...skip ahead to This Week's Motel Room, where Our Intrepid Heroes have already realized they're dealing with variants on the traditional Plagues Of Egypt. You know, from the Bible. Super-Smart Sammy's also unearthed Christopher Birch's backstory. Seems the kid was shot in the head last month after a "vehicle pursuit," and the officers involved -- yep, Hatch, Gray, and Colfax -- filed identical reports after the incident. Identical reports that claimed Christopher Birch emerged from the vehicle brandishing a firearm, so the officers had little choice but to plug him full of holes. Given Officer Colfax's dying utterance regarding the planted gun, the boys next realize they've got someone or something rather aggressively seeking vengeance for the dirty shooting, and the talk soon turns to the angels, who after all have little to do now that The Apocalypse has been averted. "We should call Castiel," Dean grunts, though he uses that unfortunate nickname I swore I'd never type rather than My Sweet Baboo's full name. Sam testily reminds his brother that Castiel answered exactly zero of his many, many pleas for guidance and assistance over the last year, but Dean decides to give it a shot, anyway, like so: "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here." "You're an idiot," Sam snits. "Stay positive," Dean counsels. "I am positive," Sam insists, but as he's said before, "The son of a bitch doesn't answer." Soft, fluttery noises hit the soundtrack. "He's right behind me, isn't he?" Sam dejectedly guesses. Indeed. "Hello," My Sweet Baboo mildly offers. Sam unleashes the full force of his mighty bitchface upon Dean, who simply shrugs his way into the METAL TEETH CHOMP! all, "Hey, what can I say? The adorable little bastard loves me."
"'Hello'?" Sam angrily parrots once we've returned from the break. "That is still the term?" Castiel innocently wonders. Hee. Sam peeves some more about what we already know, all, "I call you thousands of times, and nothing! But Dean calls you once, and you show up? What gives? You like him better, or something?" "Dean and I do share a more profound bond," Castiel apologetically admits. Dean blinks. Several times. "I wasn't going to mention it," Castiel apologetically bumbles in Dean's direction, and with that, I'm afraid I'm going to have to veer away from a direct transcription of the scene that follows, for while most of Castiel's lines are as amusing as those mentioned above, I'm on a deadline. Long story short, and as you might have surmised, given the way no one in Heaven ever talks to each other on this show, Castiel has no idea who raised Sam from the cage, so badgering him about it is and always has been more than a little pointless. Castiel would also like us to know that while he does indeed share a more profound bond with Dean, his primary motivation for returning to earth after all these many months is the case Our Intrepid Heroes are currently working on. You see, the only thing that could have brought these variants on the Plagues Of Egypt into existence is The Staff Of Moses, which is one of many "weapons" that have gone missing since Heaven went to hell in the wake of the abortive Apocalypse. Sam breaks in at this point to note that he was under the impression that The Staff Of Moses turned entire rivers into blood, rather than liquefying individual human beings. "The weapon isn't being used at full capacity," Castiel intones. "I think we can rule Moses out as a suspect." Hee! Dean would like to know "what Chuck Heston's disco stick is doing down here, anyway," so Castiel explains the current situation Up There, noting that Heaven's lost all stability, and in the confusion that followed the abortive Apocalypse, several rogue angels swiped certain weapons and vanished with them. Fortunately, Our Intrepid Heroes have stumbled across one of them, but Castiel can't retrieve the thing without the boys' help. "That's rich," Sam snots. Castiel takes a moment to process the attitude emanating from Sam's remarkably healthy and remarkably petty form, and then My Badass Baboo gathers his considerable strength to smack the whiny bitch up like so, complete with air quotes: "My 'people skills' are 'rusty' -- pardon me, but I have spent the last 'year' as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, but believe me: You do not want that weapon down here!" He's so cute when he's angry. "Glalalaaaaaah!" Aw. Poor thing. It was a terribly exhausting fifteen minutes for him, wasn't it?