Family Remains
Updated 2009-01-16 09:09:57
Yet again -- most especially now, given my lengthy medical-related absence from these recaps this season, and considering the absolutely stellar job she did covering for me while I was gone -- before we begin, it would be most remiss of me not to allow Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon to make the following announcement. "Thanks! [A- him! ] Cindy McL. Is Pretty Darn Swell! Hee! See what I did there?!" You suck, Raoul. "Hey!"
Rattle, Rattle BLOOD-RED THEN! Way back in late September, my sweet baboo Castiel, The Angel Of Thursday, entered Dashing El Deano's life for the very first time in a shower of sparks and deep blue eyes and angrily feathery hair and generalized overwhelming awesomeness and why has he not responded to my marriage proposal yet to inform Our Intrepid Hero that my sweet baboo himself was indeed the supernatural entity who gripped Permanently Branded El Deano tight and raised him from Perdition. Then, I broke my right shoulder in at least three places by tripping up a flight of four -- count 'em: four -- steps, and through my subsequent Vicodin haze, I thought I saw Lilith busting Dean's balls in a typically crappy motel room whilst Dean clutched futilely at a Gideon's with which he attempted to ward her off, but I'm pretty sure that was just a disturbing drug-induced hallucination, mainly because I don't want to have to knock Raoul off the goddamned ceiling with a goddamned broom again. "Thanks!" Never a problem, friend of friends. And after that? The Angst . Yep, a chance encounter a couple of episodes ago with a demon whose name I've already long forgotten hurled Dreary El Deano into an Impala-side recitation of the many, many sins he committed during his lengthy sojourn down in Hell, and not to spoil you for later events or anything, but he pretty much repeats the same goddamned teary-eyed confession at the end of tonight's installment, so I'm going to skip right past these clips in the THEN! in favor of ordering you all to shut up for the...
... Slashy, Slashy NOW! ? Wow, I really haven't been paying attention to this stuff lately, have I? When did the NOW! get the slashy sound effects? Whatever. I'll worry about that later, 'cause we've got some inbred old coots to kill. "Demian!" shrieks Raoul, an appalled yet perfectly manicured paw pressed against his throat in shock and indignation. Um, what? " Spoiler , you silly little man!" Oh, hush up, you dizzy lizard. Everyone knows that characters popping up for the first time in the teaser will be dead by the title card, so what's with your shrieking? "Oh, I do apologize, I'm sure! It seems I myself have forgotten more than a few of the time-tested and gemlike details of this charming Thursday-evening divertissement myself!" Apology accepted. "Thanks!" Now, may I continue? "By all means!" Excellent.
So, the Slashy, Slashy NOW! vanishes forward into the black, replaced for the briefest of moments by the sight of a dimly lit nighttime farmhouse façade in the far background of the shot. That façade itself is replaced by a cross-fade to an apparent oil rendition of the same farmhouse hanging on one of the interior walls -- geddit? The house within the house? -- before the camera pans down past several framed photographs of the home's apparent inhabitants, which rest on a sideboard or mantel in the home's living room. The camera continues past a TV tray just as the soon-to-be-dead inbred old coot in question tosses his fork onto the remains of his dinner and reaches for his beer. All the while, some old newsreel on Turner Classic Movies blares away in the background, but that's not important, because no sooner has the coot raised the business end of the beer bottle to his lips than all the electric appliances in the house start buzzing and blinking and flickering on and off. Ooops. "Come on," the coot grumbles, tugging at the cord on the nearby floor lamp a couple of times before muttering, "Crap!" and hoisting himself to his feet to investigate. He stumbles around in the near-blackness for a bit until he hits the living room's door, which the coot is most displeased to find locked. He yanks and jiggles and twists and swears at the handle for a very lengthy period of time until another door -- closet? Additional exit? It's far too dark to tell, but we'll assume it's a closet -- creaks open slowly behind him. The aggravated coot spins around to find...a shuffling, ashen-faced, zombielike apparition emerging from the darkness! DUN! " You? " spits the coot in utter disbelief the instant he catches sight of the heavily disheveled woman's dully gleaming eyes. "It's impossible! " he insists before refocusing his attention on the locked doorknob in his hand. "You stay away from me!" he shouts, now wrestling somewhat frantically with the handle. " STAY AWAY FROM ME! " he screams when the door refuses to budge, and all the while, the zombielike thing from the closet continues to drag itself across the carpeting, a small, insane smile spreading across her jagged, gnarled teeth, until before you know it..." GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE! " For yes, gentle reader, The Thing has attacked, and a heavy gout of the good stuff splatters in most delicious and ironic a fashion across the "Home Sweet Home" sampler the coot'd tacked up on the wall. And as the old coot's already gargled screams get choked off by more of his own blood and bile, another heavy blast of arterial spray shoots across the wall, straight into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Flutter, Flutter RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" shrieks Raoul, though not, judging from his tone, with his usual amounts of delight. "You have interpreted my tone correctly!" What gives, my scaly friend? Has the RAAAWWWR! at long last lost its charm for you? "Absolutely not!" Well, what, then? "It's those...those wings! " Oh, dear. Dare I ask? "You should! Now, as I've always said in the past, the only good Canadian goose is a dead Canadian goose...." I don't recall you saying that in the past. "Quiet! [Ahem!] As I've always said in the past, the only good Canadian goose is a dead Canadian goose...." Raoul, you have never, ever said that in the past, and we all know where you're going with this, and we all agree with you, I'm sure, but may I please continue? "Oh, poop! " Raoul pouts, two perfectly formed smoke rings huffing from his nostrils. "You never allow me so much as a moment for my political commentary! " Dude, what's political about an airplane shredding a flock of Canadian.... " NEVER! " Oh, Jesus.
Now, where the hell was I? Oh, yes: An artfully lit shot of the nighttime Impala emerges from the generalized gloom left by the title card's wake, and soon enough, the camera approaches close enough to the parked car to reveal Dashing El Deano burning a little of the midnight oil behind the wheel. As he intently pores over whatever reading material he's got clutched in his hands in the low beam of his flashlight, Darling Sammy stirs from his slumber in the back seat, sniffs around for a second, and gripes, "For fuck's sake, Dean, when the hell are you going to hose all the angel juice off the goddamned upholstery? It's been a month and a half already!" Or maybe Sam says nothing of the sort, and instead blinks himself awake to groan, "What're you doing?" Dean's looking for a job, of course, despite the fact that, as Sam notes, they "just finished a job two hours ago," and on top of that, Dean's had them "chasing cases nonstop for, like, a month now," and The Crankypants Antichrist would like to get some goddamned rest already, thank you very much. Dean, single-minded and therefore oblivious, simply wonders if Sam would like next to haul cookies to "Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town," and he pronounces the latter with a hard "ch" sound, and between that and his earlier assertion that he told a demon to "stick it where the sun shines," I'm starting to think Dean's a complete fucking moron. "'Starting'?!" shrieks Raoul, and...point to the impressively fanged recapping companion, I suppose. "Thanks!" In any event, Sam claims that Dean's been "running on fumes" for quite some time, and goes on to stress -- correctly, I should add -- "You can't run forever." "And what am I running from?" Dean snottily snaps back. Sam rolls his eyes and heaves a poor little dejected sigh before gently reminding his brother, "From what you told me, or are we pretending that never happened?" And Sam, honey, you know I love you and your enormous self to bits, but if Dean spilled his guts to you about spilling other people's guts in Hell nearly two months ago, and if this is the first time since then either of you have bothered to address it in conversation, then I'm guessing the answer to your question is "yes." Yes, you are pretending that never happened, so just shut up and ride shotgun like a good little Ginormotron over to Stratton, Nebraska, which is where the inbred old coot from the pre-credits sequence bit it, okay? "Okay!" I wasn't talking to you, Raoul. "Ooops! Hee!" I swear to God...
And look at that! Sam's apparently listened to me for once in his extremely unnatural life, for almost as soon as he's flopped back down into the depressing and still-lingering stench left over from Dirty El Deano's ludicrous Titanic reenactment , the shot cuts to Our Intrepid Heroes in their proper places as the Impala grumbles up to the now-daylit farmhouse exterior in question. Dean promptly keys off the engine, and the boys disembark to hike up the stairs to the front porch. After the expected amounts of expert lock-picking, they ease themselves through the front door into the deep shadows of the foyer for a moment before ambling on through the first floor. Dean pauses to lob a couple of smart remarks regarding the ongoing mortgage crisis -- or not -- before they continue on...tracked all the while by That Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence! DUN! Yep, The Thing's apparently lingering in the closet or painted herself to blend into the wallpaper like she's Wednesday Addams or whatever, and we're treated to a brief Thing-POV of the boys exiting the main parlor before we join Our Intrepid Heroes back in the farmhouse kitchen, and ooops! My bad. The Thing's evidently hidden herself inside the actual walls of the place, because she's still spying on Sam and Dean as the latter two root through the abandoned and empty kitchen cabinets. Dean eventually stumbles across a section of wall that's been hastily replastered; Sam guesses the old coot covered over a "dumbwaiter," and in actual fact, Sam, the only thing dumb about this scene is that guess of yours. A dumbwaiter? In a Nebraska farmhouse ? Really , College Boy? If you'd have guessed "old laundry chute," I'd be fine with it, but then again, had you guessed "old laundry chute," the audience would have been deprived of the supposedly humorous moment immediately following, wherein Dim Dean accuses you of being a "know-it-all," because Dim Dean -- despite all appearances to the contrary -- is "street smart," you see, and you're just full up with that newfangled, Commie-pinko book-larnin', so I guess your guess wasn't the only dumb thing about this scene, now was it? Shut up, Supernatural .
Gah. ANY-way, where the hell was I? A-ha: The boys continue wandering through the supposedly deserted place, and Darling Sammy's briefly enthused over his trusty EMF reader's encouraging VWEEE- YORP s until Dean pisses all over Darling Sammy's parade by pointing out the nearby overhead power lines. They wander over to a closet to tangle their feet up in a red herring, but that's not important right now, because what is important right now is that Our Intrepid Heroes must deal with the family full of Monster Chow that's arriving below with a moving van. "Uh-oh," Sam gulps, for he'd been under the mistaken impression the house was still on the market. Sorry! Better research next time, boys!
"Oh, honey, isn't it just perfect? " I'm sure the mother coos to the father as the adolescent special-needs son gambols happily in the yard with the family dog, and the teenaged daughter gripes about cell phone reception while the probably-gay uncle agrees with his sassy niece that living in the middle of nowhere sucks (and not in the good way), and if that lineup of characters sounds like a hot scrambled mess of pop-culture clichés to you, you're right, and if you think I made any of it up, you are so very, very, very wrong, and this episode just got about three thousand hours longer than it actually is. They even named the fucking dog "Buster," for Christ's sake. I must note, however, that the mother is being played by noted 1980s lesbian icon and infamous Supergirl portrayer Helen Slater, and...that's all I really have to say about that, as it turns out. Well, you know, aside from the fact that I now feel really old. "Only just now?!" Raoul shrieks, and this I know I have always said in the past: Watch that goddamned forked tongue of yours, houseguest . "Hee!"
In any event, the LYING LIARS WHO LIE descend from the front porch at this moment and, after presenting themselves to the hapless passel of Monster Chow arrayed on the lawn as Messrs. Stanwyck and Babar of the county's health department, proceed to LIE to the father that, due to the possibility of ongoing asbestos issues, the family will not be allowed to move in until after Messrs. Stanwyck and Babar's still-pending investigation is complete. The father -- who'd secured a thorough inspection of the property no more than a week ago -- flails about for a bit at this news until Authoritarian El Deano firmly points the gentleman in the direction of the local hostelry. For whatever reason, the father caves, and as the family dejectedly crawls back into their various vehicles, the teenaged daughter sarcastically snaps, " Another motel? Awesome , Dad -- I hope this one has hooker sheets like the last one!" Dean goggles a bit at all of the sassiness on display, or maybe he's goggling at the idea of a motel offering its guests nothing but hooker sheets to sleep on like none of us have ever seen the places these guys have stayed in their entire freaking lives, or whatever , Supernatural , and you can knock it off with the so-called "comedic" tootling on the electric organ that's been underscoring this scene ANY TIME NOW, and can we move to the next scene already? Please? "Yes, let's!" Oh, Raoul. Even after all this time, you've still got my back. "Of course!" And this is why I can never stay angry with you for very long. " Stop being such a sap and get on with it already, or we're never going to make it to the rat! " As you wish, my scaly friend.
So, once the Monster Chow have been sent on their merry way, the LYING LIARS WHO LIE pull a quick-change and hustle on over to the tastefully appointed double-wide that contains the old coot's longtime housekeeper, and in a bit of singularly awesome casting, the housekeeper's played by the extremity-challenged mother from the infamous X-Files episode from which this evening's entertainment takes its inspiration. Oh, clever, clever show. In any event, posing once more as FBI agents, Our Intrepid Heroes quiz the housekeeper about the murder scene. "I already told the local boys," Mother Peacock replies. "It was blood, everywhere." "And Mr. Gibson?" Dean prompts. "Where was he?" Mother Peacock takes a significant moment to choose her words correctly, then carefully repeats, "Everywhere." Heh. "And why were we not witness to that?! " Raoul shrieks, feeling somewhat predictably cheated. "Oh, you trying little man!" Raoul howls, suddenly turning upon your faithful recapper. " Must I remind you that we are nearly a full fourth of the way through this tiresome tale, and we have had but one jet of delicious arterial spray to last us the entire previous ten minutes!? Where are the wanton acts of unrepentant violence?!" Well, see, I think they're going for something a little more atmospheric this week, and -- " Silence! Where is the GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!? " Raoul! " WHAT?! " Now just calm down. We wouldn't want a repeat of the last time you got so overexcited, now would we? "Oh, I do apologize!" Raoul shrieks, blushing deeply and immediately at the unfortunate memory. "Please, let us speak no more of it!" I won't if you won't, pal. "Agreed! Now, do continue with your charming little story!" I never would have stopped if you hadn't started shrieking, you dizzy lizard, but okay.
"How long have you been cleaning Mr. Gibson's house?" Sam asks, and I should note that Mother Peacock apparently refused to let the LYING LIARS WHO LIE into her double-wide, so this entire conversation's being held through her screen door, and the resulting through-the-screen shots of the trio's questions and responses are doing very pretty things indeed to all of the faces involved. I should also note that the screening of Mother Peacock's face probably means something symbolic or important or symbolically important, but as we never find out later that she, say, knew all along that there were twin inbred mutant freaks locked in the farmhouse basement -- ooops! SPOILER! -- I'll ignore all of that in favor of keeping this already-overlong recap going, okay? "Okay!" In any event, Mother Peacock's response to Sam's question is, "About five years," and while you might think that'd indicate she had more than a passing familiarity with the victim, you'd be wrong. "He was real private," Mother Peacock allows. "Not the easiest man," she continues, before hastening to add, "not that I blame him." Darling Sammy goes, "Buh?" so Mother Peacock elaborates: "His wife dies in childbirth, daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later? I'd be bitter, too." The three let those bits of information hang in the air for a few lengthy Do You Get It, Audience Of Ours? No, Seriously, Do You Get It? Because We Have About Six Minutes' Worth Of Pretty, Pretty Reaction Shots That'd Otherwise End Up On The Cutting Room Floor, And We Can Stick All Of Them In Here In Case You Haven't Gotten It Yet seconds until Mother Peacock vanishes deep inside her double-wide to retrieve a couple of photos of the late women in the late Mr. Gibson's life. After she passes those pictures to Dean through the door, we learn that, while Mother Peacock occasionally heard rustling noises emanating from the farmhouse walls, she simply assumed there was a rat infestation, and thought nothing more of it. Also -- and disappointingly enough for Our Intrepid Heroes, who thought they were dealing with a simple pissed-off ghost or two, here, just in case you didn't get it before -- Mother Peacock ends the interview by revealing both Mrs. and Daughter Gibson were cremated after their untimely demises. D'OH! Sam and Dean head back to the car determined to rip the farmhouse apart if necessary in order to find (and then salt and burn) the human remains they're still certain represent the source of their murderous ghost.
One problem: The Monster Chow, egged on by the mouthy and probably-gay uncle, have already returned to the farmhouse to start hauling in their stuff. D'OH! Again! Probably-Gay Uncle, you see, has experience with asbestos, because he's a probably-gay builder. "Saucy!" titters Raoul, who I'm sure is simply indulging in a fond memories of dalliances past and not trying to porn up the episode , right, Raoul? "Hee! You may proceed under that assumption, I'm sure!" Pervert. ANY-way, Probably-Gay Uncle went through the place -- except, presumably, the goddamned motherfucking BASEMENT -- and found no obvious carcinogens, so let's get these boxes in there, okay? Another problem: Just as Sassy Daughter's about to tote a couple of bursting Jansports up to the porch, she spots...The Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence peering down at her from the second-story window! DUN! Sassy Daughter -- whose complexion is being done approximately zero favors by high-definition television, in case you were wondering -- gasps and wheezes and whatnot before convincing herself she must be mistaken, and she and The Legend Of Billie Jean proceed with the move-in.
Later that evening, the special-needs son is up in his room, furiously fingering a PSP while his closet door slowly creaks open. "Hee!" titters Raoul. Wait. What? "Hee!" Raoul simply titters again, directing an elegant and perfectly honed claw at the last sentence I typed, and Jesus, Raoul, not like that! I mean the actual, physical door to the closet in his bedro...you know what? Screw it. "That's what he said!" KNOCK IT OFF, RAOUL. SO. The door creaks open, and the still-unseen Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence rolls a filthy baseball across the floorboards to Special Needs over there on the carpet, and because Special Needs is one of those Idiot Children On The Television, he does not immediately run screaming from the room to shout dire warnings at his relatives like a normal person. Nope, Special Needs Son instead -- get this -- decides a spur-of-the-moment game of catch with The Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence is in order , and proceeds to toss the goddamned ball back and forth with the freak , and as this fucking LOSER is clearly too STUPID to LIVE, let's skip ahead to the next scene.
And as this goddamned scene involves The Legend Of Billie Jean and her husband blathering endlessly about (I kid you not) soil acidity levels and zucchini -- of all the fucking useless things to have a conversation about when the twin inbred mutant freaks locked in the basement are about to burst out and slaughter you all -- and as they also drop ominous and poignant hints regarding Some Unnamed Family Tragedy I Could Not Possibly Care Less About Because For One Thing, Who The Hell Are These People, Anyway, And Why Should I Be Giving A Shit About Their Stupid Problems? And For Another, Did I Mention The Twin Inbred Mutant Freaks Locked In The Basement , For Christ's Sake?, I should probably get all of these nitwits' actual names out of the way: The Legend Of Billie Jean is "Susan Carter," Husband is "Brian," Probably-Gay Uncle is "Ted" (her brother, I think, though I've seen him credited as "Ted Carter" in various Internet places, so who the hell knows?), and Sassy Daughter and Special Needs Son are "Kate" and "Danny," respectively. Now you know. Not that it matters, because we're never going to see any of these boring dipshits again as long as we live, but there you go. You know, just in case you end up in some Pub Trivia contest and the topic just happens to be "Secondary Single-Episode Characters On Low-Rated Supernatural Dramas Named 'Supernatural' On The CW." It could happen.
Meanwhile, Metallicar grumbles up outside. "Crap!" Dean seethes once he realizes the Monster Chow is now in residence. "So, what now?" "We could tell them the truth," Sam shrugs. "Really?" Dean eyebrows, surprised. "No, not really," Sam duhs, and they flounder around in search of a Plan B. Heh.
Living room, and long story short, Probably-Gay Uncle finds "GO" scrawled in gigantic red-crayon lettering upon the wall, and as I find myself agreeing with the sentiment as far as these people are concerned, let's skip to the end: Probably-Gay Uncle and The Legend Of Billie Jean both believe Special Needs is responsible because, well, duh, and Husband agrees to go easy on the kid because Special Needs is prone to "acting out" -- which again: Duh -- but Special Needs denies responsibility and correctly pins blame for the wallpaper-marring scrawl on The Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence, because the latter told him during their stupid game of catch that Special Needs can stay in the house, but all of his asshole relatives need to clear out, pronto. Or something like that. Next!
Up in The Sassy Boudoir, Sassy Daughter lies sprawled across her bed, where she proceeds to reenact that hoary old "Humans Can Lick Too" urban legend with The Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence. When the actual dog clicks its entirely innocent doggie toenails into the bedroom from the hall, Sassy Daughter bolts upright in bed, turns her head just in time to catch her closet door slowly creaking shut, and emits a scream-queen howl that echoes all the way into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Screamy aftermath. The Monster Chow conveniently assembles in one place on the main floor for Sassy Daughter's near-ultrasonic recounting of the events just passed, and it's a good thing Our Intrepid Heroes burst through the front door at this juncture, because I'm about to reach through the television screen and slap all of these assholes straight into the next administration. Oh, wait. Getting slapped straight into the next administration is a good thing, isn't it? "It is indeed!" Well, then. Never mind. Long story short, Sam and Dean level with everyone present just as the dog escapes all of this brutal nonsense to linger on the porch, and no sooner has all of that happened when the lights go out. Uh-oh. In very short order, the dog's strangled yelps draw everyone out onto the front lawn, where they follow a trail of... " GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE! " shrieks Raoul, clapping his easily excited paws together with delight now that we've finally got some of the damn stuff more than a third of the way through this neverending episode, and I was gonna go with "a trail of blood, fur, and dog intestines," but Raoul's version will do just as well. "Don't mention it!" Don't worry. The trail of gore leads to the side of the Monster Chow's moving van, upon which has been scrawled -- in canine remains, I should note -- "too LAte," and as several have mentioned on the forum boards, it at best strains credibility to believe that twin inbred mutant freaks locked in a basement their entire lives would be able to differentiate among "too," "to," and "two," and to that I'll add that I doubt they also had the opportunity to learn both capital and lowercase letters, and we'll leave it at that because, after all, The Kripkeeper did have the balls to off this stupid family's stupid pet, which is something that never, ever happens on network television. Let's hope he retains those cojones and slaughters the stupid kids as well. "But...!" Don't! Don't even think about reminding me that I already know the ending! The only thing keeping me going at this point is the hope -- however misguided -- that each and every one of these MORONS dies long before this episode is OVER! "Well! In all honesty, I never!" And you never will if you don't ZIP IT, Raoul!
Now, where was I? Oh, yes: Sam and Dean convince Husband to evacuate all remaining Monster Chow from the premises immediately, but as they spin around to hop into the various vehicles littering the grass, they discover three sets of slashed tires, along with a bottomless Metallicar trunk that's been completely emptied of its many, many implements of mass destruction. "NO ONE FUCKS WITH MY CAR!" Dean basically screams, and he's not wrong, so we know it won't be long before Our Intrepid Heroes rid themselves of The Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence with extreme prejudice. Now we just have to wait another goddamned half an hour for them to finally get around to it. In any event, after briefly spotting The Soon-To-Be-Dead-But-Not-Soon-Enough Thing From The Pre-Credits Sequence in the surrounding foliage, Dean orders everyone back inside, where he lays down a circle of salt for reasons that should be obvious to anyone who's been watching this show for longer than a week. Unfortunately, the assembled Monster Chow remains collectively skeptical, and Probably-Gay Uncle expresses this skepticism best when he shouts, "Look, I don't care who hung themselves where -- something is going on here, but it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch and I'm not about sit around here waiting for her to go all Deliverance on my ass!" And you know what? He's totally, completely, absolutely, one-hundred-percent right: It is some backwoods hillbilly bitch -- and her backwoods hillbilly bitch of a brother -- so now, upon rewatching it all, nothing that occurs between this point and the supposedly big reveal matters. Oy. Though, you know, now that Probably-Gay Uncle's put the entire situation in those terms, I think I'll be referring to the twin inbred mutant freaks who have been locked in a basement their entire lives as "Bristol" and "Levi," partly because I never got a chance to comment on the entire vile Palin clan back when it actually mattered, but mainly because I am a petty and unforgiving bitch. "Atta girl!" Bless you, friend of friends.
So, where does that leave us? Waiting for Dashing El Deano and Darling Sammy to realize they're dealing with inbred mutant freaks, I suppose, which eventually happens when Bristol lurches out of the cubbyhole she's been locked in most of her sad, pathetic life to shove those goddamned sexy librarian glasses straight down her evil pageant bimbo of a mother's throat. Ooops. Actually, Show Bristol just lurches out of her cubbyhole and keeps lurching until she's shuffled through the line of salt, thereby proving to Our Intrepid Heroes (well, proving to Dean, as Sammy fucked off God knows where God knows when for whatever Godawful stupid reason) that she is not, in fact, a ghost. Which takes Bristol, like, three whole minutes of airtime to do, so aren't you glad we skipped ahead? In any event, once Bristol's crossed the line, Dean shoos the remaining Monster Chow out the front door again while he goes mano-a-whatever the Italian phrase is for "inbred clawlike appendage" with Bristol, who's produced a nasty-looking butcher's knife from the folds of her dress, and...no. Not "no" as in "No, I cannot believe an inbred mutant freak somehow has access to advanced kitchen utensils," but "no" as in, "No, I won't wonder where she got her dress after having been locked in the basement her entire life with her inbred mutant twin, Levi, because I've still got nearly twenty minutes of show to get through." That "no." Sigh . In any event, Dean fends her off with a fireplace poker as best he can until Darling Sammy returns from wherever the hell he'd been and shines a flashlight in Bristol's eyes. Bristol -- photophobic from all those years spent locked in the basement, don't you know -- immediately recoils from the flashlight's beam and, shrieking and hooting like the inbred banshee she is, retreats back into her magical cupboard.
Moments later, Our Intrepid Heroes tumble down the front steps, and after ordering the just-appearing Husband to gather the remaining Monster Chow in front of the house -- again, some more -- Dean and Sam puzzle through recent events. "So, it's just a girl? " Sam gapes, appalled. "It's not just a girl," Dean asserts while managing to shoehorn in the requisite pop-culture reference at the same time: "It's psycho Nell!" Actually, I think maybe he got two pop-culture references in there. Three , in fact, if you count the first as a reference-wrapped-in-a-reference. Sly, Dean . Very sly. "Who is she, then?" Sam wonders. "I don't know," Dean exasperates. "Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn't hang herself!" "Dude, no," Sam shakes his head. "She'd have to be, like, fifty years old by now." I transcribe this bit of dialogue only because there was quite a bit of confusion regarding Bristol and Levi's ages after this episode aired. The actress playing Bristol -- we never get a good look at Levi -- appears to be in her early twenties at the oldest, but this exchange, combined with the information provided by Mother Peacock earlier, would indicate the twin inbred mutant freaks are pushing thirty. Again, though: Store it away for that fantasy Pub Trivia category of yours, or whatever, because it doesn't really affect the episode's events.
Anyway, turns out Sam actually disappeared upstairs to investigate the attic, and while he did find Suicide Rebecca's diary, he hasn't had time to read it, so we know all of the answers to tonight's conundrums are to be found within its pages. Ugh. On top of that , when the Monster Chow reassembles, Special Needs is missing. DUZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! The boys hustle the womenfolk into the nearby toolshed -- 'cause it's got only one point of entry, and is therefore the safest place on the farm at the moment, like, how stupid is everybody in this episode? "Fairly dimwitted, I must say!" Thanks for the vote of confidence in my opinion, Raoul, but I'm in the middle of a parenthetical thought, here, and it's really not the best place to get caught up in an exchange with you. "Oh, I do apologize, I'm sure! Please exit these em dashes at your earliest convenience! Posthaste, even!" Thanks. "Don't mention it!" -- before each grabbing a remaining bit of Monster Chow to search the premises for the aggravating adolescent.
By the way, while Raoul was shrieking at me, I gradually realized the preceding sequence of events had actually been split in half by a bored-sounding METAL TEETH CHOMP! You'll forgive me if I neglect to amend the paragraph above accordingly.
So, Sam peels off with Husband to scour the grounds while Dean heads back indoors with Probably-Gay Uncle to figure out Bristol's mysterious entrances and exits, and long story short, they quickly find a loose bit of paneling in the closet that leads to a veritable warren of just-barely-passable between-the-walls crawlspaces, and has no one on this show ever heard of insulation, for Christ's sake? Whatever. It's basically a repeat of the crawlspace sequences from "No Exit" , only with far lower lighting levels, and as I feel like I more than adequately covered those sequences back in 2006, and as pretty much all I'm getting on the TV screen at the moment is a reflection of me and Raoul staring into the goddamn thing because this sequence is so frigging dark , let's cut to the chase: Dean finds a way down into Bristol's basement abattoir and stupidly -- oh, so very, very stupidly -- leaves Probably-Gay Uncle all by his lonesome in the walls on the first floor so Bristol can swoop down from above to shove her butcher's knife all the way through Probably-Gay Uncle's throat. " GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE! " Really, Raoul. I hardly think that sequence worthy of your impressive vocal efforts. "To the contrary!" Raoul shrieks by way of reply. "Any and all instances of GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE! should be met with the most enthusiastic response possible, so that charming little Kripkeeper person will keep many such instances coming in the future!" I see your logic, and it's terrifying me. "Thanks!"
Meanwhile, out in the shed of tools, Darling Sammy tries to keep the remaining Monster Chow calm until Dean arrives with the sad news that Probably-Gay Uncle didn't make it. The remaining Monster Chow's reactions to this are either oddly subdued for some strange reason or simply indicative of the fact that the cast was as hideously bored with the material by this point in the production as we in the audience are with the episode by this point in the evening. "[ YAAAAAAAAAAAWN! ]" That was positively jaw-cracking, Raoul. I'm impressed. "Thanks!"
Later, Sam dutifully pages through Suicide Rebecca's diary while The Legend Of Billie Jean emotes in the corner for the benefit of Husband and absolutely nobody else. Poor Helen Slater. Too bad she didn't get picked for a better episode, because I actually like her a lot. Oh, and for what it's worth, they also reference That Unnamed Family Tragedy I Could Not Possibly Care Less About Because Etc., Etc., Shut Up, Boring People I Will Never See Again.
And then, sometime even later than that , Dean and Husband engage in a touching heart-to-heart at the foot of the porch steps regarding That Unnamed Family Tragedy I Could Not Possibly Care Less About Because Etc., Etc., And Did I Not Just Tell You Assholes To Shut Up About It Already? Are You Deaf On Top Of The Stupid? Sigh. Well, for what it's worth, here's another pointless plot point to add to your Pub Trivia collection: Their older son, Andy, died in a car accident. "[ YAAAAAAAAAAAWN! ]" You better be careful, dude. You're coming close to dislocating your jaw, there. "Don't worry about me! I'm double-jointed!" Wait. You're double-jointed in your...never mind. So did not need to know about that.
So, where the hell was I? Oh, yeah: Sam finally emerges from The Shed Of Tools to drag Dean into the house for a chat for some completely incomprehensible reason, because this and the preceding scene by all rights should be taking place in The Shed Of Tools, what with The Shed Of Tools being the absolute safest place on the entire farm, which is important because, as I believe I've mentioned a couple of times before, they've got twin inbred mutant freaks -- with apparently amazing night vision despite their troubled genetic history -- slobbering after all of their goddamned asses, so you'd think they'd want to hole themselves up in the absolute safest place on the entire goddamned farm for these endless goddamned tête à têtes, right? RIGHT?
ANY-way, Sam's made it all the way through Suicide Rebecca's diary, and here's the dirt: Her father -- the inbred old coot who got whacked in the pre-credits sequence, just in case you've forgotten about him after all of this crap -- pulled a Fritzl on the poor girl when she was in her late teens, and she quite understandably chose to off herself rather than remain in that attic, getting raped repeatedly by the monster keeping her there for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, she chose to off herself after she'd given birth to Bristol (and Bristol's apparent twin brother Levi, whom the brothers have yet to meet, but whom the brothers will deal with soon enough), so the disgusting and now most thankfully defunct Pa Gibson got a chance to...well, you know the rest, and it's not important, because what is important is that Sam gets all judgy while Dean actually defends the twin inbred mutant freaks from the basement because, you know, he's been to Hell and Sam hasn't so Sam could never possibly know what it's like, and I am perilously close to spending far more brain effort attacking this stupid line of reasoning than this stupid line of reasoning deserves, so next!
Sigh . Okay, this next bit could have been creepy as all hell had they not chosen to present it to the audience as if it had been filmed through those green-tinted night-vision lenses (which it hadn't, and we know it hadn't because their eyes aren't glowing), because all you end up wondering during the whole sequence is, "Who the hell is down in that fucking basement filming Bristol and Special Needs with a goddamned night-vision camera? Is it Levi? Where would Levi get a goddamned night-vision camera? How would Levi even know how to work a goddamned night-vision camera? Why would Levi even need a night-vision camera in the first place? Can't his freakish inbred mutant eyes see as well in the dark as Bristol's? Oh, God, maybe it's those fucking Ghostfacers ! It is, isn't it? Those fucking douchebag homophobes are back, and for whatever stupid, contrived reason The Kripkeeper came up with, Bristol and Levi agreed not to eat them, and instead have granted them access to their swinging inbred mutant freak basement abattoir so those fucking douchebag homophobe Ghostfacers can film Bristol and Levi torturing random special-needs adolescents through green-tinted night-vision lenses! Crap!" And by the time you've worked your way through all of that , you've totally missed Bristol eating a live rat. And when you totally miss Bristol eating a live rat, Raoul is sad, and nobody like a sad Raoul. "[ Sob! ] It's true!"
By the way, there might have been a METAL TEETH CHOMP! in there as well. I'm not rewinding to look.
Meanwhile, topside, Dean busies himself busting through that old laundry chute he and Sam had discovered back when the earth was still cooling. There are deep fingernail gouges on the interior wood, by the way, which is a nice touch. In any event, Dean heads down into the basement to rescue Special Needs while Sam sends Husband off in search of curtains they can knot together like a rope. Next!
Out in The Shed Of Tools, Bristol (or Levi, or both of them) of course manages to break in through one of the walls, so things aren't looking too good for Sassy Daughter and The Legend Of Billie Jean. Next!
Dean finds his trusty pearl-handled automatic amid the basement debris, and lucky for him, the twin inbred mutant basement freaks didn't unload it, because no sooner has he stumbled upon and freed Special Needs than Special Needs shouts, "Hurry! He's coming back!" " He? " Dean hisses, for he has not already seen this episode three times. "Her brother! " Special Needs hisses back, and "AAUAAAARRRRRRRAUUAUAUARRRRGGGGH!" Yep, Levi pounces, and indeed, great is the manly tussling that ensues. Well, I'm assuming the manly tussling that ensues is great, but I can't really be certain, because I'm going off only aural clues, here, because the television screen has once again turned into an inky black mirror through which I can see only myself and Raoul, the latter of whom, I must admit, is looking rather slender. "Thanks!" Next!
Shed Of Tools. Just as Bristol attacks the shed's apprehensive occupants with her trusty butcher's knife, the action cuts back over to...
...the basement abattoir, where Special Needs clambers into the jury-rigged hoist Sam's fashioned from curtains, and as Sam tugs the brat up to the kitchen, Dean's still going at it with Levi. I think. Again: I see nothing! Nothing , I tell you!
Out in the shed, Bristol next tries for the door, but The Legend Of Billie Jean's got a rake (or maybe a hoe. I don't care) with which she hacks away at Bristol's misshapen mutant hands. Next!
Sam sends Husband and the now-rescued Special Needs out to the front lawn while Dean and Levi continue with the tussling noises below. Dean finally manages to latch onto his trusty pearl-handled automatic and plugs Levi full of lead. "VIOLENCE!" shrieks Raoul, giddily thumping his tail against the floorboards with delighted exuberance. "WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOO -- Wait a minute! Is Dean...?! Is he...!? Is Dean... crying?! What is the meaning of this!? There's no crying in violence!" Now, Raoul, calm.... " THERE'S NO CRYING IN VIOLENCE! " Unfortunately, friend of friends, tonight -- for whatever stupid Hell-related reason -- there apparently is crying in violence, for when Levi, his chest thoroughly aerated, flops down dead at Dean's side, Dean appears to be more than a little disappointed with this turn of events. Shut up, Dean. "Shut up indeed! Hmph!"
Shed Of Tools. Bristol finally manages to break in and, long story short, Husband arrives just in time to sack up and drag the murderous mutant freak out into the clearing, where he guts the homicidal genetic abomination like a fish. " GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE?! " a hope-filled Raoul shrieks, and alas, my scaly and very sad friend, there is no gore to be had, for Husband guts the bloodthirsty mutant off screen. " Rats! " Um. "Eeek! Oh, now I've gone and done it! I've reminded myself of my earlier disappointment right after the last one and immediately atop the present! " I'm afraid you have, Raoul. I'm afraid you have. "[ Wail! ]" There, there, Raoul. Have a cocktail. You deserve it. "Copious amounts of gratitude, I'm sure!" Never a problem, Raoul.
The next morning, the boys hastily reload the hastily repaired Impala and, after thanking the surviving Monster Chow for giving them a head start on the soon-to-be-arriving police, motor the hell on out of there. There might have been a touching moment wherein The Legend Of Billie Jean gives voice to her belief that she, Husband, Sassy Daughter, and Special Needs will somehow manage to work through the late trauma together, as a family, but my shoulder hurts, so The Legend Of Billie Jean needs to shut up.
Still later, beneath a ridiculously photogenic overpass, Dean parks the car, and the two disembark for a quiet celebratory breakfast of bacon double cheeseburgers atop Metallicar's hood. Mmmm. Bacon double cheeseburgers. Unfortunately, recent events have conspired to rob Dean of his appetite, and so Sam and the audience are forced to sit silently by while Dean beats himself up again, for the second time in as many episodes, over torturing other souls down in Hell, only this time, he actually admits to liking it a little -- the torture, not the self-flagellation, though I'm beginning to suspect he's inordinately fond of the latter, as well. And...that's it? Yeah, that's it. Well, except for the part where Jensen Ackles's line reading of "I liked it!" makes him sound exactly like Piper Laurie in Carrie , and now I want to hear him do the entire "I smelled the whiskey on his breath, and he took me! He took me with the stink of filthy roadhouse whiskey on his breath and I liked it! I liked it with all that dirty touching of his hands all over me! I should've given you to God when you were born, but I was weak and backsliding , and now the devil has come home!" mini-monologue, but because that would make me happy, it's never going to happen, and so I must remain as sad as Raoul. Sigh . "Have a cocktail! I feel better already!" Thanks, friend of friends. I believe I shall. "Bye-bye, boring episode! [ Hic! ]"
Next week's installment is entitled "Criss Angel Is A Douche Bag," and I think that's all anyone needs to know about it at this point, because if the episode itself is merely half as awesome as its title, it's certain to be one of the best of the season. See you next week!
Demian thinks you'd better tweeze that before people start wondering if you're a cellar-dwelling inbred hillbilly mutant bitch freak, too. Raoul , however, actually prefers the natural look in many instances, and thinks you're perfectly fine the way you are. You may reach the former at demian_twop@yahoo.com. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.
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