This Week's Motel Room. Crackie The Crackheaded Crackormocrack's all sweaty and panting and such in the bathroom because he's jonesing for a great, big crack rock cookie sprinkled with fresh crack, but Dean and Castiel are too busy to notice because they're yammering about Horsemen-related details the audience already learned months ago. Finally, Crackie cracks, and orders Dean and Cracktiel to handcrack him to the crack before barricracking him in the crackroom with a crackoire because crack crackety crack-crack-crack. Crack. CRACK!
Morgue. Guess what? Doctor Corman drank himself to death last night, but nobody's been by to "harvest his soul yet," because The Reapers are addicted to crack now, too. CRACK!
Morgue. Stakeout. Dean patiently waits for one of Famine's underlings to retrieve Doctor Corman's soul while Cracktiel cracks down on his three zillionth crackburger. Eventually, the underling exits the morgue, boards a Bronco, and drives off into the night with the Impala hot on his crack. Or something like that.
Crackroom. CRACK! Crackie hears crack noises coming from the other crack of the crack, and cracks out to the arrivals, cracking that it's his crack with their crack. Actually, the arrivals are two of Famine's henchdemons, who are very pleased indeed to find Crackie all trussed up for them. They're apparently under orders to deliver Crackie to their lord and master, so the male henchdemon moves to uncrack Crackie from the crack, but no sooner has the henchdemon freed Crackie's hands than... WHAMMO! For while Darling Sammy might suh-huuuuuuck at the hand-to-hand, Crackie The Crackheaded Crack-Crack is actually quite adept as far as all that goes, and he quickly smashes the female henchdemon through this week's motel room's glass-topped coffee table, whereupon he plunges a jagged shard of the table's remains into her jugular, the better to suck down some of that sweet, delicious crack. "Glalalalalalaalallalalalllaalalalah!" The male henchdemon flies to the aid of his companion, but by that point, Crackie's had enough crack to hoist his Mighty Crack Of Discontent into the crack and send the male henchdemon telekinetically flying crack-over-crack into this week's motel room's far crack, where the male henchdemon cracks to the floor, uncrackscious. And through luridly crack-stained lips, Crackie The Crackheaded Crack-Crack cracks, "Wait. Your. TURN!" "Glalalalalalaalallalalalllaalalalah!"