We open with a montage, set to a song called "Fight the Good Fight." Which is sung by a band called Triumph. Which band has sometimes been considered a poor man's Rush. Which, okay, it's not like anyone is saying you're a poor man's Yes, but believe me, Supernatural, you do not want to be inviting any more "poor man" comparisons than already spring fully-formed from my brain. This montage simply does not compare with the "Carry on My Wayward Son" montage of the first half of the season finale. We get John declaring that he's spent his whole life searching for this demon, and then we get some gun porn, followed by yet another reminder that Sam gets visions, and then a recap of the whole ill-thought-out Gun Caper that John came up with in the last episode. The rest of the montage is pretty much just "last week on..." as we see the boys fail to kill the Big Bad and John get tossed around by BotoxoCop. Aaand we're already four minutes in!
Replay the final few seconds of the last episode as Short Lip picks up John's phone and tells the boys that they've got him. Dean hangs up and rubs his face a lot as he tries to think of what to do. Sam seems to be trying to do duck lips as he shoves his mouth forward to ask, "What'd she say?" Dean grabs the No Longer Guaranteed To Kill Anything Gun and starts rushing out the door, saying that the demon is probably coming for them. Sam acts tough, recalling that they've still got three magic bullets left, but Dean reminds the eager beaver that they aren't ready for the fight, not knowing how many demons are out there and stuff like that. I half expect Eric Kripke to pop up on screen and add, "I don't know much about this larger story arc, either!" Dean orders Sam to leave.
The Metallicar totally peels out on a dark street. Sam is acting like Oscar the Grouch, muttering that they "could've taken him" but Dean insists that they need a plan, and then hypothesizes that "they" are probably keeping John alive to trade for the gun. Here's a question: who are "they," and why do "they" care about a gun with only three more chances to kill something, when "they" should already realize that these goobers -- Sam, Dean, AND John -- are actually bumbling bush league prettyboys? Sam thinks that John is probably dead, since Short Lip didn't mention that she wanted to trade the gun for him. Dean doesn't want Sam to even mention the possibility. Sam wants to "do the job," Dean yells, "Screw the job, Sam!" Sam thinks John "would've wanted us to keep going," Dean insists that Sam stop talking about him like he's dead. Dean says they go to Lincoln and try to trace where the demons took John. Sam scoffs at the possibility that these uber-demons would leave a trail. Somebody up in this piece needs to enroll in a freaking introductory creative writing workshop. I believe the phrase is "show don't tell," folks. We keep getting told that our three heroes are such fantastic hunters, and yet never see them be all that surprisingly powerful or intuitive. And we keep getting told that these demons are SOOOOO bad and evil, but freaking Short Lip didn't even realize she was being handed a fake gun. And, anyway, college writing workshops are like guaranteed hook-up factories. Albeit ones where a roll in the hay carries certain costs, those costs usually taking the form of groan-inducing extended metaphors comparing a recent walk of shame back to your apartment complex with Leopold Bloom's stroll through Dublin. Er, or so I've heard.Dean realizes that Sam is right and says they need help. The Metallicar transitions from night to early morning, and motors up to an auto salvage yard, complete with chained guard dog sleepily passing the time on the hood of an old-timey tow truck. Lingering establishing shot of the junky exterior of the house that sits on the salvage lot. Inside, Ellsworth (Awww, Ellsworth! The most likable morally ambivalent miner in Deadwood!) brings two antique-y flasks to Dean. Dean asks if they contain holy water. Ellsworth, whose character is named Bobby here, says one does, but the other holds whiskey. He takes a swig, then hands it to Dean, who takes a rather pansy-ish swig. Bobby and Dean play a game of escalating good ole boy accents as Dean recalls that the last time they saw him, Bobby threatened to "blast 'im fulla buckshot. Cocked the shotgun, 'n' everthin'." All right, Darl, we get the gist.