Episode Report Card
Demian: A- | 7 USERS: A+
No Rest For The Wicked

...RAAAWWWR! lashes out to snatch him into the title card! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" shrieks Raoul as per usual before he settles back in his overstuffed armchair to toss me A Look. What gives, my scaly friend? "That...that horrendous abomination is what gives, if you care to ask!" The title card? I thought we already discus... "NO, you SILLY LITTLE MAN, not the TITLE CARD!" Dude, I believe the volume is reaching uncomfortable levels again. "Oh, I do apologize, I'm sure!" Raoul shrieks, though at a far lower decibel level than his previous sentence. Thanks for taking it down a notch. "Don't mention it!" Now, what were you howling about just now? "You know what I'm howling about! That...that...thing!" I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that. "Oh, fine! Make me say it! You don't care about me! You never have! [Wail!]" Raoul, the histrionics aren't getting us... "It's that girl, if you must have me spit it all out like some common...common thing! [Sob!] That LITTLE GIRL!" Oh! You mean Lilith? "[Whimper!]" Well, what am I supposed to do about it? It's not like I can skip over her scenes tonight, or anything. "YES! YES YOU CAN! YOU CAN SKIP OVER EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HER AWFUL EVIL AWFUL WICKED AWFUL FOUL AWFUL PERVERSE SCENES THIS EVENING!" But I... "YOU MUST!" Okay, how about I warn you when she's about to appear, and until she's gone you can, like, scamper off to disembowel a cat, or something? "Capital idea...hey! I do not disembowel cats! Honestly! And ruin my manicure?! What sort of déclassé creature do you think I am!?" Never mind. So, it's a deal? "It is!" And I may continue? "You may!" Thanks, friend of friends. "My pleasure, I'm sure!" Oy.

In yet another of the innumerable run-down shacks occupying Bobby's expansive Dakota estate, the lord of the manor himself places an unnecessarily elaborate tripod atop a map on a table and promises Our Intrepid Heroes that, by the time he's done with the ritual he's about to perform, he'll have pinpointed Lilith's current coordinates down to the very street she stands upon. And yes, I called the tripod system here "unnecessarily elaborate" because The Manor Morons achieved the exact same results by deploying nothing more complicated than a tawdry bauble suspended from a string for eight godforsaken years, so don't go thinking you're all so fancy there, Bobby. Especially because The Glamorous Idiots also got the job done sans Latination, which Bobby chants until the tripod's swinging pointer lands on New Harmony, Indiana, which is a most inharmonious place, indeed, if that Wikipedia entry's anything to go by. Oh, show. Oh, clever, clever show. In any event, Darling Sammy's all fired up to hit the road right this very second, but Dean has a number of reservations he'd like to elaborate upon, thank you very much. "First of all," he explains, "we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal -- we're goin' off of Bela's intel? When that bitch breathes, the air comes out crooked!" Not anymore, it doesn't. "Hooray!" "Second," Dean continues, "even if we could get to Lilith, we have no way to gank her, and third, isn't this the same Lilith that wants your giant head on a pike? Should I continue, Sam?" "Ain't you just bringing down the room?" Bobby snorts, for he is witty that way. Dean's all, "Whatever!" to the snorting and Sam's continued objections and whatnot, and insists, "Either we go in smart, or we don't go in at all." So, that means there's no chance of them going in, ever? Sorry! Sorry -- he set me up for that one. In any event, Sam shoots back, "Fine! If that's the case, then I have the answer: A sure-fire way to confirm it's Lilith and a way to get us a bona-fide demon-killing ginsu!" Dean, understanding Sam wishes to summon Ruby The Sparkly-Haired Demon, voices his objections to calling upon "the Miss Universe of lying skanks" for aid -- loudly -- and the entire conversation quickly degenerates into screamy, hair-pulling slapfight until Dean howls, "No! We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again!" This shuts Sam and Bobby up, mainly because neither of them has the faintest clue what "mistakes" the ranty and doomed little bow-legged midget is yelling about here. "If you guys want to save me," Dean continues after an uncomfortable pause, "find something else." The doomed little bow-legged midget clompy stomps back over to his hellhound-related research, so I guess we're actually in the same decrepit, barn-like ruin of an outbuilding on Bobby's expansive Dakota estate as we were before, but that's not important right now. No, what matters is the fact that Bobby's wasting no time at all shrugging himself back into his trusty down vest. "Where you going'?" Sam asks. "I guess to...find something else!" Bobby flails before exiting the frame. The camera lingers as Darling Sammy determinedly sets his remarkably broad jaw, and at the last moment, it freezes on his steely expression before cross-fading over to...






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