Later that night, the thirtysomething Canadian-accented gentleman rolls onto his back, making it easier for...a thick, wrinkly hand to clap itself over his mouth! DUN! The shot reverses to give us the thirtysomething Canadian-accented gentleman's perspective of things, and he's staring up in shock at some middle-aged meathead who looks exactly like the late, great Captain Lou Albano, if the late, great Captain Lou Albano had had a thing for frilly pink tutus, gigantic sparkly fairy wings, and dainty little tiaras. Hee. Not as good as the suicidal teddy bear, but it'll do. "Hold still," The Hairy Fairy rasps, pulling an enormous pair of pliers from the folds of his frilly pink tutu before warning, "You might feel just a little pinch!" "VIOLENCE!" howls Raoul, having long overcome his earlier scare. "WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT DENTALLY INCORRECT VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" And with that, The Hairy Fairy twists and tugs and swivels and yanks the first of the by-now-screaming thirtysomething Canadian-accented gentleman's teeth right into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Box Butte General Hospital, the following morning. Sam's just finishing up interviewing last night's dad, who's lying in bed with his jaws swollen out to Jesus. Out in the hall, Dean's just finishing up an interview of his own with perky young Nurse Fremont, and the two boys gather together for a processing summit. With regard to the case of last night's dad, whatever it was that attacked him made it through bolted doors and windows without triggering the house's alarm system, and furthermore, "it left 32 quarters underneath his pillow, one for each tooth." Dean will see Sam's Hairy Fairy and raise him a couple of urban legends: There are two kids up in the pediatrics unit with stomach ulcers they claim they developed after mixing Pop Rocks and Coke, plus another guy whose "face froze that way." Sam's all, "What way?" so Dean demonstrates thusly: GLAAARRARAAAGH. Yes, I'm cheating by using a screencap, but seriously, how the hell am I supposed to describe that face? "As asinine, perhaps?!" Drink your juice, Raoul. "Thanks! [Slurp!] [Skritchy-Skritchy!]" Dean puts a halt to the torture of The Ducky Lips and allows his eyes to settle back into place before elaborating, "He, uh, held it too long, and it stuck. They're flying out a plastic surgeon." Hee. Sam looks adorably freaked out and perplexed by Dean's entire explanation, then shakes himself out to apply some of his super-smarts to the situation. Unfortunately, his super-smarts fail him, so the two are left to wander through the hospital hallways, with Dean off-handedly remembering he believed in Sea-Monkeys back when he was six years old, and proposing that recent events in Alliance appear to have similar roots: "The Tooth Fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you -- they're all lies that kids believe." Sam rolls his eyes when he realizes that anything that could warp reality in such a fashion must have the powers of a god, specifically The Trickster. "With the sense of humor of a nine-year-old," Dean adds. "Or you," Sam bitchfaces. Heh.