Supernatural
Good God, Y'All

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The Hardy Boys Gotta Have a Friend in Jesus
room and slamming the door shut behind them so My Sweet Baboo doesn't end up getting his deranged angelic ass dragged off to the St. Martin's psych ward. "Yes!" Castiel eagerly nods, reasoning, "He isn't in Heaven; He has to be somewhere!" Dean tries, but can't resist rising to the bait, and grins, "Try New Mexico! I hear he's on a tortilla!" Castiel, bless him, seriously considers this possibility for a moment before intoning, "He is not on any flatbread." HA! Unfortunately, Dean doesn't find this anywhere near as amusing as I do, and instead chooses to get loud, ranting himself around the room about how the world's in the toilet now that we've hit The End Of Days, and that God is either toes-up or off playing skee ball somewhere down the shore, and Our Intrepid Hero would continue in this tedious vein for a very long time, I'm sure, had Castiel not finally slit his eyes in anger at all of the free-floating blasphemy and growled, "Enough! This is not a theological issue, it's strategic -- with God's help, we can win!" "It's a pipe dream," Dean retorts, not letting it go, so My Sweet Baboo quite awesomely gets right up in Dean's face and lays it all on the line: "I killed two angels this week -- my brothers -- I'm hunted, I rebelled, and I did it -- all of it -- for you! And you failed! You and your brother destroyed the world, and I lost everything for nothing, so keep your opinions to yourself!" Goddamn, Castiel's hot when he's pissed off. Woof. To his credit, Dean somehow managed to retain eye contact during Castiel's entirely justified guilt-tripping tirade, but now that it's over, he averts his gaze in shame while Bobby calls out to note, "You didn't drop in just to tear us a new hole, so what is it you want?" Castiel admits he did indeed come for something: A very rare and powerful amulet that "burns hot in God's presence." "A God EMF?" Sam snorts, not quite believing what he's hearing. Solemnly, Castiel nods, then refocuses his attention on Dean. Actually, to be more precise, he refocuses his attention on Dean's necklace. You know, the one we've never seen him without? The one Wee Sam gave him during the most depressing Christmas in the history of forever? Yeah. That one. Well played, Kripke. Well played, indeed.

"May I borrow it?" Castiel politely inquires. "No!" Dean immediately barks by way of response. Heh. Castiel, however, unleashes the full power of those enormous baby blues of his in Dean's direction and asks again, so Dean has little choice but to hand the thing over, but not without first issuing a gruff warning not to lose it. "Great," he grumps, once the amulet's in his angelic boyfriend's possession. "Now I feel naked." "Not nearly as naked as we'd like you to be, you darling little boy!" Raoul titters, wiggling his eyebrows around in a manner aiming for saucy but bordering on lewd, and Raoul, it behooves me to point out that we'll never get to your violence if you keep interrupting me like that. "Oh, I do apologize most sincerely, I'm sure!" Raoul shrieks. "But I couldn't help myself!" Eh, I was thinking the same thing, so don't worry about it. "Okay!" Now, where was I? Oh, yes: With amulet in hand, Castiel assures the others he'll be in touch, and in a blink, he's vanished, leaving Bobby to shout at the ceiling, "When you find God, tell Him to send legs!" Hee.

Meanwhile, somewhere far away, that Rufus person from that one of those interminable Bela-heavy episodes way back during Season Three squeezes off a couple of rounds, and the image goes all Saving Private Ryan-style desaturated and hand-held and jittery as Rufus bends to drag a frantic and injured teenager behind an SUV for cover from whomever's firing back on them. The kid's got a massive gunshot wound on his upper right thigh and... "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" shrieks Raoul, writhing about upon his overstuffed armchair with delight now that we've finally reached the exciting portion of this evening's festivities, and oh, it only gets better from here, my scaly friend. "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" Yep, much to the kid's audible agony, Rufus strips off his belt and fashions it into a makeshift tourniquet, which he then proceeds to tighten to the point where his unfortunate charge is seconds away from passing out due to the pain. "VIOLENCE!" shrieks Raoul, thumping his tail against the carpeting in avid approval of this development. "WANTON ACTS OF MEDICALLY APPROVED VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" While the kid collapses back into the gravel, Rufus whips out his mobile and dials Bobby's number. "Dammit, can you hear me?" Rufus shouts above the crackle of suspicious-sounding electrical interference once Bobby's answered his phone. Bobby can, just barely, so Rufus continues, "I'm up to my ass in demons -- whole damn town's infested!" "Where are you?" Bobby shouts into his cell, and Rufus's response somehow manages to break through the static: "River Pass, Colorado." At that moment, two demonically enhanced rednecks emerge from behind the church across the street to stalk their way over to Rufus's hiding place, and a burst of gunfire erupts from Bobby's receiver right before the line goes dead. DUN!

Next thing we know, the Impala's tearing up backwoods highway on the way to River Pass, but Dean's forced first to slow down and then to pull to a halt when the bridge they've found themselves on unexpectedly drops away into the river below. As the boys disembark, the camera pulls back to reveal a twisted, tangled wreck of ruined rebar and concrete beneath their feet, and I don't know if the production staff somehow managed to find themselves an actual washed-out bridge in British Columbia for this shot or if it's all CGI, but if it's the latter, it's quite excellently and seamlessly done, so bravo to everyone involved, because this is a terrific image. "This is the only road in or out," Dean grumbles, kicking some stray debris over the edge as Sam tries and fails to get a signal on his cell phone. "Looks like we're walking in," Sam sighs, to which Dean irritatedly eyebrows, "And the hits just keep on comin'!" And he's not wrong there, because as the camera leaps away for a long shot of the ruined span, Norman Greenbaum's version of "Spirit In The Sky" kicks in on the soundtrack, and continues as the shot cross-fades to Our Intrepid Heroes finally hitting the town's main drag on foot. Silently, Dean notes the presence of a large sporting-goods store before he and Sam warily crouch down to examine the interior of a flipped and smoking two-door that's taking up the majority of the middle of the road. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE?!" shrieks Raoul, ever the hopeful sort, and sorry, friend of friends, but there's no gore to be had here. "Rats!" Yet. "Hooray!" In any event, whatever hit this town hit it fast, as the adjoining lawns, while entirely devoid of people, are nevertheless littered with children's toys and dotted with still-chattering sprinklers. Sam and Dean make quiet note of all this before next approaching a hastily abandoned sedan further down the road, and "Spirit In The Sky" quite cleverly flips diegetic on the sedan's radio until Sam keys off the car's engine. The boys glance up at a banner advertising River Pass's 75th annual "Pioneer Days" festival and pause long enough for Dean to admire a cherry-red Mustang parked at the side of the road before continuing on to yet another hastily abandoned vehicle, this a Lincoln four-door that comes complete with caved-in windshield, a mangled baby stroller beneath its right front wheel, and a lurid spray of blood and brain matter staining the asphalt beside the gaping driver's-side door. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" See? I told you that you wouldn't have to wait long. "Oh, it's simply beautiful!" enthuses Raoul, and while I'd like nothing more than to take the time to agree with you, my faithful lizardly companion, I'm a

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