...The Abattoir, where fucking Uncle Arthur still refuses to SHUT UP ALREADY AND DROP DEAD. He's now bleeding freely from his scalp and mouth, however, so that should at least please... "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Yeah. Him. And while Raoul writhes around upon his overstuffed armchair, Alastair gets in his only good line of the evening when he sucks back a mouthful of blood and smiles, "It's your professionalism that I respect." Heh.

Out in the antechamber, Anna finally gets to the point by wondering why Castiel's allowing Dean to torture Uncle Arthur. "Isn't it obvious? The guy's a shitty actor," Castiel unfortunately does not reply. Alas, Castiel's actual response is, "He's doing God's work," and Doubting Anna takes issue with this, claiming their Capital-F Father -- the one neither has ever seen, mind you -- would never order such a thing. "One of our superiors, maybe," she allows, "but not Him." Before we get Castiel's reaction to this, though, it's...

...back to The Abattoir, where Uncle Arthur's noisily gargling some holy water, and I don't know how effective this has been on Alastair, but these endless goddamned scenes are certainly torturing the hell out of me. "Who's murdering the angels?" Dean demands once again. Uncle Arthur can't answer, because he's too busy spitting chunks of his esophagus out onto the floor. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Well, at least someone's enjoying this. "It's true!"

"You think He wants this?" Anna asks, incredulous, once we've rejoined the rudely interrupted scene we're actually interested in. "You think He'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?" My poor little sweet baboo winces under the assault of Anna's logic, and she's quick to recognize his expression, correctly identifying it as doubt. Uh oh. Castiel closes his weary eyes and shakes his beautiful feathery head around for a bit until...