Supernatural

Episode Report Card
Demian: A- | 8 USERS: A
YOU GRADE IT
Let's Go LARPing With The Hardy Boys!
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Rattle, Rattle THEN! Once upon a time, Darling Sammy shot Dashing El Deano in the chest with a round of rock salt and proceeded to rant as follows: "Why are we even here? 'Cause you're following [our worthless bastard of a so-called father's] orders like a good little soldier? Are you that desperate for his approval?" Devious El Deano, ever the stumpy little bow-legged passive-aggressive midget, squirreled this base transgression of his brother's away and patiently bided his time until, more than a year later, he finally exacted his revenge at the shore of a ridiculously scenic lake by placing a carefully considered expression of agony on his pretty, pretty face and claiming, "Before he died, [Sucky John] told me something -- he said I might have to kill you, Sammy!" Darling Sammy's wildly unruly mop of Season-Two hair twisted itself into a variety of amusing animal shapes at that bit of news, but that's not really important at the moment, because what is important at the moment is the fact that My Sweet Baboo at some much-later date informed Dashing El Deano that The Fucking Colt That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't represented their best hope for killing Lucifer, so we've got to put up with that crap again, some more, this season. And then some fat guy accused Our Intrepid Heroes of LARPing, and it was absolutely disgusting, but it did lead Our Intrepid Heroes to The Prophet Chuck, so it wasn't all bad. Well, until it also led Our Intrepid Heroes to Becky The Wincesting Fangirl, who marveled at Darling Sammy's remarkably broad chest as any human being with a pulse would properly do, regardless of the quality of that human being's grasp on reality, which in Becky's case was very weak, indeed. And then, your faithful recapper got to tell that aggravating Becky person to shut the hell up, for it was time for the...

...Rattle, Rattle NOW! Metallicar roars into the frame to obliterate the hapless NOW! as Our Intrepid Heroes hasten their tantalizing asses to "The Pineview Hotel," which is a -- wait for it -- ridiculously scenic inn nestled amongst ridiculously scenic trees on a ridiculously scenic hillside. They wheel the Impala into the hotel's parking lot and hastily disembark to find...three other mint-condition black 1967 Chevrolet Impalas parked beside them? Buh? Alas, they have no time at the present to investigate this mysterious exaltation of Metallicars, for they must charge to the hotel's front porch, where they find The Prophet Chuck pacing angstily amid the potted plants. "There you are!" Darling Sammy calls out as the boys jog up to The Prophet's side. "What's going on?" Demanding El Deano grunts. "Uh...nothing?" The Prophet hesitantly offers, before wondering out loud what the hell Our Dear Boys are doing there. "You told us to come!" Dean exclaims. Chuck's all, "Um, what?" so Sam prompts, "You texted me? This address? 'Life or death situation'? Any of this ringing a bell?" The Prophet protests he texted Sam no such thing, and the conversation's about to become heated when Chuck suddenly arrives at a realization. "Oh, no!" he groans. "What?" Dean bites. "SAM?!?!!!!!!11!!1!?" Becky The Wincesting Fangirl screams. "YOU MADE IT!!11!!!<3<3<3!!!:pantypoof:!!!!!1!:swoon:!!!" Yes, the various punctuation marks and emoticons were included in all of that. Shut up.

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Supernatural

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