...Tinkle, Tinkle RAAAWWWR! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I'm so glad you enjoyed that sequence, Raoul. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" And I'm even happier to note that, unlike so many recent episodes, there's more where that came from. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" So, I guess I should just keep this going, then? "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Okay.
Deep within the lush coastal rainforests of southeastern South Dakota, Sad Bobby sits at his desk in the Emporium's study, poring over various leather-bound tomes while chugging voluminous amounts of whiskey straight from the bottle. "Atta girl!" Watching him from the far kitchen archway with worried expressions on their dear little faces are Our Intrepid Heroes and, after a moment, Darling Sammy hisses an urgent "Say something!" in Dashing El Deano's general direction. "You!" Dean soundlessly mouths back, thereby eliciting for himself the most massive of Sam's Massive Bitchfaces, and after a bit more of the whispered back and forth between the two of them, the boys resort to a rousing game of Rock-Paper-Scissors to settle their latest dispute. And in an ominous sign that Things Are Not Quite Right With Our Intrepid Heroes This Evening, Sam actually loses, even though Dim Dean's still obstinately throwing Scissors. Dun-dun-DUN!
Thus so unnervingly defeated, Darling Sammy clears his throat to speak, only to find himself immediately shouted down by Sad Bobby. "You two just gonna stand there like the ugly girl at the prom," Bobby bellows, "or are you gonna pitch in?" Sad Bobby, you see, is now more determined than ever to take down that Eve thing in the wake of Poor Rufus's death, and has in fact been so single-minded in his search for further information on her that he hasn't slept in days, much to the boys' collective dismay. Sam and Dean, God love 'em, make an effort to console Sad Bobby on the loss of his sometime friend, but Bobby -- being Bobby, of course -- vehemently denies that Rufus's untimely demise has had any effect on him at all, and he gruffly orders the two into the kitchen proper to fix him some coffee, pronto. "And make it Irish!" Bobby almost slurs at their retreating backs. "Capital idea!" Raoul shrieks. "After all, it has been rather chilly as of late, don't you agree!? Unseasonably so, in fact!" Knock yourself out, Raoul. Just make sure you get back here in time for the next death, 'cause they really are quite amusing this evening. "Hooray!"