Gah! Where the hell was I? Oh, yes: As lightning flickers through the restaurant's front windows and thunder rumbles ominously overhead, Dean picks his wary way to Death's table and takes a seat opposite The Horseman just as the heavens unleash torrent after torrent of rain down upon the city. "Took you long enough to find me," Death notes, not once glancing up from his delicious-looking meal. "I've been wanting to talk to you," he admits. "I gotta say, mixed feelings about that," Dean replies, ever the smartass. "So is this the part where you kill me?" Lightning flashes across Death's harsh features as he finally lifts his eyes to meet Dean's. "You have an inflated sense of your importance," Death announces. "To a thing like me," he explains, taking a sip of his iced tea, "a thing like you, well: Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky." Uh oh. I think that Death is being MEAN TO DEAN. "Eeep!" "Eeep," indeed, my scaly friend. He'd best watch his pasty ass lest the rabid crazy fucking Deangirls forcibly relieve him of it. In any event, Dean doesn't quite know how to respond to that -- though my God, he's looking especially attractive during this scene thanks to some expert hair-, lighting-, and camerawork -- so he remains silent as Death continues, "This is one little planet, in one tiny solar system, in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean -- very old -- so I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you." I think I'm in love. "Demian!" Kidding! Just kidding, but I certainly wouldn't mind if Death popped up every now and again in future episodes to remind these dolts how insignificant they are -- it might give these weepy little girly men a little perspective on all of their distasteful chick-flick ills.

Anyway, Death passes Dean a slice and tells him to eat. As the storm rages ever louder outside, Dean hesitantly goes at his plate with a knife and a fork -- it looks like it's pepperoni with green peppers and mushrooms -- and seems surprised when he fails to keel over dead. "Good, isn't it?" Death asks. Dean silently agrees, then wonders how old Death actually is. "As old as God," Death shrugs, "maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg, regardless: At the end, I'll reap Him, too." "'Reap God'?" Dean repeats, incredulous. "Oh, yes," Death mildly replies, "God will die, too, Dean." "Well, this is way above my pay grade," Dean foolheartedly jokes. Death's all, "Yeah, just a tetch." Heh. "So, then why am I still breathing?" Dean asks, all but begging for a Death-dealt smackdown at this point. "What do you want?" "The leash around my neck off!" Death hisses with an unexpected ferocity. You see, Lucifer somehow has Death "bound to him with some unseemly little spell," and has been treating Death like an indentured servant over the last couple of months, which is why Death couldn't go to Dean directly and had to wait for Our Intrepid Hero to "catch up" to him. "He made me his weapon," Death peevishly explains. "Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead -- I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child having a tantrum!" "I understand you want this," Death states, indicating his chunky signet ring. "I'm inclined to give it to you." "What about Chicago?" Dean asks. "I suppose it can stay," Death allows, adding rather nonchalantly, "I like the pizza." There are conditions, however -- Dean must do whatever it takes to place Lucifer back in his cell, so Death exacts a promise: "You're going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit." Dean gulps. "Well?" Death prompts. "Do I have your word?" Dean hesitates, but eventually blurts, "Okay, yeah! Yes." He accepts The Horseman's proffered ring, and with that, the raging thunderstorm outside passes. "Now," Death continues, "would you like the instruction manual?" METAL TEETH CHOMP!