The camera roars forward, angling itself around the various corpses on the floor, and as it reaches My Sweet Baboo, Crowley himself calls out, "Really, Castiel, this is getting ridiculous." Dun-dun-DUN! "How many times am I going to have to clean up your messes?" Crowley mildly wonders, and the camera gets all up in My Devious Baboo's steely-eyed grille for a moment before we cut abruptly to black.
I enjoyed that far more than I thought I would. "So did I!" I still think the seventh season's going to suck, though. "So do I!" Care to handle next week's promo? "No!" Shit.
So, next week's apparently devoted to Castiel's season-long backstory, and will apparently explain this episode's supposedly massive twist. I think. As long as they leave that Jimmy Novak moron out of it, it might be okay. Maybe. See you then! "Kisses!"
Demian is inordinately impressed by episodes with huge body counts. Raoul's just happy they referenced Mommie Dearest. "My babies! Someone stole BOTH my babies! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" You may reach the former at firstname.lastname@example.org. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.
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