...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."