Back in the present, Jimmy From Pontiac paces alone in this week's motel room while Our Intrepid Heroes hold a processing summit out in the parking lot. "So, what do we do?" Sam wonders. "Whaddya mean?" Dean shoots back. "The guy's got a family -- we buy him a bus ticket and send him home!" Sam tuts that family reunification's not exactly an option in this situation, partly because Jimmy From Pontiac's the only lead they've got at the moment regarding Castiel's current location, but mainly because Lilith and all the other dark demonic forces sent from the flaming maw of Hell likely want to take a poke at the guy's internal organs, too. Dean hates where all of this is going, but agrees to it anyway. Jimmy From Pontiac, however, flat-out refuses to remain in that crappy hotel room with Our Dear Boys, and loudly demands to be sent back to his wife and child, immediately. "We understand," Dean begins. "I don't think you do!" Jimmy shouts. "I've been shot and stabbed and healed, and my body's been dragged all over the earth, and by some miracle, I'm out, and I am D-U-N done!" I perhaps embellished that last part a little bit, but that doesn't matter right now because Jimmy From Pontiac rather firmly concludes, "I've given enough, okay?" Darling Sammy rises from the table to promise they'll release him as soon as they can, but until they figure out what's going on, Jimmy From Pontiac (not to mention his family) is going to be safest sticking with the boys. Jimmy grunts at this and foolishly bolts for the door, only to find his path easily blocked by his fifteen-foot-tall captor. "So now I'm a prisoner?" Jimmy splutters. "What the hell you gonna do about it, you shrimpy little fundie?" Sam fails to shrug. Jimmy fumes.
Much later that evening, Jimmy From Pontiac rolls around on one of the twins, apparently asleep. Crazy Sammy tensely eyes both his special guest and his brother, who's zonked out on the room's other bed, before sneakily -- and crazily! -- tiptoeing out to the parking lot. Meanwhile, back on the twin, Jimmy From Pontiac's eyes pop open. D'OH! The guy wastes not an instant gathering his things while...
...out in the lot, The Ginormotron tippy-tippy-pause, tippy-tippy-pause, tippy-tippy-leaps behind the Coke machine, where he shakily draws a small silver flask from his jacket pocket.
Back at the room, Jimmy From Pontiac slinks out of the door and into the night.
For his part, Crazy Sammy notices not a thing, as he's now focused solely on slurping the last remaining drops of Princess Embolism's demonically enhanced blood from the flask, because Crazy Sammy's Blood Addictions Are In-SANE!, and I...think I'm over this character arc, now. I wonder if there's room on Raoul's overstuffed armchair, because I suddenly feel like I need a very long nap. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! There is not! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Crap. Also: METAL TEETH CHOMP!