Supernatural

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Demian: B | 14 USERS: A+
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The Hardy Boys Freeze Their Butts Off Waiting To Worship A Rat

Bathroom. It's flamingo-themed. Heh. Dean, with his head thrown back, engages in a marathon, sixteen-second-long gargling session while Sam bitchfaces over the bubblegum-flavored toothpaste Dean so obviously purchased for their mutual use. Hee. There follows a bit of business involving an oversized black lace bra Dean supposedly finds amongst Saint Sammy Of The Egregiously Celibate's belongings before Dean at last locates his trusty pearl-handled automatic, which he slides into the back waistband of his jeans so Our Intrepid Heroes can head out to...

...breakfast. Buh? They arm themselves to go to a diner at eight o'clock in the morning? Whatever, freaks. In any event, they enter the greasy spoon just as an old coot named Pickett pays his check, and the two cross behind a twentysomething bum at the counter as the waitress, "Doris," gently reminds this "Cal" person that he can't stay unless he orders something. Cal scrapes together 75 cents, penny by aggravating penny, and eventually orders a coffee. Meanwhile, the boys have taken a booth by the window from which Dean examines the towering specials board and enthuses, "Hey -- Tuesday! Pig 'N A Poke!" Sam hoists his eyebrows into the air at Dean's excessive exuberance and snorts, "You even know what that is?" Dean clearly doesn't, but no matter, for Doris has arrived with pen and pad in hand, so Dean orders the special with a side of bacon -- mmmm, bacon -- and a coffee. Sam opts for coffee and a short stack, and as Doris heads back to the kitchen, Dean suggests they drop their current assignment in favor of hunting down and eradicating Posh Bela once and for all. Sam counters with a couple of snotty remarks before getting to the business at hand: Seems a certain Dexter Hasselback vanished last week while cruising through town on his way to visit "The Broward County Mystery Spot." Dean tosses a skeptical eye at The Mystery Spot's promotional pamphlet just as Doris arrives with their caffeine. Unfortunately, she also arrives with a half-full bottle of hot sauce that she manages to bobble right off her tray, leaving it to shatter and splatter on the floor near Sam's feet. Doris's apologies are profuse, and she bellows for a clean-up just as we...

...leap forward to Our Intrepid Heroes' post-breakfast stroll down this tiny little burg's main drag. A yappy yet admirably restrained golden retriever snaps at their heels as the two amble past, completely ignoring the mangy cur in favor of deliberating the merits of the matter at hand, of which there are none. Well, according to Dean, at least. He dismisses The Broward County Mystery Spot as a tourist trap, but Sam hastens to disagree, noting that there are plenty of places around the world "where holes open up and swallow people," citing both The Bermuda Triangle and The Oregon Vortex, the first of which is complete bullshit and the second of which is yet another scam, so we'll be ignoring everything College Boy here has to say in favor of watching as a distracted blonde body-checks Lil' Stumpy as she passes the boys heading in the opposite direction. Dean offers her a quickly appraising side-eye while the distracted blonde mumbles a hasty apology and keeps moving; Sam natters on endlessly about magnetic fields and the space-time continuum and God alone knows what else, until the two pass a pair of movers struggling with an oversized desk at a storefront's door. "I told you it wouldn't fit," grouses the first mover. "Whaddya want, a Pulitzer?" the second sneers back, and I feel sorry that Raoul so heartlessly teased Darling Sammy earlier regarding the latter's extreme aversion to progressive rock of the early eighties, because I know I'm going to kill myself if I have to listen to that particularly ill-written exchange more than once this evening. "I wouldn't want to hold you to that statement, you silly little man!" Raoul rather predictably shrieks. Shut up, Raoul. "Well! I never!" And you never will if you don't stuff a sock in that gaping maw of yours right now. "Hmph!" So, where the hell was I? Oh, yes: Sam concludes his rambling bout of expository blather by asserting that they'll never prove anything pro or con if they don't check the tourist trap out for themselves, so Dean agrees that they'll break into the place that evening after it closes.

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Supernatural

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