...The Patriot Burger Diner, where Sam and Dean have chosen to repair for some much-needed sustenance and research, and D'OH! Their server just happens to be none other than The Pimply-Faced Geek From 7th Heaven! DUN! Dimwitted El Deano foolishly ignores The Pimply-Faced Geek's suspiciously piercing gaze as he retrieves his delicious-sounding Bacon Burger Turbo with Large Chili Cheese Fries from the diner counter and instead returns to Our Intrepid Heroes' table, where there follows a briefly amusing moment in which Darling Sammy diligently mixes dressing into his boringly nutritious Health Quake Salad Shake before the boys chit-chat about Donna's seemingly idyllic home life, which for some stupid reason results in Dean ruminating about the virtues of domesticity, or some such bullshit, until Sam cuts through the crap with a few relevant bits of information he's managed to magically extract from The Wide Wide World Of Web in the last three seconds: Donna's house is actually hundreds of years old, and it's been connected to an unconfirmed legend regarding its first occupant -- a certain "Isaiah Pickett" -- who, in the 1720s, strung up an accused witch named Maggie Briggs in his backyard. They quickly determine this "angry ghost witch" is their most likely poltergeist suspect and plan to split up for further investigation, but that's not important right now because what is important right now is that The Pimply-Faced Geek From 7th Heaven is directing some serious Manson Lamps in Darling Sammy's direction. DUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Later that evening, Darling Sammy exits the Housatonic municipal records building after what I'm certain has been hours of tedious research to give Dean the bad news via his cell phone: "Can't even find proof a woman named Maggie Briggs existed," he mopes as he strolls down Housatonic's misty main drag, "much less where she was planted." Dean's rather sanguine about Sam's massive research failure, however, especially as the case isn't especially urgent -- unlike, say, THE APOCALYPSE THEY'RE IGNORING -- and suggests they regroup back at this week's motel room before hanging up. Sam's about to head...somewhere, I'm sure, when a series of suspicious forest noises erupt from the nearby bushes. He of course stops dead in his tracks to, like, sniff at the air with that remarkably broad nose of his, or something, which gives a certain still-hidden pimply-faced geek all the time he needs to shoot a tranquilizer dart into Darling Sammy's heretofore remarkably healthy neck. Your faithful recapper would try screaming, "DEATH! DEATH TO HIM WHO WOULD HARM THE OTHERWISE REMARKABLY HEALTHY NECK!" at the television screen, but sadly, your faithful recapper's shouts of outrage and dismay pale in comparison to those of his usually faithful recapping companion's during dire moments such as this, so I'm afraid we'll have to watch in silence as Darling Sammy gasps and heaves and grinds down into slow motion before toppling over, face-first, into the ground. Sigh.
Hours later, a thunderclap rouses Sam from his artificially induced slumber, and he wakens to find himself sprawled in the dirt in the midst of some ridiculously photogenic copse of trees, clad in The Pimply-Faced Geek's Patriot Burger uniform. And then, as he struggles to his feet in the downpour that follows, he -- get this -- winces when he fingers the spot on his neck where the dart entered his throat even though he's now obviously occupying The Pimply-Faced Geek's body. And as this is just the first of many, many, MANY glaring errors and missteps in the execution of this evening's central body-swap plotline, I don't know...I don't think I can...I feel like...AAUAUAUAUAUUAUUAAAAAAAUAUUUUUUUGH. "Really! Do be quiet out there! A person can hardly hear himself think!" SHUT UP, RAOUL. SHUT UP, AND THEN SHUT UP SOME MORE, AND THEN DIE. "Hmph!"
GOD! ANYWAY, Sam-In-A-Geek wanders out into the street, where he's met by a conveniently appearing member of The Berkshire County Sheriff's Department, who addresses Sam-In-A-Geek as "Mr. Gary Frankel" before offering Sam-In-A-Geek a ride home, as Sam-In-A-Geek's "family's been worried sick" about him. Sam-In-A-Geek, still not getting it, makes as if to protest, but eventually crawls into the back of the prowler, and the next thing we know, they've arrived at this Gary Frankel person's apparent home, and this Gary Frankel person's apparent parents come spilling out onto the front lawn to assault Sam-In-A-Geek with numerous hugs and questions regarding his recent whereabouts, and we've hereby reached the second of many, many, MANY glaring errors and missteps in the execution of this evening's central body-swap plotline: Colton James is approximately eleven and a half feet shorter than Jared Padalecki, which means that Mr. and Mrs. Frankel, when addressing their supposed son in this scene, should be looking in the general direction of Jared Padalecki's knees, because that's where Colton James's eyes would be were he and Jared Padalecki standing next to each other. Instead, Mr. and Mrs. Frankel -- not to mention The Pimply-Faced Geek's friends later in the episode -- have thrown back their heads in a futile attempt to look Jared Padalecki in the eye, which means they're actually, within the world of the show, addressing a point in space approximately eleven and a half feet above where their son's head would normally be, which, I should note, MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE WHATSOEVER and I HAVE NEVER HATED MY LIFE MORE THAN I HAVE AT THIS MOMENT and THIS SHOW BLOWS and I WANT TO DIE and AAUAUAUAUAUUAUUAAAAAAAUAUUUUUUUGH. "Don't make me come out there!" SHUT UP, RAOUL!
Calm down. Breathe. Deep breaths.
There. It passed. For now. In any event, Sam-In-A-Geek finally -- finally -- catches sight of his reflection in the patrol car's darkened window and finally -- FINALLY -- realizes what the audience has known for THE LAST GODDAMNED TEN MINUTES. Ahem. Sorry about that. And then? METAL TEETH CHOMP!
This week's motel room. Imitation Of Sam admires his freshly purloined physique in the motel room mirror for a moment until Dean enters, wondering where in the hell Imitation Of Sam's been for the last two hours. Imitation Of Sam thinks fast and covers for his inexplicable absence by offering Dean yet another delicious-sounding Bacon Burger Turbo with Large Chili Cheese Fries. "You're gonna want to eat that on the road," Imitation Of Sam cautions. "Why?" barks a puzzled Dean. "The maid came in," Imitation Of Sam begins before gesturing towards the staggering array of automatics, sawed-off shotguns, and pipe bombs on Dean's bed and continuing, "saw that, and now they're all kinda freaking out." Dean would, I'm sure, berate Imitation Of Sam for the latter's stupidity at this juncture, but unfortunately, he has to pee, so he instead bow-leggedly clompy stomps off to the can while ordering Imitation Of Sam to meet him at the car.
Outside, Imitation Of Sam rifles through the Impala's interior for a moment before transferring all of Dean's many, many cell phones from Metallicar's glove compartment to the motel's Dumpster. D'OH! Dean, typically clueless, eventually joins Imitation Of Sam down in the parking lot, and there follows a positively painful and aggravatingly stupid sequence of events wherein Imitation Of Sam gains permission from Dean to drive the Impala, only to throw that magnificent piece of machinery into reverse and ram it backwards into the trash. Oh, Raoul! Where are you now, in my hour of need, to bay for this little fuckstick's head on a platter? "Shoot her! Shoot her in the face! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Crap.
Meanwhile, Sam-In-A-Geek tries to raise his brother by cell phone. When that fails, he rings up Bobby, who of course immediately wheels himself over to Housatonic from his Emporium deep within the lush coastal rainforests of central South Dakota and together, the two quickly figure out what's going on, force The Pimply-Faced