They say that history is written by the winners. What they neglected to add is sometimes history is written by a bunch of goofs who each obviously got hit upside the head with a wacky noodle. In a hilariously sincere yet tone-deaf episode, Dean and Sam are charged with putting a stop to acts of racial violence being perpetrated by...a killer truck. Don't even TELL me Coretta Scott King isn't rolling in her not-even-dug-yet grave. Dean gets a call from an ex-girlfriend named Cassie (who never met a set of top three buttons she could successfully button) when her father is killed under mysterious circumstances. Please note that HER FATHER WAS JUST KILLED. When the brothers show up at her house the next day she pretty much jumps Dean's bones. So much for the five stages of grief. Once again the brothers have no clue what is going on until someone hands them a batch of newspaper clippings. Even still, they remain in the dark, and so Cassie's mother launches into a confession that somehow manages to call to mind: James Byrd, Jr., Oscar Wilde, the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing, Stephen King, Hairspray, James Brolin, Spike Lee, Mary Todd Lincoln, Knots Landing, and possibly, just possibly, Jules Verne. I KNOW.
After all this, Sam and Dean dispatch the truck -- an assembly of metal and plastic that still manages to chew through this episode like it's working on a rack of baby back ribs -- with an ease that involves merely commandeering an enormous tractor, locating the killer truck that's been submerged for forty years in a large swamp, hooking a tow line to this submerged truck, pulling it out of the swamp (all without getting a splash of mud on their Diesel jeans), then burning the drippy corpse, then conducting a high-speed chase down the back roads of Missouri at the end of which the truck goes POOF! All in a day's work with the wacky noodle, I guess.
Previously: The WB tries to attract an audience for this show by recapping the main story arc before each show instead of creating an opening credits sequence.
Cape Girardeau, Missouri. A car drives along a lonely stretch of road on Route 6. Inside the car, a black man listens to a radio tuned to 107.3, "Your Source for Information To Account for Uncooperative Weather in Vancouver," as the voice broadcasts that the area is experiencing "unseasonably low temperatures reaching below zero." So, I'll give them this one. You can't control weather and, as we'll later see, this show has a few more things to worry about than shooting around a spell of wet snow. Because I have not yet finished my first glass of wine, I'm letting the whole snow in Missouri in April thing go. The radio goes wonky at 9:29 PM, and a huge H2-looking truck comes zooming up behind Friendly Black Man. Lots of truck noises and swerving and screeching and crashing as the truck rams him from behind. Suddenly, the truck disappears, the radio tunes back in, and Friendly Black Man continues to drive along the road lined with reeds until DUN DUN! the truck headlights snap on in front of him. Friendly Black Man slams on the brakes and skids his car around to start heading back the other direction. "Growl! Growl!" says the truck. "Oh no!" say the concerned eyes of Friendly Black Man. "You'll never get away from me now!" says the truck as it really crashes into the back of the car, popping and unlocking the trunk. Friendly Black Man loses control of his car and it swerves this way and that before running off the road and doing an honest-to-God Dukes of Hazzard high-speed leap and flip. Pretty nice execution, but let's hear from our judges. Bo Duke? "I give it Two Adorable Dimples!" Luke Duke: "I give it Three Denim Shirt Snaps." I don't know what any of that means.
But now for the best part of all. The killer truck rolls on over to where Friendly Black Man's totaled car sits steaming and dead-person-containing. The truck is all "in your face, man!" idling about twenty feet away from the wrecked car. It revs its engines a few times, and I imagine that if I were more conversant in Killer Truck Body Language, I'd detect that it is actually taking a comb out of its back pocket and using it to smooth back the greasy hair that had become disheveled during the fight. So it does that, which is admittedly pretty awesome, and then it does something even more awesome: it FLEXES on the other car. It jerks its truck shoulders forward in order to display its manly dominance. Which is awesome, because how many times have YOU seen a truck flex on somebody? The whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite stories I've ever heard, and which you might as well settle back and enjoy! So a friend of a friend was in an ice cream shop in Boston one day enjoying a sweet treat when Fat Joe came in with his posse. And in this ice cream shop, a little cat sat in the corner minding its own business, probably just doing its little cat thing. Fat Joe didn't like the looks of this feline fella and so as he walked by the cat, on his way up to the counter to put in his ice cream order, Fat Joe flexed on a cat. Let me repeat that: Fat Joe flexed on a cat. And now YOU have a new favorite story in all the world. Credits. Pan down in front of a "Service Station" in Bismarck, Kentucky, of which there isn't one. Sam consults a map while Dean finishes up a conversation on his cell phone. Sam thinks he found the quickest way to get to Pennsylvania, but Dean corrects him, "We're not going to Pennsylvania." Dean goes on to tell Sam that he just got a call from a friend whose father was killed the night before and who thinks "it might be our kinda thing." Sam is confused, but Dean insists that "she never would have called if she didn't need us." He starts the car, and Sam gets in.