...this is just asinine, so I'll be speeding through it. The janitor's lounging around his pimped-out digs, leafing through issues of The Weekly World News because The Kripkeeper apparently arranged for some sort of strange cross-promotion with that supermarket tabloid this week, so now this immortal prankster's drawing upon Bat Boy for inspiration, or something. He rises in his red silk boxers and white beater to graze through a buffet of sugary desserts, decides something's missing, and so conjures for companionship two imaginary bimbo stripper whores clad in little more than baby-doll teddies and stiletto heels just as the METAL TEETH CHOMP! arrives to drag all of their tedious and loathsome asses away from my sight.
The next morning, Our Intrepid Heroes arrive at Crawford Hall under the pretense of checking the wiring in a few additional offices. Sam LIES that he left some equipment in the truck, so Dean and the janitor continue upstairs without him. As soon as they've disappeared, Action Sammy barrels downstairs to the basement, where he ransacks the janitor's locker for clues. Unfortunately, the only thing he finds is The Weekly World News.
A short time later, the boys bicker over that bit of evidence as they leave the hall. Under the watchful eye of the janitor, who's eavesdropping on the whole thing from one of the windows above, Our Intrepid Heroes engage in a screechingly loud verbal slapfight over whose is bigger, or something, and then Angry Action Sammy storms off, yelling over his shoulder that Dean should wait until he comes back before confronting the janitor.
Later -- much later, for it's now evening -- Dean's still rather conspicuously loitering around the front of Crawford Hall, waiting for Sam. After pacing up and down the sidewalk one final time, he decides, "Screw this!" and bow-leggedly hops up the stairs to the entrance. Why did he stand there waiting for Sam for hours, you ask, only to enter the building on his own at this very moment? Because the crappy script said so, that's why. Now, shut up and let me get through the rest of this damn thing.
Dean then spends a full ninety seconds of airtime wandering through empty corridors. "BOOOOORRRRIIIIIING!" shrieks Raoul. Finally, at very long last, Barry White's "Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe" arrives on the soundtrack from a lecture hall elsewhere in the building, so fleet-footed El Deano spends another thirty seconds arriving there and opening the door to find the janitor's imaginary bimbo stripper whores lounging around upon a red, canopied bed beneath the twinkling lights of a disco ball atop the hall's stage, and I am not making any of this shit up. Lava lamps abound. The janitor's imaginary bimbo stripper whores stroke their thighs and such as El Deano warily makes his bow-legged way down the auditorium steps to the main floor, but in all honesty, absolutely nothing that's happening onscreen is of any importance at the moment, as this entire set-up's just an excuse to play some Barry White. Really. Trust me on this one. As Dean approaches the stage, the janitor's imaginary bimbo stripper whores crawl across the red velvet bedspread on their hands and knees to coo, "We've been waiting for you, Dean!" Dean, dazed with lust, splutters, "Y-y-you guys aren't real." "Trust me, sugar," The Janitor's Imaginary Brunette Bimbo Stripper Whore promises, "it's gonna feel real," and all of a sudden, I'm getting this bizarre pre-operative transsexual hooker vibe from El Deano and the janitor's imaginary bimbo stripper whores. Well, more from the latter than the former, but you know what I mean. "Come on," The Janitor's Imaginary Blonde Bimbo Stripper Whore simpers through gallons of collagen in her lips, inviting El Deano onto the bed. "Let us give you a massage." "You know," El Deano sighs, "I'm a sucker for a happy ending -- really, I am -- but I'm gonna have to pass," and I cannot believe that line made it past Standards And Practices. "FILTHY!" shrieks Raoul, burying his eyes in his paws in embarrassment for everyone involved with this production.