Meanwhile, Castiel, Dean, and Bobby stand outside an electronics store, watching a bit of breaking news courtesy of KPIT Detroit, and the general economic situation in southeastern Michigan must be even more depressing than any of us had previously imagined, because KPIT apparently can't even afford to maintain a satellite link to its network, which is why they're recycling disaster footage from some shitty Pierce Brosnan movie to illustrate the destruction caused by several large-magnitude earthquakes that hit Portland, Boston, Hong Kong, Berlin, and Iran within the last fifteen minutes. "So, what do we do now?" Dean demands. Find a better TV station? Just a suggestion. Though I do like Castiel's alternative more: "I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol and just wait for the inevitable blast wave." Atta girl. "Indeed! [Slurp!]" Dean, however, fails to appreciate My Sweet Baboo's sage and nuanced advice, and in fact goes so far as to call him a "junkless sissy" during a mini-tirade in which Deluded El Deano insists they can still put a stop to the horror unfolding around them. Bobby's certainly no help, as he's got hot girly tears standing in his eyes at the moment, so Dean turns back to Castiel, who calmly insists, "Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, then The Battle Of Armageddon begins." And where, precisely, would this "chosen field" be located? "I don't know." D'OH!