...My Sweet Baboo magically yanks his belligerent boyfriend out of Kansas City! "Pretty nice timing," Dean sighs. "We had an appointment," Castiel reminds him with the slightest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth, and My Sweet Baboo is almost as awesome as The United States Army Reserve shooting rage zombies in the face with gas-tipped slugs. "Bite your tongue!" Hey! I said "almost." Almost as awesome. "Oh! I do apologize, I'm sure, but this episode has been so dreadfully boring, I'm afraid my perception of reality has become permanently warped!" Then you'd better go rustle us up some flagons, my scaly friend, because the final scene doesn't get any better. "I shall fly to the wet bar immediately!" I'm surprised you weren't half in the bag by the end of the teaser. "What?!" Nothing! Nothing.
So, where was I? Oh, yes: Dean looks like he's about to weep with gratitude, and he places a hand on Castiel's shoulder, and for an instant I think he's going to hug his angelic boyfriend, but instead, he just looks My Sweet Baboo dead in the eye and says, "Don't ever change." Heh. Dean then pulls out his cell, makes a call he "should have made in the first place," as he confides to his boyfriend, and by early the next morning, he's driven to...
...that trestle bridge we've seen at least five times before on this show. He's arrived early for whatever assignation he arranged and stands there alone for a while, but within seconds, a battered old gold Lincoln Continental wheels around the bend and eventually, Darling Sammy unfurls all fifteen feet of himself from the driver's seat of the thing to walk over to where Dean's leaning against the Impala. And in an opening gesture of trust, Dean presents Sam with The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't. Sam's touched, but remains silent while Dean both apologizes for being a dick and puts forth the following argument: "Look, maybe we are each other's Achilles' Heel, maybe they'll find a way to use us against each other, I don't know. I just know we're all we've got -- more than that, we keep each other human." "Thank you," Sam finally speaks. "Really -- thank you. I won't let you down." They jokingly insult each other to lighten the heavy mood a bit before Sam wonders, "So, what do we do now?" "We make our own future," Dean insists with all the bristling bravado he's known for, but that devil-may-care façade immediately gets blown all to hell when Sam rather helplessly shrugs, "Guess we have no choice."
Next week: Paris Hilton. Hey, Raoul? "Yes!?" I think I could use that flagon, like, RIGHT NOW. "I'm coming!" That's what Paris Hilton said. "Ew!"