Back at that diner from the top of the hour, the boys ponder their options over coffee for a minute or so, then decide their best plan of attack involves Dashing El Deano returning to The Emporium to keep a surreptitious eye on The Undead Mrs. Bobby while Darling Sammy investigates the other revenants. Next!

Emporium. Dean cools his heels out in the salvage yard, pursing a pair of determined Ducky Lips in the general direction of Bobby's boarded-up house until...The Undead Mrs. Bobby pops up beside him to invite him indoors for lunch! D'OH! So much for Dashing El Deano's surreptitious eye, I suppose. Next!

Over in a far tidier section of town, Darling Sammy arrives at Sheriff Mills's charming two-storey sky-blue Colonial, and tiptoes around the living room window to spy on her as she reads a book to her zombie child while her pleasant-looking husband lounges next to them on the sofa. Next!

Emporium. While Bobby snoozes away in an armchair over in the den, The Undead Mrs. Bobby treats Dean to a slice of her cherry pie. No, not like that. God, you people are sick. By the way, The Undead Mrs. Bobby's apparently been quite the busy little chef since she returned to Sioux Falls, as every available table, countertop, and desk has a pie or six cooling on it. Dashing El Deano, ever the observant one, makes note of this, and wonders when The Undead Mrs. Bobby finds time to sleep. "I don't!" she perks before modifying her tone a bit to offer him by way of explanation a decidedly more tentative, "It must be the excitement." "Or being dead," Dean pointedly replies. The Undead Mrs. Bobby clearly expected that from him for, rather than lopping his rude head off with a butcher's knife, she calmly -- almost apologetically -- turns to face him and allows, "I know you don't trust me." "That's why you're here, isn't it?" she continues. "Keeping an eye on me?" Dean remains silent, so The Undead Mrs. Bobby lays it all on the line: "I know who you are, just like I know Bobby's not the same mild-mannered scrap dealer I married. You hunt things, and I...I'm a thing. I get it." "Then you know that Sam and I would never let anything happen to Bobby," Dean warns before adding, "He's like a father to us." "I understand," The Undead Mrs. Bobby assures him, "and he's lucky to have you looking out for him, Dean, but you're not the only one." "Is that so?" Dean replies, mildly enough, but there's a certain hard menace in his expression. Unable at the moment to continue meeting his gaze, The Undead Mrs. Bobby turns back to her pie making and admits as lightly as she can, "I remember everything, you know -- when I died, that demon taking over my body, and the things that it made me do." But you must understand that when she now looks into Bobby's eyes, all she can see is the guilt he still feels, and she'd like nothing more than to bring him a bit of peace, for however long she's allowed. Dean blinks. Next!