...the psychokinetic violence, already in progress. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Lilith's Dietician screams and screams and screams and screams for a full thirty seconds, and whatever they paid Juliana Wimbles for her appearance on this show, it's not nearly enough, because that poor woman just had to have completely blown out her voicebox right there. Brava. In any event, once the screaming's done, Lilith's Dietician spills her guts regarding Lilith's location, so I guess torture actually does work after all! Thanks, Supernatural! Alas, Lilith's Dietician truly has no idea what breaking the final seal involves, so Crazy Sammy's about to finish her off when Princess Embolism snatches at one of his Mighty Hands to pull him aside for a little chat. Crazy Sammy, you see, needs "more juice" than Princess Embolism's got for this, their "final run on the Death Star," and the current contents of The Dietician's veins should do quite nicely as far as all that goes, so they need to take her along, alive, as a Sammy Snack. To her credit, Lilith's Dietician immediately figures out what's going on, and decides to make Sam's final bout of corpse sucking as difficult as possible by...releasing the actual nurse trapped inside that body! Yawn. To be honest with you, I never cared as much about the original inhabitants of these demonically enhanced bodies as certain exceedingly overinvested and vocal members of the online community have, mainly because, you know, it's just a goddamned TV show, so whatever to this "Cindy McLennan, R.N." person now emerging from the...wait a minute. Did I hear that right? "You did not!" Care to add a little appropriate linkage to prove that assertion, Raoul? "And ruin my manicure!? Certainly not!" Then I'm going with my ears. Shout-out!
Now, where the hell was I? Oh, yes: Lilith's Dietician willfully drops herself into hibernation within the neonatal nurse's body, thereby allowing Cindy McLennan herself to resurface so she might take one look at Our Insane Hero and shout, "Hey, loser! What's with all the layers? Clothes off! NOW." The METAL TEETH CHOMP!, who couldn't possibly agree with Our Dear Cindy more, races onto the scene to oblige her request by tearing the multitudinous layers of fabric from Darling Sammy's remarkably healthy and expressive frame, though the hateful commercials arrive long before any of us get to see skin. "Phooey!"