Episode Report Card
Demian: C- | 2 USERS: A-
The Hardy Boys Just Have Their Party On TV

...gasping awake in the utter blackness of this week's motel room as a semi whines past out the windows. Sweet.

Next thing we know, Our Intrepid Heroes and their bobbing flashlight beams wander down the main, smoke-filled hallway of an apparently still-active industrial building while the heavily damaged overhead fluorescents struggle to remain lit. The boys climb some stairs to the second level and find the floor a complete ruin, with collapsed cables and ceiling trusses twisted into tangles on the concrete at their feet as blasted fuse boxes shoot off sparks around their heads, and they speculate as to the possible causes until Dean's flashlight lands upon a bloody sigil swabbed onto one of the walls. "Recognize that?" he asks Sam, before reminding The Ginormotron of the season's absolute worst episode by noting Anna used something similar to "wish the angels back to the cornfield," and Dean! Dean, Dean, Dean! I realize your remarkably healthy and broad-shouldered younger brother's been fucking a corpse for nearly a year now, but attempting to punish him by dredging up the memory of "Heaven And Hell"? That's just cruel, dude. Heeding me not, Dean instead chooses to swing his flashlight beam across the floor for a few more passes, and that's a very fortunate move on his part indeed, for the last of those passes uncovers...Castiel, lying unconscious amid the wreckage! DUN! Our Dear Boys race to My Sweet Baboo's distressingly injured side and shake him awake, but there's a problem: The disoriented, fluttery schmuck who greets them is not My Sweet Baboo at all! DUN! Again! Nope, Castiel's apparently withdrawn for whatever reason, and Sam and Dean find themselves shouting at this "Jimmy" person Castiel left behind. "Where the hell is Castiel?" the Ever-Suspicious El Deano growls while Darling Sammy flails about helplessly in the background. Jimmy, apparently completely gobsmacked by the entire presumably violent depossession process, finds himself capable of little more than shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head before he whispers, "He's gone!" And with that, everyone involved gets beaten about the face and neck by the...

...Flutter, Flutter RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, and hello there, my unusually quiet recapping companion. Nice of you to join us. "Nice to be here, I'm sure!" Uh oh. "What?!" I detect sarcasm. "I'm sure I haven't the faintest idea what you mean, you charming little man!" Raoul shrieks all faux-agreeably, disingenuously batting his lengthy eyelashes in the general direction of yours truly for added emphasis, and knock it the hell off, Raoul. What gives? "Well, I am sorry, I'm sure!" Raoul shrieks, dropping the act and flopping back against the cushions of his overstuffed armchair in a fit of exasperation. "But fishing!? Really?!" I sense you disapprove of the chosen activity for this evening's teaser, my scaly friend. "You sense correctly!" I see. "Honestly!" Raoul continues, working himself into quite the little tizzy indeed. "That darling little Rue McClanahan lookalike in the opening scene was doing it all wrong! Where were the hand grenades!?" Oh, dear. "Whither the GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE?!" Now, Raoul, you know I love you more than my luggage, but the point of that sequence was to-- "SILENCE! I refuse to continue with your little story until they go back and do it right!" Well, that's not going to happ-- "REFUSE!" Oh, fine. Here:

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