Graveyard. Sam tosses Dean a crowbar, Dean forces open the coffin's lid, and Poor Elise has certainly seen better days. "Forget her! What I want to know is, what ungodly beast would waste such a cunning mink cape on a corpse?! HUNS AND VISIGOTHS! THE LOT OF THEM!" Raoul! Calm! "Well, I'm sorry!" Raoul shrieks, not terribly sorry at all, "but can you blame me for getting testy when my gore has been so unnecessarily delayed?!" I guess not, but could I please get back to the scene? "By all means!" Thanks. "Don't mention it!" ANY-way, after yet another Look Fraught With Significance, Dean rejoins Sam topside, and Sam is soon liberally sprinkling Poor Elise's desiccated remains with salt. El Deano, of course, gets to perform the accelerant honors with a little squeeze bottle of lighter fluid held just below his waist, because this is the episode that's all about His Crotch. Dean then lights an entire matchbook and flicks it into the grave. The camera hops down to an extremely low angle so we might gaze up at Our Intrepid Heroes through the flames.
Stage Nine. Jay The Producer stumbles around in the dark for a lengthy period of time. Suddenly, a dark, silent figure whips past the camera's lens in the foreground of the shot, but that's enough for Jay The Producer to spot the thing, and he stumbles into a clearing of sorts to address the figure's back, at first asking for help in finding the exit, then quickly descending into an overprivileged tirade of insults when the apparent underling ignores him. After a moment of this, the figure turns to face him and... "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Holy crap! It looks like someone took an axe to this guy's forehead! "And it is faaaaaaaab-ulous!" That it is, Raoul. That it is. There's a deep, two-inch-wide gouge from the top of his head down to the bridge of his nose, and left half of his skull with its attendant bits of brain, skin, and hair is drooping off to the side. As Jay The Producer clumsily falls flat on his back, some unseen force switches on the wind machine nearby. Oh, this is going to ROCK. Raoul's practically ululating in anticipation, and he's already watched this bit about eighteen times. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The ghoul and buzzes flickers in and out for a second before seeming to disappear for good, and Jay The Producer wastes not a moment to scramble back to his feet. Or rather, he would waste not a moment to scramble back to his feet if it weren't for the murderous unseen presence of the floppy-skulled ghoul, who yanks at Jay's ankle hard enough to bring the guy crashing back into the fake ground. The Presence then proceeds to drag Jay closer and closer and closer to the infernally whirring fan. Jay frantically gropes for anything to hold on to -- electrical cables, prop trees, whatever -- but that fan just keeps getting closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and SPLAT! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" And you want to know what's most awesome about all of this? The fan actually sounded like a garbage disposal right before the chunky Jay bits SPLATTED! all over a nearby screen -- you know, that sound the thing makes when you've had it running for a bit and then you toss something meaty down the drain? "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" In any event, the chunkiest of The Chunky Jay Bits drop wetly from the screen directly into the METAL TEETH CHOMP! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!"