...back to The Hammonton Hospital Of Horrors to listen in on a lengthy chit-chat between Sam and Dean that basically amounts to this: Dean intends to flip the fuck out when Bobby finally kicks it at the end of this episode.
Comatoseland Emporium. Rufus busies himself mixing various nefarious ingredients in a bowl while Bobby ransacks the rest of the house for gold ore, hemlock and mace. Of course, because he keeps stumbling across things like mysteriously vacant closets and kitchen drawers whose contents vanish the instant he takes his eyes off them -- not to mention the fact that the daylight seems to be winking out one window at a time -- it takes a bit longer to collect the remaining bits of the Reaper-delaying potion than it normally would, but eventually, everything's in place, and after Bobby finishes painting an appropriate sigil on the parlor floor, he and Rufus start in with the Latination. Rufus strikes a match, igniting the bowl's contents, and by the time the flare subsides, Bobby's Reaper has found himself trapped in The Emporium parlor. "Cute," Bobby's Reaper eyerolls before admitting, "First time anyone's pulled this one me while actually unconscious." I should probably note that by this point, they've started using an incredibly gauzy filter on all of Bullet-Brained Bobby's scenes, and while I suppose it's an interesting way to convey that his brain's shutting down, it's also starting to annoy the holy living hell out of me. They all look like La Liz in her White Diamonds commercial.
Anyway, Bullet-Brained Bobby grumbles that his Reaper should "get comfy," because Bullet-Brained Bobby's got other business to attend to at the moment. "You're going to die," Bobby's Reaper repeats. "You think you can stop it by pinning me like a bug?" "You've seen the dark coming," Bobby's Reaper points out, "people disappearing, things going blank -- look around! Cell by cell, that bullet's killing your brain, and you're running out of places to hide." "So," he concludes, "understand: This trap won't hold forever, because this room won't hold, because you are going to die." "You think," Bobby snarls, obstinately, so his Reaper decides to try a different argument. "Be done," he urges, noting, "You've earned it." "You've helped," The Reaper insists, rather persuasively, if you ask me. "You got handed a small, unremarkable life, and you did something with it. Most men like you die of liver disease, watching Barney Miller reruns. You've done enough. Believe me." Rufus chimes in to warn that the unappealing alternative involves turning into some addled-pated ghost who'll end up nothing but fodder for other hunters, but Bobby will not be swayed. "I don't care," he contends. "Why?" The Reaper wonders. "Because they're my boys!" Bobby growls, and I think I was supposed to get all misty-eyed at that one, but you know what? Not happening. It was much nicer when Bobby's obvious sense of devoted paternal obligation towards Sam and Dean was left unsaid. We've all known it's been there all along, so why ruin things by forcing the poor guy to speak of it? And don't even get me started on how late in the game it is at this point to have the audience feel anything about Bobby's impending demise. To be honest with you, I stopped really caring after they got rid of Ellen midway through what should have been their final season, so even My Sweet Baboo's epic Swim That Needs No Towel left me little more than listless.