Chez Snore. Boring Evan hears a hellhound. Sam, of course, can't. "Where is it?" he demands. "Right outside the door!" Evan points. For some reason, even though Sam can't hear the hellhound, he can see the den's doors rattling as the hellhound flings itself against them again and again. Looking wigged, Sam makes a little girly hop into the protective circle with Boring Evan and instructs, "Just stay where you are!"
Crossroads. "You stupid, stupid boy!" The Little Queen Of Boobs hisses. "I should rip you limb from limb!" Dean's all, "Bring it, bitch!" The Little Queen Of Boobs advances upon him for a few steps, then stops herself. "I'm not going to put you out of your misery," she announces. "Your misery's the whole point!" "Well, I must admit," Raoul eyebrows, "it certainly seems that way, given how dull and dreary he's become this season. Sigh." "It's too much fun to watch," she adds, and Raoul must be restrained from pelting the television set with live mice in furious disagreement. Oh, I'm sorry. Do I need to explain that? The live-mice thing, not the furious disagreement. Some other time, perhaps. In any event, The Little Queen Of Boobs taunts and teases poor Dean, pushing all the right buttons to elicit The Imposing Ducky Lips Of Manly Angst And Torment before concluding, "You blew it, Dean! I could have given you what you need." "What do I need?" he growls. "Your father!" she sings. "I could have brought him back!" "Your loss," she shrugs, and makes to leave with a too-casual "See ya, Dean! I wish you a nice, long life." Dean, who'd been pushed up against the supports of a small water tower during all that, angles beneath the thing to bleat, "Hold on!" The Little Queen Of Boobs smiles to herself triumphantly.
Chez Snore. The hellhound abandons the doors in favor of circling around to the heating vent, where it huffs and it puffs and it blows the grate in to start up again with the manic barking. "It's here!" Boring Evan shouts. "Wake me up when someone gets eaten," Raoul remarks.
"You're lucky I've got a soft spot for lost puppies with long faces," The Little Queen Of Boobs simpers. "I just can't leave you like this." She slings a hand onto one of the water tower's crossbeams and outlines the terms of her proposed deal: In exchange for Dean's immortal soul, she'll bring back Daddy Shut Up "just as he was" to "live a long, natural life, like he was meant to." In return, Dean gets "ten long, good years with him" -- "a lifetime" during which "the family can be together again." "The Winchester Boys," she whispers, "reunited." She then swivels her hips around to join him beneath the tower's tank. "Your dad's supposed to be alive," she reminds him, drawing a perfectly manicured nail down the front of his jacket. "You're supposed to be dead. This will just...set things straight -- put things back in their natural order. And you get ten extra years on top! That's a bonus." Dean looks conflicted and paces a few feet away from her, edging himself out from underneath the tower's tank in the process. "You think you could," he begins with his back still to her. He turns to smirk, "Throw in a set of steak knives?" The Little Queen Of Boobs snots about Dean's "smart-ass self-defense mechanism" for all of a second before she realizes there's some sort of invisible barrier preventing her from reaching the grass. She narrows her eyes at him and slowly looks up to find a devil's trap chalked onto the bottom of the tower's tank. "Dean?" she peeves, drawing out the E sound in his name. "Let me out, now!" Dean reiterates his earlier demand for Boring Evan's permanent release. The Little Queen Of Boobs insists she "can't break a binding contract," so Dean pulls Daddy Shut Up's demonic day-planner from the back of his jeans and flips it open to start with the latinating.