Our Intrepid Heroes hop into the garage to investigate the Bug, with Sam himself quickly finding more dried bloodstains on the steering wheel while Dean spots something metallic on the floormats in the back. Sam leans over to retrieve a gore-encrusted hunter's knife that pulls away from the mat with a sticky little rip. "Delicious!" shrieks Raoul, waving his paws around in the air. Gore on a Volkswagen's floormat is delicious? "I was speaking figuratively, you silly little man! I meant the sticky little ripping noise! Now get back to the recap, so I can see that gamy corpse again, already!" Oh, you had to go there, didn't you? In any event, Sam bleats, "You think I used this on someone?" Dean's choosing not to think much of anything at all at the moment, thanks, but that doesn't stop Sam from desperately wiping away any possible prints from the knife's hilt with his shirt. Meanwhile, Dean finds an open pack of menthol Silver Spur Premium Light 100s, and so jumps all over this as proof that whomever bloodied up the car could never have been Sam, for we all know Darling Sammy's a saint, and only the evilest of evil evildoers smoke cigarettes, and those who smoke menthol premium light 100s are surely destined for the lowest pit of Hell. Sam blows past all of the reasoning to push a gas receipt into Dean's face. It's from a station "a few towns over," so soon...

...Metallicar's grumbling up beside the pumps of a "Tasty Express." "Getting any goosebumps yet?" Dean asks as the boys look around. "God-this-looks-familiar déjà-vu vibes?" Negative, so they head inside to annoy the clerk, who's played by Richard Kahan, better known to me as Diana's über-geek ex-boyfriend Marco on The 4400, which means that Supernatural's about two guest appearances away from providing full off-season employment for The 4400's entire primary cast. By the way, Marco's rocking a bit of elaborate facial hair, here, and I'm mortally ashamed to note that I do not entirely disapprove. ["Nor do I. Marco's a hottie." -- Joe R] In any event, Marco takes one look at Emo Action Sammy and orders the fifteen-foot-tall freak of weepy nature out of his mini-mart, pronto. "You talkin' to him?" Dean buhs, hiking a thumb at Emo Action Sammy's remarkably broad chest. "Yeah, I'm talkin' to him," Marco sneers. "Jerk comes in yesterday -- stinking drunk -- grabs a 40 from the fridge, and starts chuggin'." "You drinkin' malt liquor?" Dean incredulously demands of Sam. "Not after he whipped the bottle at my friggin' head!" Marco snorts. "This guy?" Dean guhs, again jabbing that thumb of his at Emo Action Sammy's remarkably broad chest. "What, am I speaking Urdu?" Marco snots. Emo Action Sammy leaps forward to set in with the apologizing, but Marco's not falling for The Super-Special Puppy-Dog Eyes Of Doom and picks up the phone to call the police. Dean quickly pushes Sam out of the mini-mart to wait in the car in order to pump Marco for some information. Long story short, after basically bribing Marco with a few twenties, Dean learns that Abusive Drunken Sammy "went north, route 71, straight out of town." Dean pointedly pockets a couple of Twix bars and bangs his way out of the store.