Back at the bar, the same pro who offered Dean a discount now sets her sights on Darling Sammy. The whore receives an enormous pissypantsed bitchface for her troubles, and she promptly wanders off in search of clientele who don't have massive poles shoved up their behinds. Sam spins to light upon the bartender, whom he immediately peppers with questions regarding Dean's whereabouts. Like so many others in this establishment, the bartender -- bless his short, stout, and troll-like middle-aged self -- might be cheap, but he's not free, either, so Darling Sammy's forced to part with a couple of twenties before the bartender offers what he knows, which isn't anything the audience hasn't learned already, save for The Demonically Enhanced Five-Cent Piece Of Ass's actual name, which is Casey. Rude Sammy barely nods his thanks before racing off to Casey's apartment.

Wine Cellar Of My Despair. While I'm happy to have Casey's actual name, and while Jensen Ackles and Sasha Barrese do a marvelous job with what little they've been given to play during these scenes, Casey actually utters the actual line, "Look, we won't have any affect on the outcome of this," and if they're going to discount these scenes' importance by having one of the characters herself admit that there's absolutely no frigging point to them, then why should I bother to pay attention to anything that transpires in this goddamned basement? "Because it's your job?!" SHUT UP RAOUL I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU. "Well!" Oh, can it, missy, with the offended paw so delicately splayed across your chest. You were practically asleep the last two times we were down here, so don't pretend you have any more interest in this BORING CRAP than I do! "Demian, darling! Heaven knows I myself did not sign up for this otherwise delightful little bit of televisual entertainment in order to endure endless ruminations on the nature of good and evil, but that's no call to get snippy with me!" You're right, my faithful lizardly companion, you're right. So, shall I speed through these dreadfully BORING scenes, or what? "Knock yourself out!"

So, The Admittedly Pointless Wine Cellar Of My Endless Despair: Long story short, Demonic Casey and her as-yet-unnamed companion had little to do with Elizabethville's slide into iniquity. Nope, she just had lunch with Mr. Trotter one day and too-innocently noted that he could turn his personal finances around by opening "a few businesses that cater to harmless vice," and the entirely human Trotter took care of the rest. Soon enough, the previously God-fearing streets of Elizabethville were running with booze and corruption, and then Demonic Casey starts babbling about how weak-willed and backsliding the human race is, and Raoul's already snoring away in his overstuffed armchair, and I'm about to be hurled into what has to be my fifteenth COMA of BOREDOM this season, and...