Back from the break, Psychotic Sammy's just finishing up getting dressed after a refreshing and much-needed shower. Incidentally, his normally unruly coif's been thoroughly tamed and slicked down upon his oversized head, so we know he's completely and irredeemably evil at this point. Just FYI. In any event, there's some babbling between The Ginormotron Antichrist and Princess Embolism, but none of it's important, except for the part where Psychotic Sammy's supposed to ambush Lilith's demonic dietician, or whatever, and are we done here? "We are!" Excellent. Next!

Down at Bobby's Emporium, the sir himself's on the phone with Dashing El Deano, confirming that a late-model gas-guzzling abortion bearing asinine hubcaps was "found in a ditch outside Elk River" where it belongs, so poor, weary Dean once more has miles to go before he sleeps. Or something like that. Anyway, Bobby also made a few pertinent phone calls, and passes along news that the nearby town of Cold Spring has been "lighting up with demon signs," so I guess The Apocalypse starts in Minnesota, and I smell a brand-new tourism slogan! "What a charming idea!" Raoul agrees. "Oh, and best of all?!" Do tell. "'The Apocalypse Starts Here!' fits perfectly onto license plates!" We have to make this happen. "Indeed! [Slurp!]" Unfortunately, our excellent plan will have to wait, because I have six minutes of show time left, and where the hell was I?