Shortly afterwards, Our Intrepid Heroes plus My Sweet Baboo head out to the shack's front yard, where they find Meg And The Minions already waiting for them. Castiel and Meg trade insults and leering propositions until Dean tells them to simmer down, and then Sam and Meg trade insults and leering propositions until Sam demands she hand over The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't, and guess what? "What?!" It actually works this time around! "Whee!" Yeah, remember that minion who made sure to give Sam and Dean the hairy eyeball way back about eight scenes ago? "I do not!" I haven't actually been talking to you, Raoul, but you should probably know that Sam sticks the guy like a pig. "VIOLENCE! WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT MINION-STICKING VIOLENCE!" And then the minion howls and wails and zots and sizzles and eventually drops to the ground, dead. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Meg And The Remaining Minions are all, "The fuck you do that for, asshole?" so Sam cites his Super-Exclusive Soulless Spidey-Sense and claims he knew the now-dead minion was going to screw everything up, because the now-dead minion wanted Sam and Dean's blood spilled much more than he wanted Crowley's. For whatever stupid reason, this explanation mollifies Meg And The Remaining Minions, and everyone agrees to hit the road in one hour, despite the fact that demons and angels can teleport, which means they shouldn't be wasting their goddamned time on the fucking road in a car, for Christ's sweet sake, and look at that! The scene's over. "Thank Heavens! That tragic little blood vessel in your forehead looks like it's about to burst!" You'd like that, wouldn't you, Raoul? "Don't be such a silly! It's of no use to me whatsoever if it's subcutaneous!" Comforting.
Sam loads an automatic out at Metallicar's bottomless trunk. The heavily dramatic underscoring is telling me this moment is Very Important Indeed, but between you and me, I'm pretty sure The Heavily Dramatic Underscoring is full of shit.
The Hovel That's Masquerading As This Week's Motel Room. "I'm ambivalent about what we're attempting," Castiel announces. Dean of course misinterprets My Sweet Baboo's intention and mutters something about "breaking into Monster Gitmo," so Castiel's forced to clarify his statement like so: "I'm not sure retrieving Sam's soul is wise." Neither am I, frankly, which is yet another reason why I love My Sweet Baboo, though he and I do differ as far as our reasoning goes. I don't want them to retrieve Sam's soul because Soulless Sammy is freaking awesome. Castiel doesn't want them to retrieve Sam's soul because Sam's soul has been sitting in The Cage with Lucifer, Michael, and their hapless bastard of a half-brother for the last year and a half, and has likely been used as a punching bag by all three of The Cage's other occupants over and over again during that time. "If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam's gullet," Castiel warns, "we have no idea what will happen -- it could be catastrophic." "You mean, he dies?" Dean guesses. "I mean," Castiel corrects, "he lives -- paralysis, insanity, psychic pain so profound that he's locked inside himself for the rest of his life." "But he could be fine," Dean attempts to bright-side. "He could be," Castiel concedes, "but I sincerely doubt it." Well, I'm sold. Fuck Darling Sammy's soul. Who the hell needs it, anyway?