Crypt. Aw. Poor Deluded Dead Gay Tobey's crying! Yep, Sam and Father Reynolds have finally gotten through to the ghost, and they now offer to, uh, help him on his way, or something. Oh, don't look at me like that. I stopped caring about this episode hours ago. David Monahan's a fine-looking priest, though. "We've seen better." Raoul, don't be so heartless. Even if you are right. In any event, Father Reynolds starts a Last Rites ceremony that so totally isn't, but that's not important. What is important is that the moment the opening lines of the prayer emerge from Father Reynolds's mouth, Dead Gay Toby visibly shorts out as ghosts on this show tend so often to do. This clearly unnerves both of the priests, but Father Reynolds continues with his nonexistent ritual, invoking both The Archangel Raphael and The Holy Spirit as he stretches his hand above the now-kneeling Dead Gay Tobey's head. Once Reynolds completes the prayer, Dead Gay Tobey's form bursts with a white light that envelops him completely before quite simply vanishing. Sam looks wrecked, as if what just happened down here in the crypt had anything at all to do with him. Self-centered loser! Was that too harsh? "Absolutely not!"
Back at the car chase...nope. Still boring, but Raoul perks up anyway, because he knows what's coming at the end of it all. Basically, the two cars swerve all over the road until another car up ahead runs a stop sign, causing a construction company's pick-up to swing a 180 right in the middle of the intersection. A length of scaffolding flies off the back of the truck, bounces once on the asphalt, and slams pointy-end-first into the would-be rapist's windshield. We hear the guy's abruptly cut off scream as Dean slams on the Impala's brakes. Dean crawls out of Metallicar, takes one look at the carnage inside the would-be rapist's vehicle, and breathes, "Holy..." because you still can't say "shit" on broadcast television. The camera at long last leaps over to take in the carnage first-hand, and it glides past the business end of the scaffolding pipe -- rammed straight through the back of the driver's seat and now dripping blood into the back -- before finally landing on the would-be rapist's rapidly cooling and deeply marred face before panning down to linger on the rest of the pipe jutting out of the guy's chest. Raoul? "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Happy now? "Not really, but that last shot will do nicely until next week, when we've been promised quite the tasty bloodbath!"