Supernatural

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Demian: F | 14 USERS: B+
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It's The Hardy Boys' Party

At very long last, we reach tonight's initial bout of expository blather. The so-called team's target on this mission is The Morton House, which becomes "the most haunted place in America" once every four years, on February 29th. "The Leap-Year Ghost," in fact, is so freaky that no one has ever succeeded in making it past Leap Day's midnight, though many, apparently, have tried. During all of this, Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett's been pulling a Ianto from Torchwood, passing mugs of fresh French Vanilla to Maggie, Dick, and Dickless, the latter of whom takes a sip and murmurs, "Mmm. That's good." Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett shyly explains he purchased that particular variety just for Dickless, and the jumpy, hand-held camera hops from Corbett's bashful smile to Dickless's blank and utterly clueless expression before landing on Dick's mightily furrowed brow before we zip over into...

...a confessional, of sorts, wherein Dick, seated in the Gremlin, insists that he really, really, really, really isn't a homophobic asshole douchebag prick (albeit a homophobic asshole douchebag prick with an enormous package) when he praises Corbett for being a good worker and whatnot, but: "I think he's got the hots for [Dickless], and that could spell trouble for the whole team." DUN! NOT! Shut the fuck up, whatever your fucking name is. Unless, of course, you're jus jelass, in which case...oh, ooops! Sorry! Forgot the impending bit where we learn you got the hots for Dickless's sister, so you can go right ahead and shut the fuck up and drop dead and go to hell and magically resurrect so I can kill you all over again myself, okay? Thanks.

After an unfortunate insert in which Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett praises Dickless's manfully hairy visage, or some such shit, we head back into Exposition Land to learn the 29th is "this Friday" before everything attached to the garage door shudders and collapses onto the concrete, because Mr. Zeddmore or Mr. Spangler or whoever has arrived home and activated the automatic opener. Wah. Wah. Waaaaaaaah!

"Phase II: Infiltration" appears on the screen, and the next thing we know, the camera's gone all Cloverfield on the audience's collective ass as the GHOSTFACERS scurry up to the locked chain-link fence that surrounds The Morton House, and I'm sorry, but I found this kind of camerawork to be far beyond annoying way back during the heyday of Blair Witch, so you're going to have to forgive me if I refrain from a play-by-play of the action for most of the rest of this episode, especially because Raoul himself looks like he's about to boot. "[Urp!] It's true!" So, long story short, the assembled idiots (plus Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett) natter at each other about the local cops for a bit until they hear a car approach, at which point they all dive for cover. One of the cameras manages to focus on the intruder, and it is, of course, The Impala, with Sam and Dean coolly appraising The Morton House's fa├žade from the front seat as Grand Funk Railroad blares from the dashboard's speakers. After a moment, Metallicar grumbles off into the night, so Dickless leaps back to his feet to slice through the fence's chain with a pair of bolt cutters, and soon enough, the assembled idiots (plus Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett) are racing across the overgrown lawn to break in through the kitchen door. After a few poorly lit camera sweeps through the main floor, Dickless decides to set up base in what remains of the home's living room, and we speed through a montage of the others setting up overhead cameras on various walls before they regroup, only to break up again for a general reconnaissance mission through the house, which one would think they already achieved by scampering around the place with their fucking stupid night-vision cameras, but what-EVER, because it's time for Phase III, which they are calling "Face Time!" The exclamation point is not mine, by the way. Just so you know. Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett and Dickless are the first team we follow, and Corbett's got a FaceCam of some sort attached to his head that focuses solely upon his own reactions to everything, which I mention only because it comes into horrifying play later in the evening. They bungle around for a bit until a noise leads them to switch to night vision, and the visuals in this wretched episode just got three thousand times more annoying.

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Supernatural

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