RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" Raoul shrieks, as is his wont, before turning to me and inquiring, "Was it true, what you just said? That this evening's presentation is sorely lacking in GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE?!" Unfortunately, yes, but buck up! You can always pass the time making salacious remarks about how readily Jensen Ackles stuffs things into his mouth! "Oh, how pedestrian!"

A battered sedan with Ohio plates splashes through a bit of alleyway filth as the words "One Week Later" appear at the bottom of the screen. The car bounces past the rusting sign for the King's Lair Hotel, and the camera tracks in on the joint's graffiti-scarred entrance for a bit before leaping upstairs to the interior of one of the rooms. Needless to say, given the establishment's establishing shot, the room's a pit. As The James Gang bangs through "Walk Away" on an off-screen radio, the camera pans down past the frayed, faded curtains to land upon The Ginormotron, who's perched on a tatty sofa, attempting mightily to concentrate on the pile of books he has open in front of him on the coffee table, despite the double distraction presented by the music itself and El Deano sloppily chomping away on a carry-out plate of French fries. I, on the other hand, am now attempting mightily to concentrate on this episode, despite the double distraction presented by Jared Padalecki's shoulders and arms struggling to break free from that powder-blue striped button-down of his. Yowza. "Don't forget 'Woof!'" Raoul howls, suddenly baying like a coyote for very good reason. Yum. "You mind not eating those on my bed?" Sam testily inquires. "No, I don't mind," Dean replies, flagrantly shoveling another fistful of fries into his mouth. "How's the research going?" Dean brightly wonders after allowing the massive wad of grease to slide down his throat. "Slow!" Sam snaps, slamming shut one of his books. "You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster?" he rhetorically peeves in Dean's direction. "If I had my computer!" Dean flings a beaming and utterly fake smile into Sam's face by way of response. There's a bit of business about the radio's unnecessarily loud volume before Sam finally suggests in elaborately strained tones that Dean go gallivanting somewhere nowhere near their hotel room for a little bit. "I'd love to!" Dean growls, angrily switching off the radio. "Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell!" Sam starts screaming that he had nothing to do with whatever happened to the Impala just as someone pounds on the door. Startled by the interruption and visibly fighting himself to calm down, Sam rises to answer, and it's Bobby! "Bobby, baby! Bobby, bubbe!" Huh? "Robby! Robert, darling!" What the...? "Bobby, we've been trying to call you!" Oh, Christ. Sondheim? Stop it, Raoul! "Bobby, come on over for dinner! We'll be so glad to see you! Bobby, come on over for dinner! Just be the three of us! Only the three of us! WE LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE YOU!" RAOUL KNOCK IT OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR BROADWAY DEBUT. "Hmph! If they're not going to give me the gore, I should be able to entertain myself anyway I please, shouldn't I?" Not on my dime, missy. Now, quiet!