Neal's. As the animated redhead teeters over to her car, Osiris attacks!

This Week's Motel Room. Dumb Dead Jo slides a hand into Dim Dean's jacket pocket to extract his trusty Zippo.

Neal's. The Ginormomoron jams his purloined shofar into Osiris's back. The supposed god's eyes glow neon blue, and he more or less mummifies right there on the spot before dropping out of sight beneath the frame.

This Week's Motel Room. Freed from her never-explained obligation to the now-dormant Osiris, of course, Dumb Dead Jo allows the Zippo to drop to the floor, and she caresses Dim Dean's cheek before buzzing and blinking out. Dim Dean's all, "Buh? Where'd Dead Jo go?" for a few very long moments until he vanishes into this evening's final commercial break most woefully CHOMP!-less.

We return from the break to find ourselves on the ridiculously scenic shores of the ridiculously scenic lake Our Intrepid Idiots have chosen for this week's denouement, and...yeah. I can't with this at all at this point because I got sick of listening to these bozos' pointless yammering about fifteen hours ago. Long story short, Dean LIES -- again -- about Dead Amy Pond, Sam confidently announces that Hell purged him of any lingering guilt he might otherwise be feeling about his past actions, and the two climb into the Impala to motor off towards next week's adventure. Are we done here? "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Thank God.

And as it looks like Raoul might never awaken from his Coma Of Boredom, I'll once again be handling the promo. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Yeah, yeah, shut up. Next week, Charisma Carpenter and James Marsters guest as married witches going through an especially nasty divorce. I have zero idea why Our Intrepid Idiots would get themselves involved in something like that, and I'm not especially fond of Carpenter or Marsters, but hey: It's got to be better than the crap we just sat through, right? Right? "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!"

Demian was pretty sure this episode would suck, too, but once again: NO IDEA. Raoul continues to remain blissfully unaware of the trauma. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" You may reach the former at demian_twop@yahoo.com. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon who's still in a coma on the Internet.