Only now does Castiel's gaze lift from his friend's corpse, but there's no epiphany or dawning horror. It's more like a robot waiting for its next task. "Finally, you're ready," Naomi tells him. Cass-bot is like, "..." Only now do we see, as the camera pans up, the gleaming factory floor that is littered with hundreds of practice Deans in various death poses. Some of them lie in heaps together, either arranged that way on purpose or by chance. Presumably, the Deans at the far end of the floor managed to elude death a bit longer, while the most recently deceased Dean, killed without hesitation, barely got through the door. There doesn't appear to be a Sam amongst them. Naomi knows Cass-bot's programming weak spots.
Meanwhile, at the Lair O' Letters, the real Dean Winchester appears to be alive and well, if somewhat out of his element as he sorts through boxes of artifacts. He pulls out a small case containing a metal-tipped wooden lance. "What the hell is this?" he wonders. He checks the label. "'The Spear of Destiny'? What is this; God's toothpick?" Poor, dumb Dean. At the current rate of his mental deterioration, he's going to be about as sharp as a tub of tofu by season's end. Sam, sitting nearby with his laptop, coughs up some blood into a napkin. Dean asks, "Hey, Doc Holliday, you doing all right over there?" Sam drops the napkin into the trash and lies that he's totally fine and most certainly not turning into steak tartare. Dean knows he's lying, but doesn't push. Perhaps it's because he's been distracted by the discovery of some vintage porn in the form of a magazine called Voluptuous Asian Lovelies. Dean practically purrs with appreciation. "Dude, this is a first edition! Do you know what this would go for on eBay?" he asks. "No," Sam says. "Do you?" Dean tries to deny it, but it's useless and he knows it. It's a rare moment of fun brotherly interaction.
Dean joins Sam at the hub table, the top of which is a back-lit map of the world. It's funny, because nothing ever happens outside a few select American states. Case in point: Sam tells Dean about a rash of dead bodies showing up in the Midwest. Dean is uninterested until Sam describes the state of the victims. Each had burns around the eyes, puncture wounds in the hands and feet and their internal organs were liquified. Dean, who's been idly perusing the porn, agrees it sounds like their kind of case. "So, Chupacabra?" he guesses. "Power tools gone rogue?" A thought strikes him with enough force that he actually has to set aside his porn for a moment. "Wait... Are we talking a Maximum Overdrive situation here?" He appears to be only half joking. Sam leaves to pack up for the case, generously allowing Dean a few minutes of "alone time" with his porn. As soon as Sam is out of the room, though, Dean turns his attention to the trash, where he finds the bloody napkin. Suddenly, he's not in the mood for turning Japanese.