Once Sam and the guard have passed out towards the stairs, Dean stares the shifter down for a long moment before loping over and jerking his head towards the antechamber with a too-casual, "Hey, can I talk to you a second?" The shifter, knowing he's busted, cracks, "You got the gun, man -- whatever." And then, with lightning-quick reflexes and near-super strength, the creature yanks the revolver from Dean's grip right before slamming Dean across the chamber into a wall. While Dean, stunned, tries to pick himself up off the ground, the shifter tears up the stairs and through the main lobby as poor, doomed Ron chases after him. As the shifter disappears into the warren of hallways in the back of the building, Sam and the ailing guard turn just in time to watch Ron stop and take aim. In a couple of really nice touches as Sam spots the red laser sight from a sniper's rifle dancing across Ron's back, the scene grinds down into near slow-motion and all sound cuts out, save for a slight tinkle of glass as the sniper's bullet breaks through the window, followed by two quietly sharp, slicing noises as the bullet rips into Ron's back and exits through his chest. Sam's silent scream of "Get down!" is for naught, and Dean, finally emerging onto the main floor, can only scramble for cover of his own in a corner as Ron, with a look of wide-eyed shock, drops first to his knees before plowing face-first into the marble floor. The camera shoots in on Dean's panicky and horrified face before everything vanishes into the METAL TEETH CHOMP! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee! That was faaaaaab-ulous!"
Bank. Chaos in the street. Escaping hostages in the vault. And one very large dead man on the marble lobby floor. "Gore?" Raoul whimpers. Soon. I promise. Our Intrepid Heroes scamper together behind one of those antique lobby stands, and Sam slips the key to the front doors' padlock off his wrist and presses it into Dean's hand, telling his brother to escort the ailing guard out to the paramedics while Sam chases after the shape-shifter. Dean, still more than a little stunned by recent developments, crawls around to offer a few valedictory words at poor, dead Ron's rapidly cooling corpse before grabbing Ron's rifle and exiting to reenact the scene from the top of the hour. The camera cuts over to Ron's pallid face, and a thick stream of blood pours from his mouth to spread across the floor! "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Raoul shrieks again, this time kicking his feet around into the air as well as he wriggles around in his overstuffed armchair with exuberant glee. "I almost felt bad about my reaction to that," Raoul admits once he's calmed himself a bit, "but then I thought, 'Well, after all, they're the ones who decided against sentiment by having the gore drip from his mouth in the first place, so why not?!'" Why not, indeed, Raoul. Why not, indeed.