Sam tells Dean about his conversation with Bobby. "You're not going to like [this]. It's Ghost Sickness." Dean repeats what Sam just said and sinks back against the car. "Oh God, no." He lets it sink in, then deadpans, "I don't even know what that is." Some cultures believe the dead can infect the living with a disease. Per Sam, the symptoms of Ghost Sickness are as follows: "You get anxious; then scared; then really scared; then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?" Oh, that'll calm him down, Stretch. Dean thinks this is odd as they haven't seen a ghost in weeks, but Sam doesn't think he caught it from a ghost. "Once the spirit infects that first person, Ghost Sickness can spread like any sickness -- through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected: Patient Zero." Dean's less than thrilled. "Our very own outbreak monkey."
Sam also found out that Frank had been in Maumee over the weekend for a Soft Ball Tournament, which is where he must have infected the other victims. Dean asks if they were Game Cocks. Sam says, "Corn Jerkers." I pause the DVR because it seems my husband has regressed to the seventh grade. Are you all right over there, babe? "Rewind that." M'kay. Moving right along, Dean says, "So a ghost infected Frank; he gave it to the others; and I got it from his corpse. So what, now I've got 48 hours before I go insane," oh honey, you're well on your way there, "And my heart stops?" Sam says, "More like... 24." Dean thinks this is super fun, but he wants to know why he got infected when Sam got hit with the spleen juice. Sam looks away and then back at Dean. "Yeah, um, see Bobby and I have a theory about that, too. It turns out all three victims shared a certain personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims -- one was a Vice Principal; one was a bouncer." Dean says, "Okay," as in the point -- you can show me it? Sam says, "Basically, they were all dicks." Nice work there, Sammy. Your brother, the one who once sold his soul and went to hell for you, has a day to live and you're calling him a dick. Imitation is the highest form of flattery.
Dean says, "So you're saying I'm a dick?" See, Sam. It's not just me. Sam says, "No, no, no. It's not just that." Oh, it's not just that. So there's a lot more? Hee. Let's give Sam a little more rope. "All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favor." Dean says, "I don't scare people." Sam says, "Dean, all we do is scare people." I don't generally think that's true. All they do is scare monsters. Now, given Sammy's recent dalliances, perhaps he's putting monsters in the people category, but on the face of it, neither Sam nor Dean scare people. They save them. Dean's too distracted to argue, so he just bobs his head all over the place then says, "Okay, well then you're a dick, too." Sam says, "Apparently not," with a sly grin, and there he goes ladies and gents, attempting to swing by the neck, without a net. What a Johnson. I feel sort of bad for Barnes, because the forums are going to go wild, but this is pretty funny. Your brother has one day to live, and you tell him it's because he's a dick. My husband's brothers are like that. (Oh, you know you are, and I know you know you are.) Oh, crap. I have e-mail. That was fast. Let's see. What's this? It's not from one of my brothers-in-law at all. It's from Supernatural's publicist, via the TWoP Brass. This is not a joke. It's hysterically funny that it happened or had to, but it's not a joke.