Supernatural

Episode Report Card
Demian: D+ | 2047 USERS: B
YOU GRADE IT
The Secret of the Island Treasure
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Rattle, Rattle THEN!, which I'm pretty sure amounts to little more than the following: Zachariah hates his life, Adam Milligan lost his life, Lucifer has lives to spare, and Dean's about to throw his life away. Got all that? Good, 'cause here comes the...

...Rattle, Rattle NOW! to menace us all for a brief moment before cross-fading into the ether, replaced by an establishing shot of a middle-aged middle-management type punching a couple of buttons on a 1970s-vintage jukebox in a dank corner of a dark bar, and as the middle-aged middle-management type strolls back over to his stool, the inimitable Patsy Cline (or, considering this show's limited budget, a reasonable facsimile thereof) starts in with a little-known gem from the early part of her career. Middle Management eyes the still unseen yet apparently dispirited businesslike gent seated to his left for a moment, takes a swig of his whiskey neat, and attempts conversation with, "Lemme guess -- pink slip?" "That obvious, huh?" the apparently dispirited businesslike gent sighs by way of reply, and by the time he's reached the end of that response, the camera's climbed up to take in his face, and it's...Zachariah, boozing away a pointless afternoon with his ever-present silver-toned tie all mussy and undone and such! "Atta girl!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon whilst raising a pre-prepared flagon in amicable solidarity, for he's learned his lesson after the last couple of pointless episodes, and has entered this evening's presentation armed with a fully stocked cocktails cart at the side of his overstuffed armchair. It's going to be a long night. "[Slurp!]"

In any event, and in what is possibly this evening's best sight gag, while Middle Management obliviously offers a few commiserative syllables about "outsourcing" and whatnot from his side of the bar, Zachariah suddenly realizes what the chatty idiot chose to play, pops his eyes out in utter disbelief and exasperation, and slow-burns a slow turn of his head towards the offending jukebox, looking for all the world like he's about to resurrect poor Patsy Cline just so he can slam her into that fatal Tennessee hillside a couple more times.

Supernatural