Rattle, Rattle BORING NEW TITLE CARDS! Yes, it's yet another new season for this aging wreck of a show and, as always, that new season brings with it a new set of THEN!s and NOW!s and THE ROAD SO FAR!s and such, and wow. Even the title-card guys have thrown in the towel. The style they've settled upon this year basically amounts to little more than a set of spray-painted black-and-white stencils in the familiar Supernatural font against a dreary, mottled, grey-and-white background, and if that's all the effort The Title-Card Guys have deigned to put into these things, I can't imagine how lackluster and crappy the actual episode is going to be. In any event, the black spray paint on one of the Os gets a little drippy for a bit before we snap over into a montage covering the major events of the last two years, and to its credit, THE ROAD SO FAR makes Season Six look a hell of a lot more fun than it actually was. The excellent musical selection for this sequence -- Foghat's "Slow Ride," -- certainly adds to that impression, though to be honest with you, it mainly makes me wish I were watching Dazed and Confused again instead of this episode.
So, anyway, to recap: Darling Sammy went to Hell and all he got was that lousy wall in his head; My Devious Baboo teamed up with Crowley to suck all of the soul-generated energy out of Purgatory, only to double-cross the demon at the appropriate moment; Balthazar, Raphael, and any number of swell beasties bit it; the power of Purgatory's souls turned Castiel into God; and Dashing El Deano stood around looking both pretty and useless for what seems like the last several years. And in the end, as you'll no doubt recall, My Godly Baboo spake as thus: "You will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you." And then everyone giggled when the camera shot straight up his nose.
Rattle, Rattle HIDEOUSLY BORING NOW! The NOW!'s N dribbles a thin line of bitterly black demonic snot down the screen as it advances menacingly towards us before fading into the darkness, and we linger there in the wind-swept murk for a moment until the camera finally fades up to pick up precisely where we left off last May. Well, you know, not precisely where we left off, because that would mean we'd still be halfway up Castiel's goddamned nose, but whatever. My Godly Baboo's still standing there in the middle of Crowley's grue-smeared laboratory with Our Freshly Imperiled Heroes (plus Bobby!) arranged in a gawp-mouthed semicircle around him. "Well, all-righty then!" Bobby perks, and I almost typed "Booby," there, which cannot augur well for everyone's favorite little redneck hairball this season. In any event, Bobby promptly drops to his barely concealed kneepads in response to My Godly Baboo's subtle season-finale suggestion, and just to make sure he's doing it right, he asks, "Is this good, or do you want the whole forehead-to-the-carpet thing?" My Godly Baboo simply stares at him by way of response, so...that's a yes? A no? Anyone? Anyone? Oh, who am I kidding? I totally don't give a shit at this point.