Mental Manor, later that evening. Sam's managed to snag a handful of silver-plated letter openers from the various nurses' stations, and while it seems more than a little odd that a place that's packed to the rafters with schizoids and psychos and various other freaks of insane nature would so casually leave sharp objects lying about, I don't have time to deal with that, because just as Sam's passing the dangerously pointy things to his increasingly unhinged compatriots, Nancy The Nubile Nympho struts on over to unload a gob of spit into Sam's mouth. Dean -- his fragile sense of self-esteem of course wounded by this wanton display -- goes, "Whaaaaaaa?" leading Nancy The Nubile Nympho to blithely explain, "I want him now -- he's larger." HA! "Atta girl!" Atta girl, indeed. And as Nancy The Nubile Nympho slinks back into the shadows from which she initially sauntered, Dean considers the situation for a moment, then shrugs, "You've had worse." Yes. Yes, Dean, Sam has had worse, and then he killed them all with his penis. "Naughty!" Hey, Raoul, cut me a break, here. I just call them like I see them. "Hee!"

Anyway, where were we? Oh, yeah: Sam passes out the wee little dangerously pointy implements of monstrous destruction, then instructs Uncle Martin on the particulars of the plan. Basically, they're going to wait until lights-out, then gank Head Shrink. Uncle Martin -- lulu as he is now in the wake of those never-explained events in Albuquerque -- freaks, flat-out balks at the idea of killing anyone, and bails to go soak it up in a hot tub with his soulmate, so Our Intrepid Heroes are left to their own devices. After confirming Head Shrink is still on the premises, Sam and Dean split up to search each of the building's wings alone, and Sam soon enough finds himself lying in wait in a darkened corridor as Head Shrink, his attention focused on the charts in his hands, obliviously rounds a corner to find... "VIOLENCE!" Yep, Deluxe Action Sammy With Super-Special Glow-In-The-Dark Psychiatrist-Slicing Hands leaps from his hiding place to hack away at Head Shrink's conveniently bared forearm with the silver-plated letter opener until two orderlies fly in from out of nowhere to subdue him, in the process getting their burly asses handed to them. "VIOLENCE! WANTON ACTS OF UNEXPECTEDLY EFFECTIVE UNREPENTANT VIOLENCE!" For yes, gentle reader, just as we know that Something's Not Quite Right With Dashing El Deano, what with the talking to himself and the manic enthusiasm for second-rate John Wayne Gacy knockoffs and everything, we now also know that Something's Not Quite Right With Darling Sammy, because -- as I'm sure you'll all recall -- Darling Sammy usually suh-huuuuuuucks at the hand-to-hand. "It's the crazy!" Raoul excitedly shrieks. "It's the crazy in his brain!" Oh, if only you knew just how right you are, friend of friends. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Head Shrink tears off down the hall with Sam hot on his genuinely horrified heels and, after Sam tackles Head Shrink to the tile but just before he sporks the hapless mental health professional for good, Uncle Martin flies in from out of nowhere to subdue him, for Head Shrink's grievous arm injury isn't sizzling like it should be. Or something like that. Let's have Uncle Martin explain it, shall we? "Let's!" "That cut's not burning!" the inexplicably timely Uncle Martin shouts. Sizzling, burning, whatever. "It's not him!" Uncle Martin continues to pant. "It's not him!" Darling Sammy, more than just a little disgusted with himself by now, drops his wee little dangerously pointy implement of monstrous destruction like the damn thing's suddenly burst into flame and flips his angrily unruly mane around into the next METAL TEETH CHOMP!