Supernatural

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Demian: B- | 2 USERS: A+
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The Hardy Boys Wanna Take a Ride on Your Disco Stick

And when the chattering's over, Castiel chalks a sigil onto This Week's Motel Room's table, sets a silver bowl at the center of the symbol, slices open Dashing El Deano's palm with a hunting knife so Our Intrepidly Outraged Hero might spill a bit of his human blood into the Belthazor-tracking potion My Sweet Baboo's decided to concoct, adds myrrh and holy water to the mix, and finally Enochiates over the brew for a very lengthy period of time in his most growly -- and therefore most authoritative -- tone of voice. Smoke almost immediately rises from the bowl, and as Castiel stands over it all, meditating, a series of police and fire department sirens below herald the arrival of some certain-to-be hostile authorities. Sam hisses at My Sweet Baboo to hurry things up a little, but Castiel takes exactly the amount of time he needs, after which he announces, "Got him." "What about him?" Dean asks, hiking a thumb in the direction of the still-unconscious adolescent annoyance over on the bed. "Don't you think the police will take him home?" Castiel all but duuuuuuuhs by way of response, and the next thing we know...

...Castiel's fluttered the boys over to the nighttime lawn of a palatial estate somewhere else. Dean snarks something about Dr. No and Liberace that even Sam doesn't understand, and the three start hoofing it across the grass.

A short time later, Castiel wanders into the main hall alone as some very loud smooth jazz filters down from above. He eyes a suspicious-looking bullfrog that's improbably managed to perch itself on a stairwell banister high above the floor, then flutters himself up to the landing to track down the source of that very loud smooth jazz. Castiel quickly finds himself in an apparently empty and disco-lit ballroom, but when the doors swing shut and lock behind him seemingly of their own accord, he lets his Angel-Smiting Scimitar drop into his hand from its hiding place in his trench coat's sleeve. Soon enough, Belthazor materializes behind him. As mentioned before, Belthazor's being played by Sebastian Roché, an actor who seems to have cornered the American television market as far as sleazy, pasty-faced, middle-aged, booze-swilling Eurotrash go, so it should come as no surprise to you, gentle reader, to learn that Belthazor's a sleazy, pasty-faced, middle-aged, booze-swilling Eurotrash type with -- it almost goes without saying -- an absolutely tragic patch of douchetastic facial scruff growing around his mouth. My Sweet Baboo greets the walking, talking slime pit that's just joined him in the ballroom, and Belthazor admits he's been expecting Castiel, as that dark-suited Heavenly traitor from a scene or two ago managed to beat everyone's favorite angel to Belthazor's estate. At that, Belthazor snaps his fingers, shutting off the smooth jazz while bringing up the ballroom's house lights, and we can now see the earlier dark-suited Heavenly traitor lying in a crumpled heap on the far side of the ballroom floor. And in a gross little effect, the apparently dead traitor's throat pulsates as yet another bullfrog wriggles its way up from the apparently dead traitor's esophagus to peek out of the angelic corpse's mouth. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Aw. It's like they wrote this episode especially for you, Raoul. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

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Supernatural

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