Supernatural

Episode Report Card
Demian: B | 4 USERS: A
YOU GRADE IT
Sex and The Single Hardy Boys

Rattle, Rattle BLOOD-RED THEN! Long story short, Princess Embolism healed Grievous Sammy with the mystical powers of her magical undead vagina, and so began Our Intrepid Hero's jaunt down the road of good intentions to The Dark Side, and while Dashing El Deano was most displeased indeed with all of the subsequent secrets and LIES he started receiving from his brother, The Corpse Fucker quite correctly pointed out the fact that Dean had more than a few secrets and LIES of his own. Got all that? Good. Now shut up for the...

...Slashy, Slashy NOW! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! As the blood-red NOW! creeps forward before fading into the blackness, an insistent hammering noise hits the soundtrack, and it's only after the camera's faded up on the interior of a pricey suburban kitchen that we discover the source of all the ungodly racket: A petite little bleached blonde whacking away at a couple of steaks with a deadly looking meat tenderizer, and I am now utterly incapable of paying attention to anything that follows, because I'm waiting for that meat tenderizer to end up embedded in somebody's skull. "WHEEEEE!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, clapping his perfectly manicured paws together in delighted anticipation. "I do so love it when the wanton acts of unrepentant violence arrive so early in the episode!" I know you do, my scaly friend, but you'll have to calm yourself for a few moments, as we have a bit of exposition to endure before we get to the good stuff. "Oh, phoo!" Raoul pouts, feeling cheated. "We know one of the people in this scene is not long for this world, so why on earth must we endure their petty complaints first?! It's not relevant! Why should we waste our beautiful minds on something like that!?" Because it's what I'm getting paid for? "Oh! I do apologize, I'm sure! Please continue!" Thanks.

So, as the petite little bleached blonde whacks away at her steaks, her husband arrives home from a very long day at the office -- according to the clock on the wall, it's 8:30 in the evening -- and they almost instantly tangle themselves up in a spat over the hateful hours his boss has imposed upon him, but both back down quickly enough and apologize to each other with pecks on the cheek and whatnot. As the husband heads over to the fridge for a beer, the wife calls out, "Oh, hey, I ran into Jill Martin today -- Gary's turning 40 on Saturday, and she invited us to the party!" "Whadya tell her?" the husband mumbles, looking annoyed. The camera remains trained on his face, but we can hear the casual shrug in her voice as she replies, "That we'd go." The husband slams the refrigerator door shut so violently, the editors feel the need to loop it into the final cut a couple more times so we in the audience might fully understand its import. "Why'd you do that?" the husband mutters, crossing to lean heavily over the sink. The wife's all, "Buh? I thought you liked him." "Not enough to waste my Saturday night with him," the husband seethes before turning around to glower at her. "I don't believe you!" "It's fine!" the wife insists, all but tossing her hands into the air in surrender. "I'll call Jill and tell her we can't make it." At that, she turns her back on him to twist the switch on a lamp, and that's a very bad move on the wife's part, indeed, for while she's busily futzing around by the end table, the husband's had a chance to creep up behind her and... "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Yep, Hubby swiped that deadly looking utensil off the countertop and is now using it to tenderize Wifey's forehead. By the third blow, Wifey's blood and brain matter are spraying across the wedding photo on a nearby wall, and by the fifth, the METAL TEETH CHOMP's swooped down to gobble all the tasty bits up before hurling us all into the...

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Supernatural

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