"God, is it on me?" Dean shudders once they've made it back out onto the street. "I feel like I've got the crazy on me!" "Nah," Sam assures him, "but you did sit in some glitter, though." Dean furiously brushes away at his rear end as the two mull over their options, which at the current moment are few. Fortunately, they spot at this very moment Brennan loading about eighteen crates of fresh cream into the back of his station wagon, so Our Intrepid Heroes crawl into the Impala to head back over to...
...the watchworks, where they quietly observe Brennan transferring those eighteen crates of fresh cream from his station wagon into the storefront before Dean decides that they must again split up, with Sam once more tailing Brennan while Dean investigates the shop's interior. Dean breaks in through the back entrance, draws that silvered knife from his waistband, and slowly eases open the main door to find...oh, my hell, this is the stupidest thing I've ever seen on this show. Well, you know, this week. Four little fairies toil away at various workbenches, adjusting springs and drilling holes into metal and such, occasionally taking breaks to chug down some cream. Why did they renew this shit for a sixth season?
Dean, thoroughly freaked out, scampers back to the street, where he dials Sam on his cell. "Friggin' full of Keeblers over here, man!" Dean rants once Sam has answered. "It's like the story with the shoe guy? And all the elves? Hey, you think Brennan made a deal with a bunch of fairies?" Well, obviously, you idiot. Sam, reensconced in that bar from earlier, promises to get back to Dean on that one, and with that, he hangs up his phone to approach the hard-drinking Brennan at the bar proper, and long story short, Brennan made a deal with a bunch of fairies.
Meanwhile, out on the sidewalk, Dean spots that weird homeless guy with the hat staring at him from across the street. Dean spins around to head in the other direction, only to realize that the bum's mirroring his precise movements. Yeah, I have no idea what's going on, here. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" That too, Raoul.
Back at the bar, Brennan's filling Sam in on the particulars of the deal he'd made with the fairies. Seems Brennan developed Parkinson's after years of running his family's watch shop, and in a fit of desperation one dark night two months ago, he dug up a fairy-specific grimoire his Old World granny just happened to have left him when she died, and cast a summoning spell. The leprechaun who answered that summons promised Brennan riches beyond imagining in exchange for nothing more than a place where his fey brethren could rest and "take of the fruit and the fat of the land." Because he is a moron, Brennan of course agreed to the deal, only to discover later that "the fruit and the fat of the land" actually means "every first-born son in this godforsaken burg," with Brennan's eldest the first to go. Sam correctly reasons that there must be a way to reverse the spell, but unfortunately, the fairies have Granny's grimoire locked away in a safe in Brennan's shop, and they won't let anyone go near the thing. Sam sighs in frustration and settles back in his chair to figure out a plan.