Supernatural

Episode Report Card
Demian: C- | 2 USERS: B-
YOU GRADE IT
The Hardy Boys Are Not The Droids You're Looking For

Spinal Tap's "Stonehenge" kicks in on the soundtrack as we slam through a brief montage of any true buttrocking hesher's wet dream: The full-on tits-and-sword van "art" covering the side of Andy's present means of conveyance. The barbarian queen is, indeed, straddling a polar bear, with another rampaging at her side as she swings her steely blade into the air, the better to reflect a burst of sunlight from its blade. It's tacky and garish and sexist and gauche and just the sort of thing that would set a guy like Dean to drooling, which indeed he does in the front seat of Metallicar, parked discreetly a half a block away. "I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude," Dean notes. "That van is sweet." Sam, in buzzkill mode, just frowns at him until Dean exasperates, "What's wrong? You look like you're sucking on a lemon." And...it's Sammy's week to be all angst-ridden and mopey and full of self-doubt! Hooray! Not. Seriously, I just went through four weeks in a row of this touchy-feely self-help yoga crap with The Deano, bitch, and it would have been really very nice to have a week off from it all before delving into poor Sammy's tortured psyche. Alas, that is not to be, so let's get through this quickly: Andy, like Sam and Max, the homicidal telekinetic from last year, had his mother ceiling-kebabbed on his six-month birthday in 1983, and Andy, like Max but unlike Sam -- yet -- has now apparently embarked upon a killing spree with the supposed psychic powers he presumably received from The Ceiling Demon -- who, Sam will be quick to remind you, has "plans" for all of his special, mommy-free children. "So [The Ceiling Demon] wants you all out there killing with your minds, is that it?" Dean scoffs. Sam purses his lips and frowns some more. "Give me a break!" Dean growls. "You're not a murderer, Sam -- you don't have it in your bones!" Sam just looks at him, all, "Are you kidding with that shit?" before moping, "Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things." "Those things are asking for it," Dean asserts. "There's a difference." Sam clenches his jaw, and the Capital-I Issue is dropped for the time being, because the boys have caught sight of...

...Andy emerging from a house across the street, sporting a t-shirt, sweatpants, and slippers beneath a deep-green silk kimono-style dressing gown. He pauses to blow a kiss up at a black-negligee-clad bleached blonde perched upon a window seat on the second floor. She waves happily back at him, and he spins around to amble off rather self-contentedly down the sidewalk until he runs into a gentleman apparently of his acquaintance. After the two exchange a few words, the gent agreeably passes Andy his cup of coffee, and Andy smiles off down to the corner, where he runs into the doctor from Sam's premonition. "That's him!" Sam breathes as tense strings abruptly barge onto the soundtrack to boot the jaunty Spinal Tap into the gutter. "That older guy -- he's the shooter!" By the way, I think we were meant to assume -- as Sam and Dean themselves did -- that Andy was deploying some mad mind control skillz to land himself both a busty, bleached-blonde babe and a somewhat used cup of coffee, but the presence of that jaunty Spinal Tap playing underneath the entire sequence makes me think nothing of the sort happened at all. This show, God love it, does tend to telegraph the presence of evil with its music cues, and the deliriously stupid "Stonehenge" is just not the kind of tune they'd use to introduce a psychokinetic serial killer.

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Supernatural

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