The Winchesters drive up to a weedy old junkyard in Sioux Falls. It's only when Dean pauses at one particularly weedy car and lets out a wistful sigh that I realize: this is Bobby's old place. Sometimes the show is subtle and beautiful. "Hello, boys," Crowley greets them "What's that old expression? 'Success has many fathers... Failure is a Winchester.'" He chuckles at his own joke. Nobody else laughs, so he pretends like he's more interested in the tablet than in impressing the brothers with his wit. "Where's the stone?" he asks. "You show us yours, we'll show you ours," Dean says. Crowley can't resist cracking wise one more time: "Really, Dean? I'm trying to conduct a professional negotiation here and you want to talk dangly bits?" For all he acts like he wants to kill Sam and Dean, I think he'd really like to take them out for drinks. What's that old expression? Ah, yes: Many a true word is spoken in jest. They take turns flashing their rock-hard tablets, and then Crowley whips out his long, long contract. Crowley sums up the contents of the contract, but Dean is determined to read the whole thing through before letting Sam sign.
Up in Heaven, Naomi gets a visit from a visibly nervous and rosy-cheeked angel. "What is it, Nathaniel?" she asks when he just stands there. "One of our freelancers has reached out to us," he says. He tells her about Castiel hanging out at the bar, which happens to be in my hometown of Houston. He haltingly adds that the Scribe was with him. Naomi makes a face of displeasure so intense that it may well kill Nathaniel where he stands, since we don't hear from him again for the rest of the episode.
Back at the Junkyard That Time Forgot, Crowley is growing weary of Dean slowly reading through the contract and decides to amuse himself with more taunting. "You know why I always defeat you? It's your humanity. It's a built-in handicap. You always put emotion ahead of good old-fashioned common sense." Says the guy who stays up nights coming up with nicknames for the Winchesters. When it's time for Sam to sign, he nods once at Dean, who slaps a pair of handcuffs on Crowley. "Is this a joke?" Crowley asks. "You realize all I have to do is..." He snaps his fingers, but nothing happens. Dean takes the rare opportunity to gloat. "Demonic handcuffs, jackass -- no smoking, no flicking, no teleporting out. Oh, and no deal, which pretty much means that you're our bitch." Crowley punches him in the face. Dean punches him back, then plucks the Angel Tablet from Crowley's coat pocket. Dean busts out his most gravelly to inform Crowley that he's about to become mortal. "You're the third trial, Crowley," Sam tells him. For the first time, Crowley looks a wee bit nervous.