Back from the break, Sam and Dean have returned to Trotter's the following afternoon, still looking for The Now-Dead But Still Fucking Unbearable Wop. Our Intrepid Heroes decide to split up, with Dean continuing the search for the unbearable stereotype while Sam trails the former Lions Club president responsible for Elizabethville's current state of decline. Oh, I'm sorry -- did I neglect to mention we've already seen the mysterious Mr. Trotter twice this evening, and that he's being portrayed by the inestimable Don S. Davis of such television classics as The X-Files, Twin Peaks, and 21 Jump Street? "You did!" Now how on earth could I have let that happen? Oh, that's right! The Fucking Unbearable Wop made me do it! Yes, friends, we were introduced to the shady Mr. Trotter during that earlier scene I could not stand to recap properly because of The Fucking Unbearable Wop's presence, and so I offer my apologies.
Meanwhile, back at Bad-Ass Bobby's Black Hills Base For Demonic Research And Slightly Used Auto Parts, Bobby's testing the trigger mechanism on the now-restored Fucking Colt That Can Kill Anything Except When It Can't when he's rudely interrupted by the suddenly appearing and sparkly haired Ruby. "Cute piece!" she perks. Shut up, Ruby. Bobby demands her identity, so Ruby obligingly allows her eyes to flip beetle black by way of introduction. Bobby promptly blows a hole right between her pert little boobies. "Ouch!" Ruby sneers, entirely unaffected by the bullet that's just passed through her body. "That smarts a little!" "Whaddya want?" Bobby warily side-eyes, and eventually, Ruby The Sparkly Haired Demon tells him: "You want me to help you with that gun or not?" Bobby freaks.
Some time later, Sam surreptitiously skulks through the halls of Trotter's office. Dean rings his cell, Sam whispers an order to meet up at the bar in twenty minutes, and the two hang up on each other. Well, that was exciting.
Trotter's Bar. A pro swivels her hips in El Deano's direction and offers him a discount because...well, just look at him, for Christ's sake. Dean frowns. "What do I look like?" "What do I look like?" the whore retorts, because she might be cheap, but she's sure as hell not free. "Cheapskate!" she spits in his face as she stomps off. The Demonically Enhanced Five-Cent Piece Of Ass, who is so cheap she might as well be free, smirks, "Did I just see you strike out with a prostitute? How's that work?" Well, honey, you simply...you know what? So not worth my time, so let's keep this moving, shall we? Long story short, The Demonically Enhanced Five-Cent Piece Of Ass flirts with El Deano for all of fifteen seconds before she's leading him out the door back to her place because...well, just look at him, for Christ's sake. The other bartender glares at her vanishing behind, because she left without finishing her side work.