Emporium Proper. The Undead Mrs. Bobby lies on a cot in the parlor, with Speed Racer hovering attentively over her rapidly deteriorating form. "That DRESS! THAT SPITEFUL, SPITEFUL DRESS!" And, as I believe I noted before, I never gave a shit about Bobby's personal life, so I'll be skimming through this admittedly well-played scene between Jim Beaver and Carrie Anne Fleming to bring you the relevant details, which are these: Undead Mrs. Bobby admits not only that she remembers everything about her violent death and subsequent resurrection, but also that Capital-D Death entrusted her with a message to pass along to Bobby. Unfortunately, we never hear what that goddamned message actually is, because at the very moment she's about to deliver it, the camera cuts away to...

...Dimwit El Deano trying to pick the lock on Bobby's front door, because Dimwit El Deano apparently really does want to get shot in the face. "Not the face! NOT THE FACE!" Don't worry, my faithful lizardly companion. "WHY?!" Because I'm pretty sure that's not actually going to happen. "Whew!" Until next week. "AIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!" Ooops! Spoiler!

In any event, just as Dean crosses the threshold, a gunshot explodes from somewhere within. "VIOLENCE!" Dean charges through the hallways with that weapon of his at the ready -- "Hee!" -- until he reaches the parlor, where he finds Bobby mournfully clutching at Karen's limp hand while Karen's brains ooze out of a massive hole in the side of her head to stain the pillow below. "I HATE HER DRESS!" I really have nothing to add to that, so let's skip ahead and...

...rejoin Darling Sammy over at the county jail. On second thought, let's not and say we did, because all they do is pass out guns while cracking wise about the various alcoholics in and around Sioux Falls. Okay? "Okay!" Excellent.

Emporium Yard. Dean and Bobby load up Bobby's handicapable van with weapons and ammunition in anticipation of the battle ahead. Well, actually, Dean loads up Bobby's handicapable van with weapons and ammunition in anticipation of the battle ahead because Bobby's been useless ever since he severed his spinal cord. Sigh. Things are progressing nicely until one of Bobby's junkyard dogs starts in with the yapping, so Dashing El Deano trots off to investigate, leaving the vulnerable cripple all by his easily slaughtered lonesome. Way to go, Dean. Way. To. Go.