Back on the set that I'm really starting to hate, the lead PA calls a wrap for the day, and everyone begins to disperse. Jay The Producer offers The Unctuous McG some terribly false compliments before hustling off towards a deserted corner to take a private call.
Graveyard. Armed with flashlights and shovels, Sam and Dean enter and, following a "Graves Of The Stars" map Dean picked up for five bucks, head over to Poor Elise's not-so-final resting place. "Hey, we gotta go check out Johnny Ramone's grave when we're done!" Dean decides. "You wanna dig him up, too?" Sam sarcastically remarks. "Bite your tongue, heathen!" Dean retorts. Heh. Though, you know, now that they've put that out there, I'm demanding an episode in which the unquiet spirits of Johnny Ramone pushes Avril Lavigne, Pete Wentz, and the odious Madden twins into an industrial meat grinder. Our Intrepid Heroes won't even have to disinter and immolate his remains afterwards so he might at long last find everlasting peace -- with those douchebags gone, he'll already have it. "Absolutely!" In any event, the boys finally reach Poor Elise's grave, and for the obsessives amongst you, I'll note she was born on March 24, 1900, and plunged through the top of a set on Stage Nine on January 15, 1932. By the way, they do of course wonder why Poor Elise would suddenly break seventy-five years of silence to go after Gary Cole, but they quite naturally have no answer for that at the moment, because neither of them bothered to pay attention when Wall-Eyed Tara recited the suspiciously authentic-sounding incantation earlier in the episode. The boys set to work, and a short elapsed-time cross-fade later are standing atop Poor Elise's exposed coffin.
Back on the set, Jay The Producer bitches into his phone about The Unctuous McG's uncontrollable behavior and lousy dailies before offering the gentleman on the other end of the line the exact same false compliments he'd earlier given the guy he just now trashed. And then to cap it all off, the minute he's snapped his cell shut, he mutters to himself, "What a dick." Did you know that the population of Hollywood suffers from endemic insincerity? "It's a shock to me!" Raoul interjects before tittering, "NOT!" Long, long story short, something finally shuts off the soundstage lights, and...that's it? "BORING!" shrieks Raoul, who's growing most impatient for his gore. Don't worry, my scaly friend. It's coming up soon. "Not soon enough!"