"Really and for true?!" Why, hello, traitor. "Well, I am terribly sorry, I'm sure!" Raoul shrieks, not terribly sorry at all. "But after that dreadfully unfortunate hour with the last Manwitch they featured on this usually charming little Thursday-evening divertissement of ours, I simply couldn't bear it! I'd have gotten so I'd be afraid to turn around, for fear of what will happen next!" Don't go quoting Bette Davis movies at me, lizard. "Hee!" Now, go whip us up some flagons while I tell all of these good people what's supposed to happen next week. "Okay!"
So, yeah: Remember that fallen angel Dean had hateful Celine Dion sex with in the Impala's back seat? The one My Sweet Baboo banished to Heaven as a result of that disgraceful transgression, so she might receive a none-too-gentle reprogramming at the hands of his superiors? She's back, and she's traveling back in time to slaughter Burnt Mary and Sucky John on the eve of Dean's birth, thereby eliminating Lucifer and Michael's destined Vessels, thereby eliminating that Apocalypse that everyone's been ignoring for the last three months. Wow, Anna sucks. See you then! "Flagon-flavored kisses for all of my pretties! Mwah!"
Demian wasn't really serious with that crack about Eric Kripke's mother. Raoul knows better. "You hateful little man!" You may reach the former at firstname.lastname@example.org. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon still under house arrest on the Internet.