THANK YOU. We've skipped ahead to that evening to find Sam and Dean dousing Kate Fox's earthly remains with salt and lighter fluid. Just as the boys are about to set the whole thing on fire, however, Spectral Kate comes roaring out of the surrounding gloom to knock Darling Sammy onto his remarkably healthy ass. "VIOLENCE!" Dashing El Deano darkly warns "Crazy Eyes" to back off, but Spectral Kate will not be deterred, and as she advances upon him with every last one of her yellowing teeth gleaming in the low beam of Darling Sammy's temporarily discarded flashlight, the ghost screams, "Listen to me! Why isn't anybody listening?" Unfortunately for her, Dashing El Deano's not exactly in the listening mood at the moment, and Spectral Kate finds herself exploding outwards in a massive gout of flame and gooey ghost bits the instant Our Intrepid Heroes ignite the mess in her grave. "Hooray!"
A very short time later, we find ourselves in the wholesome and affirming confines of Good Graces Cafe, where Melanie and Camille have apparently decided to camp out for the duration. Via her cell, Melanie receives the welcome news that Camille's would-be assailant has been vanquished, and she volunteers to escort her friend home. Camille balks at that, because she's still more than a bit on edge after that afternoon's debilitating premonition, so Melanie kindly invites Camille to spend the next couple of weeks at her place. Camille gratefully accepts this gracious offer, and the two head on over to...
...Camille's parlor? Buh? Yeah, I get that they just dropped by to pick up a few of Camille's essentials, but don't you think that could have waited until the morning? "Such a course of action would have been most prudent, indeed!" Raoul wisely opines, and thanks for backing me up on that, friend of friends. "No problem!" Now, where the hell was I? Oh, yeah: As Camille tosses a couple of her essentials into an overnight bag, her incongruously chipper little cuckoo clock strikes two. DUN! The camera goes all shaky and hand-held, so we know dear Camille's not long for this world, and as if to support that notion, the fireplace behind her belches out a sudden burst of flame before an ill wind shoots down the flue to snuff out the blaze completely. Dun-dun-DUN! "Call them back!" Camille demands, all wild-eyed with panic and fear. "Now!"
Crapped-Out Dodge Challenger. Dashing El Deano nonchalantly answers his insistently bleeping cell, only to end up with a screaming earful of frantic Melanie for his troubles. "It's still happening!" she bays. A quick jump back to Camille's parlor reveals that all of the lights around the women have started to buzz and blink and flicker on and off, seemingly of their own accord. Sam snatches the phone from Dean's hand and orders Melanie to grab salt from the kitchen, and here's where everything starts to go nuts with the quick cross-cuts and the extreme close-ups and whatnot, but what you need to know is this: The unquiet spirit of Margaret Fox materializes in Doomed Camille's parlor, and this ghost is creepy as hell. "Eeep!" See? Even Raoul's become unnerved by her cadaverous appearance, and everyone knows there's normally nothing Raoul likes more than a good cadaver. "Eeep!" Don't worry, hon -- it's almost over. So, Melanie lashes at the supremely creepy Spectral Margaret with what little salt Doomed Camille had stored away in her severely understocked kitchen, and while Spectral Margaret does vanish thanks to Melanie's high-sodium onslaught, the ghost's retreat is merely temporary. Sam bellows for them to brandish fireplace pokers instead, but that potential solution goes all to hell when Spectral Margaret telekinetically flings a sideboard at Melanie's back. D'OH! Doomed Camille races to her injured friend's aid, and that's a very bad move on Doomed Camille's part, indeed, for the instant Doomed Camille kneels at Melanie's side, Spectral Margaret rematerializes to tear Camille's head clean off at her neck. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Off screen. "Rats!" And as the loud, squishy sounds of Camille's off-camera evisceration fill the soundtrack, Melanie unhinges her lower jaw to let her howls and wails echo all the way into this evening's next METAL TEETH CHOMP!