Exile On Main St.

Episode Report Card
Demian: D | 4 USERS: B+
The Hardy Boys...Don't Do Much of Anything, Actually

Tinkle, Tinkle RAAAWWWR! Yes, gentle reader, the RAAAWWWR! has made its triumphant and full-throated return to the title card this season, this time accompanied by a tinkly burst of exploding glass that just might be a mirror, though I'm not certain of that at this point. And it is of course at this juncture that my faithful recapping companion would normally interject with a few choice criticisms of the pre-credits sequence we've just endured, but alas! I'm afraid I must be the bearer of bad tidings this week, for Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon lapsed into a coma over there atop his overstuffed armchair the instant that flashback to last season's finale appeared on the screen, and I'm pretty sure that nothing that follows this evening will rouse him out of it. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" So, if you'll all excuse me for a moment, I've got to go fetch a drip pan from the kitchen so the dear thing's drool doesn't ruin the stain on my hardwood floors. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!"

There. That's better. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah: This crappy episode. So, once The Official Season Six Scented Taffy Clear Blue Glitter Title Card buzzes and blinks and flickers the hell out of here, the camera fades up on a bar interior that looks distinctly and somewhat annoyingly familiar to me, and though God knows I shouldn't begrudge them a few recycled interiors at this point in the show's run, it probably wouldn't have killed them to find a place they didn't just use eight frigging months ago, for Christ's goddamned sake.


So, Dean's perched on a bar stool over at one of the side tables, enjoying an after-work beer with "Sid," who might be a coworker or his boss or his neighbor, but who will definitely be D-E-D dead before this evening is out. I'm guessing. Sid enthusiastically regales us all with a sordid tale involving himself, a camera, a goat, and the blessed lack of online social media outlets fifteen years ago while Dean politely pretends to be amused before shifting the topic of conversation to inquire after Dean's globe-trotting past, about which Sid had heard many rumors over the last year, and don't ask me why Sid's just mentioning those rumors now, because I don't have an answer for you. Dean carefully and evasively replies that he "lived on the road" and "took crap jobs nobody else wanted" like "pest control," which Sid, for whatever reason, finds infinitely fascinating. Fortunately, before I join Raoul in a coma, their comely waitress stops by with the check, which she deliberately places close to Dean, the better to stroke his bare forearm as she murmurs, "Thanks, guys." "I think she likes you!" Sid leers once the shapely and tattooed brunette has sauntered away, leading Dean to smirk, "You think?" as he holds the tab up for Sid's inspection. At the bottom is written "Brigitta 317 555 2624." Brigitta has dotted her second I with a heart, which sort of makes me want her dead, too. Sid, however, finds this almost as fascinating as Dean's supposed rat-chasing past, and swoons, "What is it with you? Like, every time!" "It's like chicks specifically dig unavailable guys," Dean shrugs, carefully tearing the bill into strips before adding, "Who knew?"

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