Back at the room, Jimmy From Pontiac slinks out of the door and into the night.

For his part, Crazy Sammy notices not a thing, as he's now focused solely on slurping the last remaining drops of Princess Embolism's demonically enhanced blood from the flask, because Crazy Sammy's Blood Addictions Are In-SANE!, and I...think I'm over this character arc, now. I wonder if there's room on Raoul's overstuffed armchair, because I suddenly feel like I need a very long nap. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! There is not! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Crap. Also: METAL TEETH CHOMP!

The next morning finds Crazy Sammy furiously shoving his gigantic darks into a duffel as Dean casually ambles from the bathroom, brushing his teeth and chuckling, which are not easy things to do simultaneously. Crazy Sammy's all, "I amuse you?" and Dean's all, "Mr. Big Bad Prison Guard, and Jimmy The Mook gives you the slip?" "Yeah, it's pretty funny," Dean smirks before wondering what, exactly, Crazy Sammy was doing out in the parking lot in the first place. "I was getting a Coke!" Crazy Sammy clenches. Dean pauses, then removes the toothbrush from his mouth. "Was it a refreshing Coke?" Hee. Crazy Sammy crazy bitchfaces, and the next thing we know, we've...

...rejoined Jimmy The Mook as he takes a very long Greyhound ride into a...

...FLASHBACK! Yep, we're back in Pontiac, where Jimmy's slicing up some peppers until the enormous antique multiband radio he's got parked on his kitchen counter starts emitting a solitary, piercing whine. Fortunately for Jimmy, he seems to have acclimated himself to this strange phenomenon over the last couple of days or weeks or months or whatever, so instead of collapsing into an epileptic seizure right there on the linoleum, he instead slowly stops chopping and crosses to lean in carefully towards the radio's speaker, where the whine gradually breaks apart into a series of mysterious susurrations, and before you know it...

...Jimmy's sunk his hand and forearm into a pot of boiling water! I won't even attempt to rouse Raoul at this point, for Jimmy is of course under Castiel's protection at the moment, and therefore the boiling water is not slowly turning his right arm into an aromatic and tantalizing stew, so what's the point? "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! What's the point indeed! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Of course, Mrs. Jimmy doesn't know this, so when she arrives from the supermarket to find her bible-thumping overlord with his arm in the pot, she immediately drops the groceries and screams, "What the HELL are you doing?" and for that transgression, I'm certain she'll be spending the next seventeen hours in the prayer closet. Eve was weak, Mrs. Jimmy! Eve was WEAK!