In the Rangerpolice Station, Andrea sits with a bucket of fried chicken in her lap, tending to her child. She greets Sam and Dean, as they walk in with her father, who is surprised she knows them on a "first-name basis." Mister, you don't even want to know who your bucket-o'-lap-chicken freak daughter is on first name bases with. Lucas sits and rocks back and forth while Andrea asks her father about what happened to Carlton. Lucas whimpers and tries to run out of the room; Dean tells him "it's okay," which seems to really get through to the traumatized kid. Wonder why nobody thought of that approach before? Andrea leads her still upset but calmed down child out of the station.

Rangerpoliceman goes over Sam and Dean's story, of which he is tremendously incredulous. They've told him something attacked Carlton's boat, sent him into the water, and they never saw him again. Rangerpoliceman doesn't believe them for a few reasons: Carlton is a good swimmer, he's "sonar swept" the lake (already?), and Sam and Dean aren't really employed by the federal government. "That's right. I checked." The boys look surprised, even though they've done nothing since they initially introduced themselves as USFWS to maintain the illusion that they are employed by the government. Rangerpoliceman basically tells the cads to shut it, and that the only reason he hasn't arrested them yet is because a neighbor saw Carlton take the boat out, too. He continues on, turning into a real bad-ass dad, telling the boys they have two options. He either arrests them for impersonating federal officers, or they get in their car and leave town, and "never darken my doorstep again." The camera slowly pans in on each man's face as Rangerpoliceman gives them this fatherly talking-to, and Sam finally says, "Door number two sounds good." Rangerpoliceman replies, sternly, "That's the one I'd pick." Now THAT'S the way you act the stern dad, if you ask me. John Winchester, we'll find, is quote-unquote stern, with the emphasis on the quote. And also a little emphasis on the "Good-For-Nothing Piece of Crap Whose Cranky Face Was Misinterpreted By His Vulnerable Sons as Heroic."

Well, now, not totally sure where that anger came from, but I'm gonna go with it and maybe try to go scrub my floors right now.

Aaaand, I'm back, floors squeaky-clean thanks to my repressed rage. In a dark bedroom, Lucas sits on the floor and practices his black-vortex art, a style he learned about from his friend Aidan from The Ring. A shadow briefly darkens the door to his room (intentional visual echo? If so, artful!), but it's just his mother asking why he's still awake. She puts him back in bed.