In any event, after ordering Mad Dog to haul his sorry ass from the floor, Thomas Danforth here menaces his way up to loom over Li'l Stumpy and shove his nightstick into the underside of Dean's chin, forcing Dean's head backwards. "What's your name?" he ices. "Winchester," Dean grimaces. "Well, Winchester," Thomas Danforth grits, "not a good start." With that, he orders both Dean and Mad Dog into solitary for the remainder of the day. Sam responds to Dean's forced jocularity with yet another tremendous bitchface as a couple of guards wrestle Dean out of the cafeteria. He then turns to find Mad Dog's henchling making a slicing motion across his throat in Sam's direction. Darling Sammy heaves a beleaguered sigh, all, "You know, it'd probably be easier if I just became someone's bitch already."
Solitary. From the depths of his cell, Dean calls out, "I wish I had a baseball," to Mad Dog across the way. "You know," he continues, poking his face into the slot in the door to catch Mad Dog's eye, "like Steve McQueen?" "Yeah?" Mad Dog replies, completely not getting either reference, the latter because he is a fake person on the actual television show in question, and the former because he is a moron. "Well, I wish I had a bat, so I could bash your frickin' head in!" "Oooo-kay," Dean eyebrows as he eases himself back against the wall. "So much for the 'bonding in solitary' moment." He remains there in silence for all of a second before the lights in his cell start buzzing and blinking and flickering on and off as the ticking of the institutional-grade electric clock suddenly grows louder. Dean tensely exhales, and as soon as he sees his breath streaming from his mouth, he mutters, "Oh, crap." He crawls back over to the slot in the door just in time to catch the clock's second hand grinding to a stop and, instantly understanding exactly what's going on, he calls out, "Lucas! Listen to me! Stay very still!" Mad Dog ignores him, because Dean got his name wrong, and instead shoves his face into the slot of his own door to scan what little he can see of the corridor until...a gruesome set of demonically bloodshot eyes pops right into his frame of vision! Mad Dog reels backwards towards the far wall of his cell, but he's not halfway across the floor when some grey and decaying hand wraps itself around his mouth from behind and yanks, spinning Mad Dog around to face the demonically bloodshot eyes that are now glassily glaring at him inside the cell itself. Some unseen forces seizes him by the throat, and thick, bitterly black veins crawl across his face to throb as he opens his mouth and screams. The camera leaps across the corridor to capture Dean's increasingly frantic expression until the METAL TEETH CHOMP! barges in to gobble everything up.