Ooops! Sorry! I totally care about that last part, because it means we get to watch hellhounds rip Posh Bela to shreds! "VIOLENCE! WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" I know! It's so exciting, I won't even wonder why a deal made in Greenwich Time would still come due at midnight Eastern. "Except that you just did!" Oh, leave me alone. I'm trying to ignore the flashback they just barfed up onto the screen, in which we watch Posh Bela seal the original deal with a preadolescent moppet who's sporting a ludicrously false pair of red eyes. And I'm also trying to ignore the tears and the weeping that follow, in which Posh Bela explains that "They" first told her she'd be off the hellhound hook if she swiped The Fucking Colt, only to renege on the revised deal by informing her she'd have to kill Darling Sammy as well. Dean, thank God, is having none of it, and announces, "You know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help, we probably could have taken The [Fucking] Colt and saved you!" "And saved yourself, I know," she babbles, snot trickling from her leaky nose onto the telephone. Ew. You see, Posh Bela knows all about Dean's deal because the demonette who holds his and all similar contracts -- yes, including hers -- told her about it. And that demonette would be? Lilith, of course, but that won't become important until next week at the earliest, for it's time for Dean to sign off on the aggravating bint with a seething, "I'll see you in Hell."
As the line goes dead, the clock at her side rolls over to midnight, and hellhounds bay in the distance. She rises to her feet to stare through the curtains at the dingy city outside, and the camera tracks ever closer in upon her face while that howling draws near, and finally, at very long last, a harsh snarling pounces upon her to drag Posh Bela into the darkness for good. "Whee!"
Next week: Season finale, baby! Will Dashing El Deano make it through the hour intact, or will The Kripkeeper pull another goddamned cliffhanger designed simply to annoy all of us during the lengthy summer hiatus? "It's another mystery! Hooray!" See you then, kiddies. "And kisses! Kisses to my pretties! Hee!"
Demian thinks it's time you started acting your age. Raoul, however, has just invited you over for a High School Musical marathon where, he promises, there will be mud masks, pedicures, and s'mores for everyone. You may reach the former at firstname.lastname@example.org. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.