Supernatural

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Demian: A- | 4 USERS: A+
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The Hardy Boys Raise a Little Hell

Hesitantly, Sister Slapface chooses this moment of extreme tension to interrupt the obviously unhinged collar jockey in front of her with a question. Of course, for her trouble, she receives little more than a harshly bellowed "Shut your frigging pie hole, you little slut!" by way of response. The other nuns simply gape and stare, for they are merely extras, while Sister Slapface, here, is pulling down the major day-player bucks. She begins to weep, sending that clumpy mascara down her over-rouged cheeks in tiny little rivulets of terror and despair as Father Schmidt picks up where he left off regarding the convent's unlikely location by allowing, "I suppose it makes sense -- folks forget my daddy is an angel, so I suppose some dumb bastard stood here, felt a jolt of his holy juice and thought, 'I'm gonna build me a nun factory!'" Father Schmidt pauses to let that settle for a moment before grinning, "Right idea, wrong angel!" With that, he spins around to reach for something and...his eyes flip a sickly, marbled yellow! Dun-dun-DUN! Raoul leans forward in his overstuffed armchair in breathless anticipation as Father Ceiling Demon lifts a foot-long serrated knife from beneath the altar cloth and suggests, "If any of you gals are the praying type, now would be a good time to start." And then? "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Oh, look at Raoul, writhing about upon his overstuffed armchair with glee, when in fact there is no gore to be had in this sequence. "WHAT?!" Raoul shrieks, halting himself in mid-writhe and nearly throwing out his ancient lizardly back in the process. "NO GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!?" Becalm yourself, my impressively fanged companion, and yes. There is no gore to be had in this sequence, because that runty little bastard we call The Kripkeeper has chosen instead to cut away discreetly to a carved angel in the hallway outside the chapel's barred door just as the screaming begins. "Why, that heartless BEAST!" Raoul roars, and honey. Volume. "Well, I am sorry, I'm sure, but why were we forced to endure the endless scene just passed if he...! If we...! If I...! [Wail!]" Buck up, Raoul. "[Sob!] WHY?! [Blubber!]" Because we get to see the gruesome aftermath later in the episode. "[Sniffle!] Really!? You're not...! [Hic!] You're not just saying that to make me feel better?! [Wibble!]" Of course not, friend of friends. Now here -- have a Kleenex and dry those eyes, for it's time for the final...

...Flutter, Flutter RAAAWWWR! Well? "[Sniff!]" Oh, great. Last goddamned Flutter, Flutter RAAAWWWR! ever, and Raoul's curled up in a whimpering, tearstained ball on his overstuffed armchair. Thanks for nothing, Kripke!

Somewhere remote, Crazy Sammy's hardened expression comes into slow focus just before the camera leaps to the far side of the abandoned farmyard in which he's currently lounging to take in the long-abandoned wood-frame house he and Princess Embolism apparently occupied shortly after last week's throwdown with Dashing El Deano, and while Princess Embolism packs the trunk of her crapped-out Mustang with supplies, the camera scampers back to burrow into the frown lines on Crazy Sammy's freakish Cro-Magnon forehead. "Sam?" Princess Embolism calls out. "Your head in the game, here?" Crazy Sammy flinches at the sound of her voice, shakes himself out of his thousand-yard stare, and mutters, "I'm good -- let's go." Not buying that answer, Princess Embolism attempts to launch herself into a pep-talk regarding Our Intrepid Heroes' latest fight and how Crazy Sammy will have plenty of time to patch things up with his brother after they off Lilith, but Crazy Sam's certain not only that his days are numbered, but also that whatever Dean hectored him about last week is true. "I can feel it inside me," Sam winces. "I've changed for good." And while he's resigned himself to carrying out what might end up being a suicide mission, he's convinced that Dean is better off without him, anyway, so...whatever, I guess? I'm not sure, and it won't be important until the end of the episode, so let's wave goodbye to Crazy Sam and Princess Embolism as they crawl into her crapped-out Mustang to drive off into the low-lying early morning fog, because the camera's already dragging us off to...

...Bobby's Emporium deep within the lush coastal rainforests of central South Dakota, where Dashing El Deano's anguished expression comes into slow focus just before the camera leaps to the far side of Bobby's living room to take in the slumped, self-pitying stance Our Intrepid Hero apparently adopted shortly after last week's throwdown with Crazy Sammy, and while Dean stares out Bobby's dirt-encrusted windows, the camera scampers around to burrow into furrows of Bobby's wrinkly neck as Bobby calls out, "Dean? You listen to a word I said?" Deeply Depressed El Deano flinches at the sound of Bobby's voice, shakes himself out of his brooding funk, and mutters, "I heard you -- I'm not calling him." Not buying that answer, Bobby warns, "Don't make me get my gun, boy." Hee. At this, Dean finally turns to face his host and complains, "We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon -- don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?" This sets off a screamy, hair-pulling slapfight between the two of them over Sam's purportedly screwed-up priorities and "Stanford" and "déjà vu all over again" and "ZOMG samz being MEEN 2 me!!!!!!!1!!11!" and the upshot of it all is that Bobby quite awesomely erupts into a long-overdue tirade regarding The Complexities Of Familial Interaction, in which he basically calls Dean a whiny princess while screaming that your relatives are supposed to drive you insane, and that Crazy Sammy doesn't owe Dean shit. Several points to Mr. Singer. And then, to top it all off, Bobby claims Dean's behaving exactly like Sucky John did back in the day, and it's this brutally accurate accusation that finally gets Dean to shut the hell up. Our Intrepid Princess spins on his heel away from Bobby to glare out the window while formulating some no-doubt witty retort, but by the time he's spun back around, Dean's been...

...angelically transported to some garish rococo Hell! Well, okay, in all honesty, the 18th Century décor's not that overdone at all, but there's still more than enough gilding on the walls and furniture to choke Reinette Poisson to death, with enough left over to take out several lesser courtiers as well. And as the camera spins around Dean's gape-mouthed shock, My Sweet Baboo magically materializes in the corner of the frame to offer a quiet hello. The two stare each other down for a very long moment until Castiel finally announces, "It's almost time." That doesn't sound good.

Meanwhile, back on earth, Lilith's dietician wheels yet another fresh infant from his mother's recovery room, all the while cooing, "He's a beautiful child -- absolutely scrumptious!" "eeeeeeeeeeeee?!" Raoul tentatively mewls from the depths of his defensive and emotionally scarred curl atop his overstuffed armchair. Why don't you watch the scene that follows and see, my scaly friend? "But...! But...! They've betrayed me so in the past!" Don't worry -- this episode gets better once it gets going. "Really!?" Really. "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" Atta girl. Now, where was I? Oh, yes: Lilith's Dietician starts creepily crooning, "Patty cake, patty cake, baker's man!" at the imperiled fresh infant in her charge as she oh-so-casually rolls the bassinet right past the nursery into a cinderblock utility hall, and her eyes flip a dastardly beetle black while the imperiled fresh infant innocently snoozes away deep within the confining comfort of his swaddling clothes, and just as Lilith's Dietician reaches the rhyme's final verse, she's

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