ANY-way, Castiel somehow manages to pull himself together at the bottom of the stairs and straggles to his feet, only to have Raphael bop him on the top of his head with the hilt of yet another Angel-Smiting Scimitar. "Somehow," Raphael intones, clearly enjoying the sound of his own mellifluent voice as he twirls that scimitar around so its pointy end is all but poking My Sweet Baboo in the eye, "I don't think God will be bringing you back this time." Things are looking mighty grim, indeed, for everyone's favorite angel, so it's quite fortunate that Belthazor decides to pop back in at this point to smite Raphael. "VIOLENCE!" Not this time, I'm afraid. "Phooey!" Nope, this time around, Belthazor simply removes a glowing crystal from his pocket and waves the thing around in Raphael's face, at which point the smug archangel turns, eyes first, into a rapidly disintegrating pillar of salt. "Same thing happened to Lot's wife," Belthazor needlessly explains before enthusing, "Ionize the poor sucker, and your kitchen is stocked for life!" Shut up, Belthazor. "DEATH! DEATH TO ALL EUROTRASH WHO WOULD MAKE SUCH HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE JOKES!" I'm sure Belthazor won't last the season, friend of friends, but unfortunately, he won't be dying anytime soon. "Oh, poop!" Aw. Don't pout. "Hmph!" Tell you what: Since they're not getting rid of this grease stain tonight, and since the episode's almost over, why don't you go whip up us a couple of tasty flagons instead of sitting through the crap that remains? "Capital idea, if I do say so myself!" Atta girl.
And as Raoul toddles off to...wait. Where the hell was I? Oh, yeah: So, Belthazor and Castiel trade a few more remarks of no importance to anyone, and Belthazor's about to snap his fingers and disappear again when suddenly appearing El Deano once more pops up from out of nowhere to flick open his Zippo and ignite a conveniently appearing circle of holy oil around Belthazor's feet. I'd call bullshit on all of this, but as I believe I noted in the previous paragraph, this episode's almost over, so I'm going to let this crappy bit of abject nonsense slide. Long story short, Our Intrepid Heroes threaten to immolate Belthazor with a jug of holy oil (I think) unless the dirtbag angel releases the hold he has on Aaron Birch's soul, because God knows we should all still be caring about that pathetic little assclown so late in this evening's goddamned presentation. Belthazor snipes and sneers and whatnot, but eventually complies. "Why you buying up souls, anyway?" Dean snaps. "Do you have any idea what souls are worth?" Belthazor snaps back. "What power they hold?" No, we don't, actually, so why don't you explain it for us? Oh, what's that? You'd rather keep your simpering mouth shut on the matter while Castiel smothers the circle of flame that surrounds you, thereby allowing you to escape? Well, fuck you too, Belthazor. Castiel decides to flutter away as well with no further explanation, and so Our Intrepid Heroes are left to rage their way alone into this evening's final METAL TEETH CHOMP!