He finds his brother waiting for him down in the lot, leaning against the Impala, and the two embark, with Sam taking the opportunity to chastise Short-Dick El Deano for, um, whatever the hell it was that Castiel did to make the universe forget Short-Dick El Deano had ever met Bendy Lisa in the first place. "You ever mention Lisa or Ben to me again," Short-Dick El Deano warns, "and I will break your nose." "Someone's overcompensating, I think!" I think you're on to something, there, my scaly friend, but unfortunately, I must ask for your momentary silence, for Short-Dick El Deano has something else to say. "No problem! [Slurp!]" "I'm not kidding," Short-Dick El Deano swears, and he lifts his watery, bloodshot eyes to offer his brother an expression of pure misery, and then Our Intrepid Heroes drive off into...
...the second episode of this evening's two-part season finale! "Hooray!" Oh, shit -- hold off on the rejoicing for a sec, friend of friends, because I forgot about the bit that comes next. "Phooey!" Yes, while Our Intrepid Heroes might be driving off into the second episode of this evening's two-part season finale, the camera lingers for a cross-fade to Doctor Eleanor's log cabin, where it finds the good doctor sneaking from the cabin proper under cover of darkness with a cunning little Louis Vuitton overnight bag hanging from the crook of her arm. "Knockoff!" Oh, Raoul, are you sure? "I know my luxury goods, you silly little man, and that is a cheap Chinatown knockoff!" Well, I guess I'll have to take your word for it. "You'd best! Hmph!" Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah: The good doctor sneaks from her cabin proper under cover of darkness to steal away into the night in her stylish getaway sedan when My Sweet Baboo flutters in at her side to whisk her off towards points unknown -- otherwise known as the second episode of this evening's two-part season finale -- and now you can rejoice, my impressively fanged companion. "Hooray! [Slurp!] Flagon?!" Not just yet, hon' -- I'd better hold off on the boozing until I plow through this next hour. "Suit yourself! [Slurp!]"
Next up: Duh.
Demian can't believe there's another sixty minutes of this shit. Raoul is far more sanguine about the prospect of another hour, because he's allowed to drink his way through it. "Cocktails! Cocktails for everyone! [Slurp!]" You may reach the former at firstname.lastname@example.org. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.