Meanwhile, down in Pike Creek, Delaware, Mark Pellegrino lumbers down the nighttime sidewalk towards his ominous- and expensive-looking Craftsman-style home and hauls himself up the front steps to the porch just as...an ill wind sets his front gate to squeaking! DUN! Mark Pellegrino furrows his mighty Neanderthal brow to squint at the offending bit of fencing, but the squeaky gate defiantly bangs and bangs and Bangs and BANGS and until it BANGS! its damn fool self right into the very first METAL TEETH CHOMP! of the season, and I might be jumping the gun considerably here, but I'm thinking that things perhaps maybe might possibly not be looking as good for Mark Pellegrino as he'd like them to be, you know? "I do!" Fabulous.
Goddammit. Did I say that was the first METAL TEETH CHOMP! of the season? "You did!" Well, I was wrong, because it was actually the first METAL TEETH CHOMP! fake-out of the season, as we roll from the blackout directly into the next scene, in which a slumbering Mark Pellegrino rolls around uncomfortably beneath his mangy chenille bedspread, eventually kicking the nasty thing off his body only to find himself covered in... "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Oh, this is lovely. Eeeeeeeeeeeee! He could, like, doggy-paddle around his queen-size in that mess. EEEEEEEEEEEEE! Unfortunately, it's just a booze-induced Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder hallucination. "Rats!" Or is it? "Eeep! You mean?! Could it be!? Is it possibly?!" Spit it out, Raoul. "SATAN!?" You dizzy little lizard. "What?!" Mark Pellegrino was hired last spring to play Lucifer this season -- where the hell have you been? "...!" Oh, that's right. "...!!!!" Jail. "SILENCE! I WILL HAVE SILENCE IMMEDIATELY!" Becalm yourself, my impressively fanged companion, because I'm certainly not going to get into any of that now. "You hadn't better dare!" Calm, because first I have to deal with Mark Pellegrino collapsing back into the bed, where he flops onto his side to find...his bloody dead wife staring him in the eye! DUN! "Eeek!" See? Surprising, wasn't it? "It was indeed! I absolutely might have a fit!" Just for the hell of it, I'll assume you're not being sarcastic and suggest you go fix yourself a flagon, so I can keep on with the scene. "Thanks! And I shall!"