Becky's Skype, uh, rings, or whatever the hell Skype does, and it's Gay Guy, and as Darling Sammy eavesdrops from the bedroom, Batshit Becky confesses she's dragged Sam up to her parents' cabin in the woods because Gay Guy's magical elixir wore off, and she didn't know what else to do. She also admits that she and Sam have yet to consummate their annoying marriage, for whatever that's worth, and Gay Guy instructs her to meet him in an hour, at which point he'll presumably have more of that magical elixir ready and waiting for her. They hang up on each other, and an argument instantly erupts between an outraged Sam and his certifiably insane and increasingly desperate bride, and long story short, when Sam's mouthy accusations get to be a little too much for Becky's fragile ego to handle, she shoves a tea towel into his mouth and bolts for her meeting with Gay Guy. Are we done here? "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Good.
The Only Restaurant In Town. Batshit Becky barges in to find Gay Guy busy with the final preparations for that evening's reunion, but he smilingly accommodates her frantic interruption and sits her down at a table to offer her a soothing cocktail. Becky declines, because she's an idiot, and eventually, they get around to revealing what anyone with half a brain figured out about forty minutes ago: Gay Guy's actually a Sassy Crossroads Demon, in town to take advantage of all those hapless losers who've found themselves agonizing in the throes of despair at the mere thought of attending their high school reunion, and if Becky wants to regain her lost control over Darling Sammy, she'll need to be trading her soul, pronto. Becky proves she's been paying attention tonight by noting that Gay Guy's previous clients all seem to have met with suspiciously early deaths, but he promises the same will not be happening to her. In fact, if she vows "not to breathe a word about this to the Winchesters," Gay Guy's prepared to offer her a super-special, one-time-only deal: Twenty-five full years of wedded bliss with Darling Sammy, guaranteed. Batshit Becky hesitates, tears welling up in her eyes for whatever reason, but she eventually bleats, "I think I'll have that drink now." "ZZZZZZ -- atta girl! -- ZZZZZZZ!"
Batshit Becky's. Dean and the perpetually useless DJ Qualls pick the lock and tippy-toe their collective way through the door to ransack the place. Eventually, Dean determines that Batshit Becky's spirited Whammied Sammy away to her parents' cunning little vacation cabin nestled away on the tranquil shores of scenic -- wait for it -- "Loon Lake." Please don't ask for the details. Trust me: You don't care.