Car. At Raging El Deano's shouty request, Philandering Phil admits to his sordid affair and starts naming names.
Horsey Amanda's. The witch of the house frantically flips through her -- yes, and ugh, and kill me now -- Book Of Shadows until some invisible dark demonic force whirls through her living room, extinguishing the candles. Horsey Amanda darts her crazy eyes around the room during the brief silence that follows, then doubles over in excruciating pain when that same invisible dark demonic force slices a jagged gash lengthways down the inside of her forearm. As Horsey Amanda begs for her life, or something, The Force slashes that forearm twice more before repeating the process on said forearm's opposite. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Raoul shrieks, writhing himself into an ecstatic frenzy over how utterly disgusting this evening's been thus far. Faaaaaaaaab-ulous!" Raoul agrees. Horsey Amanda screams and screams and screams until she bleeds out and flops forward directly into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!, most stickily dead indeed.
Horsey Amanda's. Aftermath. Our Intrepid Heroes pick the lock and enter with their weapons at the ready. "Dirty!" shrieks Raoul. I think the dear thing's still punchy from the earlier festivities, because I clearly meant their guns. "Absolutely filthy!" Oh, whatever, Raoul. So, in any event, Sam and Dean creep through the first floor until they find the witch of this manor splayed across her coffee table, still dead. "Well, that's a curveball," Dean huffs. They start poking around the place until Dean spins around to find...a dead rabbit, dangling from the ceiling! "DUN!" the soundtrack quite literally DUN!s, and if you'll pardon me, soundtrack, I think I'll be the one who decides what's a DUN! around here and what's not, thank you very much. "Why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?" Dean demands, eyeing the mangy rodent's corpse before adding a mournful, "Poor little guy." Heh. Sam redirects Dean's attention to the rapidly cooling witch corpse they have at their feet, and wonders why she went through all the trouble of hexing Janet and Paul, only to off herself in the end. Dean supposes it was one of those love-triangle murder/suicide things you hear so much about on the TV, but unfortunately for this theory, Sam quickly discovers yet another hex bag affixed to the coffee table's underside. "Looks like we got a little witch-on-witch violence," Dean grumps, annoyed that this episode still has twenty-seven minutes left to go, so clearly they'll have to hunt down another frigging coven. Dean makes a hasty call to alert the proper authorities regarding Horsey Amanda's untimely demise, and then Our Intrepid Heroes -- who are still on the FBI's most wanted list, last time I checked -- stand around chatting with each other for four hours instead of getting the hell out of Dodge while the proper authorities race to the scene. Oh, show. Oh, stupid, stupid show.












