Wharton State Forrest, Pine Barrens, NJ - Something or someone is running, gasping. It comes across a man and woman lying in a tent watching TV. They smooch good night and the man turns on a cute device plugged into his ears that says, "This is nature sounds, sounds of nature, volume four." We hear night birds. Abruptly, he's completely zipped up in his sleeping bag so all we see is his face. The camera spins in a dizzying circle. The man realizes he is suspended from a tree and something terrible is happening to him. He calls for his wife. Pieces of his body fall down onto the forest floor, followed by his listening device, covered with blood, then his ear, the device still chillingly talking about sounds of nature.
Hammonton NJ - Sam, Dean and Bobby get the power going in a crappy cabin in the middle of nowhere. "Motel 6 just isn't leaving the light on anymore," jokes Sam. Bobby is taking a leaf from Frank Devereaux's bible--when everyone is out to get you, paranoia is just plain common sense. Dean is tired of living with cold showers and cold Hot Pockets, this is the bottom they're living in. "How many Big Mouths are out there?" asks Bobby, "running card traces like Chet, or hunting us down God knows what ways--no, now isn't the time to be layin' out bedrolls out on the grid, not if we can help it." The power sparks and goes out. Dean rubs his face. "That's just GREAT," he bitches. Sam switches on a lantern. "Our quality of life is crap," says Dean, "we've got Purgatory's least-wanted everywhere, we're on the world's third screwed issue and what?--three years?--and we steered the bus away from the cliff twice already?" Sam points out that somebody's gotta do it. What if the bus wants to go over the cliff? suggests Dean. "You think the world wants to end?" asks Sam. "I think if we hadn't taken its belt and all its pins away each year, then yeah, the whole enchilada would have offed itself already," says Dean. Bobby advises him to stop wrestling with the big picture, he'll hurt his head. Dean grabs a beer from a cooler. Sam sits at the table with Bobby, who asks, "What's the guff?" "There have been a rash of sightings over the Southern Pine Barrens," reports Sam, "a fast, human-like creature." "Jersey Devil," reads Bobby from the weird photo Sam shows them, "I thought that was just local tall tale crap." History goes back two centuries, says Sam, some gave it bat wings, others horns, others, a tail, and oh, yeah, a horse's head. "Looks more like a Chewbacca head," jokes Dean from the bed. Bobby says it sounds mixed up, Dean says it should be fighting a Japanese robot. Mixed up or not, Sam says it has a body count. CAMPING SEASON HARSHED BY HUMAN BURRITO reads a headline Sam shows Bobby. Something hung a camper from a tree and ate him through his sleeping bag, explains Sam, and his wife hasn't been seen, either. There have been four missing persons in the past 3 weeks; state troopers (get this) are saying it's a rogue bear. "When was the last time you saw a bear string up its own pinata?" asks Dean. Something's out there in the woods, says Bobby, we're going on an honest to goodness wilderness hunt--"I haven't used my 30-30 in a while." It's going to have to wait until tomorrow, Davy Crockett, says Dean, and until after our suit and tie dance, we have to make sure this isn't just some backwoods crackhead who likes to roll glampers. "What's a glamper?" asks Bobby. "High end camper," answers Sam, "TV, A/C, wi-fi--back to nature, zero inconvenience." "Idiotic," opines Bobby. Yeah, agrees Sam, some people just don't know how to live.
Biggerson's - The suited-up brothers speak with "Ranger Rick" who found the "human burrito" in the woods. â€œThat was no bear attack,â€ according to Rick, munching on a giant sandwich. â€œThe woods are big, with a lotta trees. Ya gotta respect Mother Nature, or she'll string you up, eat your ass right through the Gortex.â€ He and Assistant Chief Ranger Phil (who, come to think of it, he hasn't seen in a couple of days) have been finding something's leftovers for weeks--deer remains, badger, missing pets. "You think Phil might be missing?" asks Sam. Rick thinks he should probably report that. (Duh!) Seeing Bobby enter, Dean leaves their card and tells him to enjoy lunch. They join Bobby, who reports he checked out the cadaver, unhappy camper. No stats on the Jersey Devil, but the bite radius is too small for a Leviathan, and he's still got a ventricle and some change, so I doubt we're talkin' werewolf. Wendigo don't leave no scraps. Dean grabs Brandon and requests a booth. Brandon: "Douchewad, the hostess will seat you--do I look like a freakin' hostess?" "Do you wanna look like a hostess?" warns Dean angrily. Brandon stalks off. Sam asks if what Dean said makes sense. "What was THAT?" wonders Dean. Bobby hopes they don't end up in Brandon's section. But they do; Brandon puts down Sam's soup and salad in front of him and calls him Big Bird. Dean is "Ken Doll." Heart Smart goes to Bobby, aka "Creepy Uncle." "What is your problem?" asks Dean. "YOU are my problem!" shouts Brandon, and leaves. (I would never touch my food after that!) Bobby wonders what's got his flare all up in a bunch; Sam says, "There goes his 18 percent." "Chief Ranger--I don't think he believes in the Jersey Devil," says Dean. "Did he seem a little stoned to you?" asks Sam. "Ranger Rick?--definitely growin' his own on the back forty and smokin' all the profits," says Dean, biting into his sandwich. "He did seem to think there was something," begins Sam. "Oh, that's a good sandwich!" exclaims Dean, who ordered the Pepperjack Turducken Slammer, available for a limited time only. "Buncha birds shoved up inside each other," says Bobby, "shouldn't play God like that." "Don't look at me sideways from that Chinese Chicken Caesar salad there," says Dean, "this is awesome, it's the perfect storm of your top three edible birds." He takes another huge bite. Gazing with disapproval at his brother, Sam says, "Anyways, the ranger did seem to think there was something out of the ordinary out in the forest." "Then I'd say it's safari time," says Bobby. Behind the counter, Brandon is yelling "You're telling me she's not fat--up yours, Mike, shove it right up yours!" He takes off and tosses away his apron and stalks out of the restaurant. "Anyway, back to bigger and better things," says Dean, returning eagerly to his sandwich.
Woods - Sam, Bobby and Dean walk the woods, shotguns at the ready. Bobby finds fur from two bucks head-butting over turf and figures out which of them won, knowledge that impresses Sam and Dean. "I guess I forgot," says Sam, "before you were a hunter, you were actually a HUNTER." "We shot our dinner when I was a kid," says Bobby. "You used to take us hunting when we were kids," says Dean, "Dad had a case, he'd just dump us on you; you must have taught us most of the outdoor trackin' we knew." "What I could get to stick," grumbles Bobby, "never could get you grubs to pull the trigger on a single deer." The brothers smile. "You're talkin' about Bambi, man," says Dean. "You don't shoot Bambi, jackass," says Bobby with a nasty grin, "you shoot Bambi's mother." Sam frowns and shakes his head. They find a bloody body hanging from a tree. "Looks like we found Phil," says Dean.
Night - Ranger Rick pulls up in his vehicle. "Special Agents! Listen, I got your call," he says, "but I'm not sure I got what you were saying." Dean shines the flashlight up. "Hey, I think we found Phil," says Rick calmly. "That's what I said," says Dean. "I should probably call this in," suggests Rick. Dean nods. "Yeah, solid move," says Sam. We hear the sound of creepy breathing when CHIEF Ranger Evans calls in. "Ranger, I think we got company," warns Bobby. "Yeah, who's that?" asks Rich cheerfully, as something grabs him and drags him away. Sam screams "RANGER!" He, Dean and Bobby tear off after Rick and his captor.
"Ranger Evans! Ranger!" calls Sam. "It's got him up in the trees," says Bobby, and they all focus their flashlights and guns upward. "Light off," orders Bobby. Sam starts to object, but Bobby says, "Ease off, shut off and listen." The brothers comply, only to hear the most God-awful sounds of bones breaking and chomping. "The damn thing's eaten' Rick," whispers Bobby. "Layin' out like Rick," says Dean. The other two look at him oddly. Bobby closes his eyes and fires. Something falls from the tree onto the ground. "Nice job," praises Dean. "Seriously," agrees Sam. "We all got our gifts," says Bobby, kneeling to look at what he shot. "What about the rest of Ranger Rick?" asks Dean, looking at the lone leg and hat lying on the ground. "Ranger called in his 10-20," Bobby reminds him, "we got crap to do."
They carry the gray-colored human back to the cabin and place him on the table. "Built like a super model, but the thing was damn strong," says Bobby, "carried a full-grown man up a tree in nothin' flat." "But it only took one bullet to bring it down," points out Sam. Not even a silver bullet, just a bullet bullet, says Dean. The creature awakens and attacks. All three hunters pump him full of bullets. "First one musta just stunned it," realizes Bobby. Dean checks the creature's wallet, quipping on how all those bullets are going to ruin the leather. Sam snatches away the wallet. "Are you feelin' okay?" asks Bobby. "I feel great," Dean assures him. "Gerald Browder," reads Sam, "lived here in town, 5 foot 9, brown hair, blue eyes, 235 pounds." They gaze at the skinny man. "Apparently he's lost a little pudge," says Bobby. "Maybe it's a lap-band side effect," quips Dean, making inappropriate gestures to go with it. Bobby sticks a pole in the guy's chest, lifting out disgusting gray goo. "What the hell?" Bobby decides they should have a look under Gerald's hood. He and Sam don gloves and find out Gerald's organs are swimming in this stuff. Dean has poured a drink for himself, announces he's hungry, and asks what they have pulled from the body. "For a guy on a diet, Gerry packed it in pretty good," says Bobby. "That's human, right there," says Sam. "Fresh Rick," says Bobby. (EWWWWW!) Plus, pine cone, pack of gun, still in wrapper, Ranger Phil, or perhaps the camper, a cat's head. Bobby thinks you have to be damn hungry to eat a cat's head. They locate the adrenal glands, which should be the size of a hotel bar soap and orange-colored, and here are the size of a baby's head and black. That might help explain the strength, says Sam, but whatever this is, it's not the Jersey Devil, but it sure isn't Gerald Browder anymore. "Seriously, guys," says Dean, "time for dinner?" (AFTER WATCHING THAT HIDEOUS AUTOPSY??)
Dean chows down on another of the same sandwiches as before, Sam and Bobby just have coffee. Sam looks up the vic's stats. Missing person #3, 45, self-employed, he disappeared eight days ago and was an A/C repairman. That explains all the people that got eaten in the last eight days, remarks Bobby. The question is, says Sam, what happened to him? He poses the question directly to Dean, who, engrossed in his sandwich, says, "I'm not worried about it." "Excuse me?" demands Bobby. "Funny, right?" says Dean--"I don't give two shakes of a rat's ass--do rats shake their ass or is it something else?" Sam and Bobby are staring at each other, freaked out, then stare around the restaurant and see how many other diners are chowing down with intense hunger on the exact same sandwich. Sam snatches away Dean's food. "Give me that," he demands. "WHY?" cries Dean. "There's some funky chicken in the TDK Slammer, ain't there?" says Bobby. "Yeah," says Sam, taking a whiff and recoiling. They take the rest back to the cabin in a foil swan. "This is stupid," insists Dean, "the sandwich didn't do anything--I don't know what you think you're going to find." "There's something WRONG with you, Dean," says Bobby. "Are you kidding?-- I'm FINE," says Dean, sitting up on the sink, "I actually feel great, best I've felt in a couple of months--Cas, black goo, I don't even care anymore. You know what's even better?--I don't care that I don't care--I just want my damn Slammer back." "You're completely stoned, just like Ranger Rick was," accuses Sam. "Just like the dinner rush back at Biggerson's," says Bobby, "and everybody's lovin' the Turducken." Dean's sandwich suddenly belches, and gray goo spills out of it. (I almost threw up, no lie!) "I think you pissed off my sandwich," accuses Dean, jumping off the sink. "That's in me?" "Only half of it," says Sam. "Does that SNOT look familiar?" asks Bobby. "So whatever turned Gerald Browder into a pumpkin-head and is currently turning Dean into an idiot. . ." "I'm right here--right here," Dean reminds him. "Is in the Turducken sandwich at Biggerson's" says Bobby with alarm, "it's in the meat!" "If I wasn't chilled out right now," says Dean, "I would puke." But he shrugs, completely mellow and replete.
Biggerson's - Bobby is in the driver's seat, Sam shotgun, Dean sleeping it off in the backseat in what Bobby calls a tryptophan coma. "So you think he's okay?" asks Sam. "He's all right," Bobby assures him. "So you don't worry about him?" asks Sam. "What do you mean?" asks Bobby--"before the Turducken?" "I kinda mean more like ever since my head broke," amends Sam, "since we lost Cas--you ever feel like he's going through the same motions but he's not the same Dean, you know?" "How could he be?" queries Bobby. "Yeah," says Sam, "but what if. . ." "What if what, Sam?" pushes Bobby--"you know, you worry about him, all he does is worry about you, who's left to live their own life here? The two of you--aren't you full up playing Snuffaluffagus with the devil all the live-long?" "I dunno, Bobby," says Sam, "seein' Lucifer's fine with me." "Come again?" says Bobby. "I'm not saying it's fun," says Sam, "to be honest with you, I kinda see it as the best case scenario, (he's pressing his once-injured hand that binds him to Dean), "but at least all my crazies are under one umbrella, you know, and I kinda know what I'm dealing with--a lotta people got worse." Staring at him, Bobby says, "You always were one deep little son-of-a-bitch." (This made me tear up, can't explain why.) "Wait, wait, here we go," says Sam as a tractor-trailer pulls up to Biggerson's. A man carts in several boxes from Midwest Meat and Poultry. "I guess we follow," says Bobby, and they do.
N. E. Law Center - A woman leaving the building is attacked by Brandon but someone climbing from a plate numbered B2Y 526 smacks him right off her.