...the main ballroom, where Chuck's just bringing The First (And Only) Annual Supernatural Fan Convention to its much-awaited-by-me close. Unfortunately for me, Darling Sammy rushes the stage at this moment to whisper something both urgent and eminently guessable into The Prophet's ear. "Holy crap!" Chuck explodes. Sam whispers that Chuck's got to figure out a way to keep everyone in the ballroom until the boys vanquish the murderous brats. Chuck obligingly launches into an ad-libbed spiel about impending plotlines while Dean herds the hotel's employees into the ballroom, after which he and Sam lay down thick lines of salt at the exits. They next bang their heads together for a quick processing summit during which they wonder how they'll escape to salt and burn the murderous brats' bones, and I'd suggest they break a goddamned window, but that's too obvious a solution I suppose, so Dean decides to enlist the aid of Fake Drag-Queen Raoul. You see, Actual Drag-Queen Raoul had apparently been keeping the murderous brats in check for the last hundred years, so the plan is to have Fake Drag-Queen Raoul pose as her actual counterpart in order to lull the murderous brats into a false sense of continued imprisonment, or something, and once Fake Drag-Queen Raoul gets the murderous brats to release their collective hold on the hotel's various points of egress, Our Intrepid Heroes can once again do what they do best. Got all that? "I do!" Good, because I really don't want to have to explain it again.
Needless to say, Fake Drag-Queen Raoul is less than enthused to be a part of this plan, partly because she's already encountered the scalped wretch herself during a brief scene I decided to skip, but mainly because she's not really an actress at all. "I work at Hooters," Fake Drag-Queen Raoul reveals. "In Toledo!" Heh. Blubber and The Brain interrupt at this point to offer their services, so Dean tells Sam to give Fake Drag-Queen Raoul "the puppy-dog thing" -- hee! -- while he deals with the unruly supposed Television Without Pity staff members. "Guys? No!" Dean insists. "Why not?" bleats The Brain. "Because this isn't make-believe!" Dean hisses. "If all these people are seriously in trouble," counters The Brain, "we gotta do something." "Why?" Dean shoots back. "Because that's what Sam and Dean would do!" Blubber replies. Dean is impressed with their moxie, or some such bullshit, and so, as Chuck explains that "there's really no such thing as a Croatoan Virus for Down There" and suggests that his questioner see a doctor, Our Intrepid Heroes plus Blubber and The Brain plus Fake Drag-Queen Raoul flee the ballroom to set their ridiculous plan into motion.