as he strips off his unfortunate corduroy jacket, and now I'm staring at the way his sky-blue shirt's struggling mightily to contain that remarkably broad frame of his, and I will never make it through this episode alive, will I?! "Deep breaths, Demian dear," Raoul sagely counsels. "Deep breaths." Whew. Okay. Thanks. So, yeah. The scene. Eagle-eyed Jo spots a suspicious and fresh burn on the inside of Sam's otherwise remarkably healthy forearm and eyebrows, "That looks like it hurts." Evil Action Sammy shoots his eyes between the mark and Jo for a minute before too-easily joking, "Nah, I just had a run-in with a hot stove." Jo clearly doesn't believe him, but plays along with it for now, choosing instead to icily inquire after that whole squaring thing. Evil Action Sammy proceeds to offer an apologia for Daddy Shut Up, admitting his late father was obsessive about hunting to the point where he didn't care whom he hurt along the way, Jo's father included. "But that was my father," Evil Action Sammy insists, pleading with Those Eyes Of His, "that's not me." Jo takes that in with a curt nod and asks, "What about Dean?" Evil Action Sammy, taken a bit aback, begins explaining Dean's worldview, or whatever, but that's not important, because he just now notices Jo's little twitch of annoyance and dismissal, correctly interprets it as a physical manifestation of her utter lack of interest in Sam and continuing devotion to Dean, and drops the Captain Empathy act entirely to snort, "Boy! You're really carrying a torch for him, aren't you?" Jo feigns shock and indignation. "I'll take that as a yes," Evil Action Sammy notes, a devilish glint hitting his eyes as the corners of his mouth creep up into a smirk. And our poor Darling Sammy has apparently been possessed by a rabid internet Deangirl for this evening's festivities, for he then vomits up straight into her face every single Jo-related complaint I've ever read from them on the boards over the last eight months. Well, okay, maybe not all of them, but he does cover the "little sister" thing and the "schoolgirl" thing and the "romance is just out of the question" thing, and that's enough for me. Shut up, Evil Action Deangirl. I have to put up with you on the boards. You leave my show the hell alone.