"Absolutely!" No-Nonsense Sammy agrees, humoring Dean before getting back to the point. "But couldn't I do all that and have sex with the hippie chick?" "No!" Dean squawks. "It would be in the dark," No-Nonsense Sammy correctly points out. "You would be suffering," Dean emphasizes, "and you just can't turn that off for the night!" "So, you're saying having a soul equals suffering?" Sam eyebrows. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Dean retorts, obviously blurting out anything that will bring this conversation to an end. "So, you're saying suffering is a good thing?" Sam persists, not quite believing what he's hearing, and for very good reason, as the last person he should be talking to about suffering is the insufferable masochist now sitting across from him in that diner's tiny booth. "I'm saying it's the only game in town," Dean snaps, and that's the end of that, at least for now. As Sam wonders what their next steps are vis-a-vis the aliens, Dean notices a grimy and insane-looking homeless guy in a red cap staring at him through the diner's window. He attempts to draw Sam's attention to the crazy person, but Sam can't figure out who Dean's talking about, and the next thing we know, the bum's disappeared. Now, should that be a DUN!? "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Crap. Well, at least he made it halfway through the episode this time around. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!"
Back at This Week's Motel Room, Dean's performing a little online research into aliens when Sam calls to note he's on his way back from the library. As they hang up on each other, it becomes apparent that Dean's been listening to David Bowie's "Space Oddity," which seems like an odd choice for him, but whatever, because I've got an imaginary gay Internet dragon drooling all over my carpeting, and I can't be bothered to care at this point. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Soon enough, all of the electrics in This Week's Motel Room buzz and blink and flicker on and off until the room's plunged into darkness, and yet the David Bowie continues on underneath as Dean mutters, "Oh, no!" A brilliant white light appears on the far side of the curtained window, sailing from left to right as it makes its way towards the room's door, and just as Dean cries, "Not again!" the brilliant white light kicks the door in. Dean braces himself, fearing the worst, but the brilliant white light proceeds to shrink itself down to a Tinkerbell-sized speck, which then darts across the threshold to hover a few feet above the floor. Dean eyes the apparition warily, and lunges to retrieve his trusty pearl-handled automatic from the bed, but the speck scampers over to ward him away from the weapon. Dean leans in to get a closer look at the thing, and as Bowie's psychedelic guitar run climbs ever higher on the soundtrack, Dean squints and realizes, "Nipples?" With that, the speck proceeds to kick his bow-legged ass from one end of This Week's Motel Room to the other. Thinking fast, Dean manages to trap the thing in the microwave, where it beats futilely against the glass once Dean fires the thing up, and sparks of electricity erupt from the speck's center until the thing finally explodes, covering the microwave's interior with a thick coat of black gunk. "Ha-ha!" Dean triumphs, getting all bug-eyed over his unexpected success before vanishing into this evening's first METAL TEETH CHOMP! And then? The microwave goes, "Ting!" Which was funnier the first time they did it. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!"