...something we've never seen before. Images of Doctor Eleanor slumped against a set of shipping pallets zip past until the flashback settles on Bobby, Dean, and Sam marching themselves down an alleyway for a prearranged assignation with the good doctor. Not seeing her, Bobby dials her cell, which they hear ringing off to one side in a remote corner of the alleyway. The boys plus Bobby hustle on over and find the grievously injured Ellie slumped against a set of shipping pallets, sporting a foot-wide gash through her torso. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" "They got me," she wryly admits, gamely trying to joke about it all despite the fact her intestines are now spilling through that tasteful silk blouse of hers. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" "The demon, I could've handled," she notes, "but when the angel stepped in...." DUN! She sadly admits she cracked under the torture and told Castiel and Crowley how to open a portal into Purgatory, so they swiped about a gallon of her blood and left her to die in that alleyway. You see, the ritual requires the blood of a Purgatorial beastie, the blood of a virgin, and a lunar eclipse for everything to work. Acquiring the virgin's blood should be "a milk run for them," as the good doctor wheezes, and as tomorrow evening features a lunar eclipse, Castiel and Crowley should have sucked out all of the available souls within thirty-six hours or so. Unfortunately, the good doctor drops dead long before she gets a chance to reveal Crowley's location. Fortunately, My Devious Baboo flutters in at this moment to apologize for his unorthodox methods as of late. Bobby and Dean attempt to get screamy, but Castiel blows them off, basically telling them he's no longer interested in what they think of him. "Please go home and let me stop Raphael," he pleads. Dean tells his ex-boyfriend to cram it sideways, so Castiel reaches up -- way, way up -- and taps The Ginormotron on the side of the head, hurling him back into...

...The Nite Owl, where Somewhat Less Amnesiac Sam comes to on his hands and knees atop the grimy carpet, all wild-eyed and breathless. The barmaid -- who still hasn't been given a proper name, by the by -- kneels at his side and asks repeatedly if he's okay. "Sam!" Mildly Amnesiac Sam realizes. "My name is Sam!" We know. Could you keep this moving, please? Jesus.