Fortunately, it's at this point that Darling Sammy finds the remainder of the remains in the late Jimmy's bed, and he salts and burns the entire set, thereby...
...exploding Spectral Margaret upwards in a massive gout of flame and gooey ghost bits back at The Manse. And with that bitch of a sequence complete, we head into this evening's final commercial break most woefully CHOMP!-less. "Eeep!" Really, Raoul? You're still paralytic with fear? "Eeep!" I'll take that as a yes.
Good Graces Cafe, and let's wrap this up quickly, shall we? "Eeep!" Poor Raoul. Anyway, Our Intrepid Heroes chit-chat over coffee for a bit until Melanie stops by to bid Dean a fond farewell. The two agree that, had they met under happier circumstances, their flirtations might well have led to something more, but they didn't, so whatever.
After that's over with, Dean emerges from the cafe to find Sam loading his meager belongings into the crapped-out Dodge Challenger's trunk. Long story short, Sam graciously admits he understands why Dean killed Dead Amy, but he still wonders why Dean's been drinking so much as of late if he's certain his actions were justified. Dashing El Deano promptly whaps Stupid Sammy upside the head for being such a gigantic moron and tells him to get his dumb ass in the car, now. You know, more or less. And once they've settled themselves in, Sam sighs, "I still want to know how that guy bent my spoon." "Forget it, Sam," Dean deadpans. "It's Lily Dale."
Oh, my CHRIST, that last line sucked.
Next week, Darling Sammy gets married. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go whip up a few healing flagons for the lizard. The poor dear's been frozen in place atop his overstuffed armchair for at least the last hour and a half. "Eeep!" See you next week!
Demian should accept that this evening's most awesome presentation represented an utterly bizarre anomaly in the otherwise unbroken downward trajectory of this show, and he therefore should not get his hopes up again for the episodes still to come, right? Raoul has no answer for that, for the dear, dizzy lizard remains paralytic with fear. "Eeep!" You may reach the former at firstname.lastname@example.org. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.