A short time later, Ash has located the municipality whose buses bear that "Blue Ridge" logo from Sam's premonition: Guthrie, Oklahoma. And if any of you were familiar with this particular ghost story, you might have been able to guess tonight's shocking twist long before the show itself revealed it. Long story short, Ash, using Daddy Shut Up's nonparametric statistical overviews and cross-spectrum correlations, can't find any sign of The Ceiling Demon in or around Guthrie, so Sam asks him to try a different set of search criteria: House fires in 1983 originating in the homes' nurseries the night of the children's "six-month birthday." Jo and Ash shoot Sam the hairy eyeball while Dean frets. Eventually, Ash starts flapping his mullet around, squinting, "That is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be looking for that?" Sam slams a unopened beer bottle in front of him and notes, "'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya." "Give me fifteen minutes," Ash replies, because having him offer an homage to Blue Velvet at this moment would never have made it past Standards And Practices. "Fuck that shit!" shrieks Raoul, for he knows full well that Dennis Hopper was one suave fucker, you fucking fucks.

Some time later, the roadhouse's pretty much shut down for the evening, and Jo punches a couple of buttons on the jukebox before she starts her close work. And the first song that pops out? REO Speedwagon's "Can't Fight This Feeling." Dean, nursing his last beer at the bar, looks up slowly in horror. Hee! Jo pauses for a moment out of his line of vision to smirk to herself, then nonchalantly lifts a tray from a table to deposit it on the countertop. Dean lifts his eyes from the jukebox to hers with disgust. "What?" she challenges, hand on her hip. "REO Speedwagon?" he eyebrows, puckering out the ducky lips in wild disbelief. "Damn right!" she replies, advancing upon him with a sort of mock indignation he's either too drunk or too grossed out to notice. "Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart," she insists. "He sings it from the hair," Dean corrects. "There's a difference." Not with a lot of the glorious crap you listen to, Deano. Rush? Billy Squier? Ratt? Get a grip. Anyway, Jo realizes this banter over musical tastes isn't providing her with the conversational opener she thought it would, and so drops it all to try a more direct approach. After ensuring her mother's out of earshot at the far end of the bar, she delicately inquires, "That profile you've got Ash looking for? Your mom died the same way, didn't she?" Dean immediately goes on the defensive, stiffening his spine on the barstool, and you can practically hear his brain slamming down the iron gates protecting Sammy's secret even as he replies with a friendly enough, "Look, Jo, it's kind of a family thing." She nods in acknowledgement, but still continues, "I could help." "I'm sure you could," Dean allows, "but we gotta handle this one ourselves." "Besides," he adds, "if I ran off with you, I think your mother might kill me." Along with a couple hundred rabidly frothing fangirls, my friend. "OMG THAT HORE TURN DEAN INTO A CHILD MOLESTORER N MADE HIM RUN OFF WITHER SLUTTY FAT B*TCH ASS!! I'M NOT SYCOTIC I'M TELLING YOU TEH TRUTH!!!111!!!" But let's leave them out of this, because Ellen's Spidey-sense kicked in at Dean's mention of her magnificence, and she pauses from futzing with a sugar shaker to pull a quizzical double-take in his direction. Dean offers one of his elaborately sincere friendly smiles in response. "You're afraid of my mother?" Jo teases. "I think so," Dean nods, never taking his eyes or his smile off Ellen. Hee. Just then, Sam pants up with, "We have a match -- we gotta go." Jo either looks disappointed or stupidly simpers like the sickeningly half-dressed CHILD WHORE that she is, depending upon whether you're indifferent to her presence thus far on this show or are one of those couple hundred rabidly frothing fangirls I mentioned earlier. Which, you know, if you're the latter, what the hell are you doing here?