The Metallicar pulls up in front of a house. Sam exposits, "Here we are. George Phelps, Seat 20C." Dean gets out of the car and says, "Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you could open an emergency door during a flight." Dean clearly never had to watch Angel Dusted in high school health class. Sam suggests George was perhaps "a creature in human form." Dean points out that the lovely Tudor-ish house does not really look like a "creature's lair."
Inside the house, the brothers harass a widow. A hot widow. Way too hot for Phelpsie. George was a dentist by trade, which confirms that he in fact was fundamentally evil, quaint house and hot wife notwithstanding. The wife tells the brothers that George was scared of flying, and Sam asks her if she ever noticed anything "strange" about George during their thirteen-year marriage. Boy clearly doesn't get that one's spouse does something "strange" pretty much every hour on the hour. That's a lot of "strange" to bother noticing. George's wife replies blankly, "Ah, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean?"The brothers walk down the front steps of the property. Sam is nonplussed over not turning anything up, while Dean remarks, "Yeah, middle-aged dentist with an ulcer's not exactly evil personified," and then says they need to get into the NTSB warehouse to take a look at the wreckage. Sam agrees, and adds, "If we're gonna go that route, we better look the part." Cue Dressing-Room Montage Guitars!
We pan down on the storefront of "Mort's for Style" while Black Sabbath wails in the background. The brothers emerge wearing full on Men in Black/Cigarette Smoking Man/State Farm Insurance get-ups. I feel totally robbed! I truly thought I was going to get a Dressing-Room Montage where Sam asks Dean if these pants make him look fat and Dean hops out of his dressing room and mugs around while wearing a gold lamé leisure suit. Sigh. I just have so many great ideas for this show. ["The season isn't over yet. Keep hope alive!" -- Sars] Dean isn't happy: "Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Sam reassures him by telling him, "No you don't. You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance." Dean tantrums some more and they get into their very non-government-issue Impala and chug off toward the warehouse.
Cut to the boys flashing their fake badges and a security guy nodding in approval, all still to the strains of "Paranoid." Inside the warehouse, Jokey Montage Music fades into Plinky Xylophones of Mystery as the brothers continue their Sisyphean walking. Sam asks what Dean is holding, and Dean tells him it's his "EMF reader. It reads electromagnetic frequencies." Sam is all, "No duh," and asks him why "that one looks like a busted-up Walkman." Dean stops and turns to his brother and seriously tells him that if he thinks this prop looks stupid, he's not going to be happy with the plastic spiders that are in his future. But perhaps my levity here is misplaced, because what Dean really says is, "Because that's what I made it out of. It's homemade," and gives this adorably proud smile, only to get completely shat upon by stupid Sam, who snarks, "Yeah. I can see that," like, really great comeback, you big wet noodle. Anyway, Sam hurts Dean's feelings and thus earns my wrath. Lots of walking and swinging around of EMF detectors. Best scene ever! Dean stops at the emergency door handles and scratches at the black soot covering it. As Sam leans in to collect a sample, Dean wipes his finger off on the back of Sam's jacket. I would have preferred him to administer a sooty wet willy.