Well, okay, there's a little more to it than that, I suppose, with Wee Sam yelling at Stupid Sam about Stanford and whatnot, and Stupid Sam apparently still harboring massive amounts of guilt regarding Crispy Jessica's most spectacularly gruesome demise at The Ceiling Demon's hand, and then Wee Sam mocks Stupid Sam for clinging to Crispy Jessica's blessed memory as some sort of excuse for his current behavior, and at this, Stupid Sam clenches up completely to tell his younger incarnation to go blow, so Wee Sam magically whips himself around to the other end of the room, and by the time Stupid Sam's pivoted around on the cot, Wee Sam's eyes have flipped a sickly, marbled yellow. DUN! Except, you know, not, because this is a goddamned fucking hallucination, and Stupid Sam's babbling away at nothing more than himself, so again: Whatever.

Back upstairs, we finally get some actual damn plot points in the form of a sheaf of research Bobby passes to Dean. Seems Rufus risked Bobby's wrath to let him know three more seals had been shattered, those being the ten animal species that suddenly vanished from Key West, the fifteen guys on an Alaskan fishing boat who were suddenly struck blind, and the New York teacher who suddenly decided she had sixty-six students too many. "And why were we not witness to THAT?!" Raoul shrieks, understandably feeling cheated, especially given the gruesome possibilities inherent in that last scenario, and dude. Do you know how much money it would have cost them to stage such sequences of death and destruction? "Too much!?" Correct. "Rats!" Have some more flagon juice, sweetie -- it'll calm your nerves. "Thanks! [Slurp!] I will!" In any event, neither Bobby nor Dean has any idea how many seals remain, and both find themselves more than a little perturbed that Dean's angel friends are nowhere to be found, so Bobby's got an idea. "I was just wondering," he hesitates, not sure how Dean will react, so you know Dean's going to storm off in a stompy little bow-legged fit as soon as Bobby gets the next few words out of his mouth, "with The Apocalypse being nigh and all, is now really the right time to be having this little domestic drama of ours?" Dean, not getting it, spits, "Whaddya mean?" "I don't like this any more than you do," Bobby hedges, "but Sam can kill demons -- he's got a shot at stopping Armageddon." Dean, of course, is outraged, and refuses to "sacrifice" his younger brother's "life" and "soul" for "the greater good," and speaking as one of the six billion people on the planet such sacrifice would save, Dean, I'm afraid I must tell you to SHUT THE HELL UP. Ignoring me, naturally, Dean continues rhetorically, "Times are bad, so let's use Sam as a nuclear warhead?" YES, DEAN. YES EXACTLY. "I must say!" Raoul interjects. "That charming young man is being quite the selfish little human-thingy at the moment, don't you think?!" HAVE YOU NOT BEEN LISTENING TO ME RAOUL? YES! YES! A THOUSAND TIMES YES! GOD! "Hee! [Slurp!]" Oh, you horrid dragon -- you were deliberately baiting me just then, weren't you? "I was! [Slurp!]" Rrrrgh. "Wheeeee!"