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Back in the basement, in his latest attempt to get Chet to talk, Bobby brings out a big car battery. â€œDoes this skin make me look fat?â€ asks Chet. To his horror, Bobby looks up and sees that the Leviathan has taken on HIS face and body. (We'll keep calling him Chet) â€œBalls,â€ ejaculates Bobby. â€œIt's pretty dark in here,â€ says BC, â€œhigh school dropout, a drunk like your daddy before you, oh, you and dad, now that's a can of scorpions. Your favorite singer is Joni frickin' Mitchell? Aw, Bobby. You were 10 pounds of sad in a five pound bag.â€ Bobby's face twists with hatred.
Ankeny Hotel - Sam and Dean spot their clones driving by in AN Impala. "Oh, no, this is all sorts of wrong," says Sam. The clones get out of the car. "Nice wheels," says Dean, "when this is all over, I'm stealin' those rims." He calls Bobby to let him know they have eyes on their clones. "Tell the kids I said hi," Chet smirks. "It's like lookin' in a fun- house mirror," says Dean. "I know the feeling," Bobby assures him. "Tell me you got something, or I'm gonna have to get in close," says Dean. "Just hang back for now," advises Bobby. "It's too late," says Dean, we gotta. . ." A police car, siren on, blares at them and orders Sam and Dean to put their hands in the air. Dean points to the clones and tells the cops, "Big misunderstanding, the guys you want are right there, turn around, look!" "Get off the phone, put your hands in the air!" orders the cop. Overhearing this, Bobby is frantic. "Dean? Dean!" he calls. Dean tosses his phone into the police car. DC winks at the Winchesters as he drives away.
"The thing about you," begins Chet. Bobby orders him to save it--"I already know about me, handsome." "You got the gruff thing down," continues Chet, "seen more death than an electric chair. Ready to die with your boots on. You know, deep down inside, you're no cynic--you still hope--you got a thing for that lady upstairs. Tiny part of you thinks maybe after all this is done, you and Miss Sheriff might make your own little cabin in the woods." He laughs at Bobby, cruel and mean, adding, "that's hilarious. You're not gettin' any older than tomorrow, Bobby, why do you bother?" "You a Browning fan?" asks Bobby, picking up the sword. "Come again?" asks Chet. "Robert Browning," says Bobby, "poet--you got that name rattling around up there along with the rest of my thoughts and feelings?" "It's kinda hard to sift through all the drunken blackouts," admits Chet. "But a man's reach should exceed his grasp," says Bobby. "I like that," says Chet, "that's actually lovely--Browning--after I eat you, I'm definitely going to hit the library."
(Ed. note: I must confess, I find Chet hilarious, both as Bobby and himself. He's smart, funny and very entertaining. I enjoyed him, and whether or not he and his body are going to join forces again, I don't know, but if there's any way we can get him on our side, that would be terrific. He's a fun character, IMHO, like Crowley.)
Something begins dripping from the ceiling onto Chet's arm. Acting like acid, it burns a hole in his flesh. "Get it off! Get it off!!" he shouts over and over. "GET IT OFF MEEEEEEE!"
Bobby races upstairs. Jody was cleaning the floor and apparently spilled something. "Sorry, a little snafu here," she says. Bobby drags her into his arms and plants a big, wet kiss on her mouth. "Okay, I wasn't expecting THAT reaction," she says. "What the hell was in that bucket?" he asks. (Ed note: Bobby, what does she have to do to get you to toss her on the bed for a good, solid humping?)
Sam and Dean, protesting, are dragged into the police station. You have the wrong guys, the brothers are protesting. Dean wants his phone call. They send Dean to a cell, Sam to the interview room. Once they're separate and secure, the Sheriff orders his deputies to call it a night. "You're making a mistake!" shouts Sam.
The Sam and Dean clones have been waiting in their car outside the police station for the hapless departing deputies. They exit the car and close in on the hapless deputies.
Back inside the station, another deputy sees the other two return. "What, did you forget something or what?" he asks. One of the other deputies comes up behind him and twists and breaks his neck with a horrible cracking sound. He then turns into a Leviathan and swoops down for his food. Yummy!
The Sheriff comes to Dean's cell. "I want my phone call," demands Dean, "it's my right!" "You killed how many people in the past few days and you want me to hop-to on your rights?" says the Sheriff peevishly. "I didn't. . .please, just give me ONE phone call," begs Dean. Something about the sincerity in his tone and on his face convinces the Sheriff; Moments later, the lawman is holding a cell phone up to the bars, listening to every word Dean exchanges with Bobby, who is all set to come there right away. "No time," says Dean, "we saw them, they saw us, so WE are coming to get US--you read me?--have you got anything?" "There's a chemical," explains Bobby, "sodium borate." Dean is all set to get Mr. Wizard on speed dial, but Bobby assures him it's not as weird as it sounds--it's just borax, found in industrial cleaners and soaps and laundry powder--look for anything with the word borax in it. "You want me to desperate housewife these mothers?" demands Dean."Trust me, it burns 'em bad enough to slow 'em down," promises Bobby, "so get the strongest you can find, hear me?" "Borax, burns," says Dean, "got it." "Then, douse 'em, and when you get close, chop the heads off," instructs Bobby, taking a wrapped-up head in his hands and placing it in a box, "and keep the head separate." "Got it," says Dean, "Bobby, you're a genius, thanks, I. . ." The Sheriff slams his phone shut. "What did you do that for?" asks Dean angrily. "Borax? Decapitation?" says the Sheriff--"what kind of sickos are you and your friends?" He starts to walk away. "You listen to me," says Dean gruffly, "if you don't go get every ounce, every drop of whatever that stuff is in this place right now, we are ALL gonna die!" "Whoa, you're crazier than I thought," says the Sheriff, walking away. "HEY!" calls Dean. The Sheriff turns a corner and spots one of his deputies noshing on another. He lifts his head, his face covered in blood. Another enters, berating him for taking time for lunch when there's no time. "I was hungry whines the blood-covered deputy. "Later," says the other, "let's go." The Sheriff hides, watching this horror-show. The bloody-mouthed one wipes his mouth on his sleeve and morphs into Sam; the other into Dean. They saunter out of the police station.
The sheriff returns to Dean's cell, mumbling incoherently that he has no idea what he just saw. â€œLet me out of here,â€ Dean commands, and the sheriff frees him. â€œYou listen to me and we'll live,â€ says Dean, â€œkeep your head down, go to the supply closet, get anything that says borax on it, bring it hereâ€”now, go!â€ The man with the badge complies.
Sam struggles to get out of his handcuffs when DC enters the conference room. Sam holds out the cuffs, hoping his brother will help him out of them. â€œI'm not your brother,â€ DC says, â€œbut I am Dean-adjacent.â€ Sam glares at him.
Dean takes the gun away from the recently eaten man lying across the desk. â€œSorry,â€ he says. He spies Sam, but realizes quickly it's not Sam and shoots him. SC bats the gun out of his hands and tosses Dean into the glass trophy case across the room.
â€œI just want you to know how much I've grown to hate you and your brother since we've been wearing you,â€ says DC to Sam. â€œI just don't get itâ€”you could be anythingâ€”you're strong, uninhibited, smarter, believe it or not, but you're so caught up in being good and taking care of each other.â€ â€œWhat do you care?â€ asks Sam. â€œBECAUSE IT PISSES ME OFF!â€ shouts DC--â€you're wasting a perfectly good opportunity to subjugate the weak.â€
Dean clambers to his feet and smashes open the glass case containing a hatchet on the wall. â€œCuteâ€”really think you'll get close enough to use it?â€ asks SC. â€œNot until you're burning,â€ says Dean. SC looks puzzledâ€”until the sheriff tosses a bucket of something on him that makes him screechâ€”and black smoke issue from his body. Dean takes the opportunity to cut his head off. Black blood flows from the head and the body.
â€œHere's the deal,â€ says DC, â€œDean thinks you're nut-balls. He thinks you're off your game.â€ â€œYou gonna kill me or is this some kind of play with your food bull?â€ asks Sam, irritated. â€œAll right,â€ grins DC, â€œI guess that's why Dean never told you he killed Amy.â€ Sam stares at him in angry disbelief. â€œThere it is,â€ says DC gleefully, â€œthe look on your face, that is PRICELESS! THAT'S what I've been waitin' for! Now I can eat you. 'Cuz you see, I like my meat a little bitter.â€ (Ed. note: This line is very funny, but also very cruel.) Dean enters and tosses the borax liquid onto DC, who screams in pain. Immediately after, he cuts off his head. Sam looks at the headless body behind him. â€œWow, that felt good,â€ says Dean. The Sheriff uncuffs Sam. â€œGo, the FBI is on the way,â€ he says. â€œListen to me,â€ says Dean, â€œabout that. . .â€ â€œWhatever I can do,â€ says the sheriff, â€œespecially if it involves lying about what I just saw.â€ â€œGood,â€ says Dean, â€œI was hoping you could kind of help us. . .be dead. You knowâ€”quote unquote.â€ â€œYeah, I should be able to swing that,â€ agrees the Sheriff. â€œAll right,â€ says Dean, â€œcome on, let's grab a mop.â€ He looks for Sam. â€œSammy, you okay?â€ â€œYeah I'm fine,â€ says Sam. â€œLet's go,â€ urges Dean.
"That's when I got the drop on them and shot them both," describes the Sheriff to the FBI men and a lady coroner . "You did good," praises one of the FBI guys. "Here's the files," says the coroner, "multiple gunshot wounds, I have fingerprints of course for your records." "Mind if we take a look at the bodies?" asks FBI guy. "Their bodies were sent to a funeral home for cremation," explains the Sheriff, "as per their living wills and religious requirements." "Wow, that must be some kind of record; they died LAST NIGHT," complains the FBI. "You can contact the funeral home, they might still have the bodies," says the Sheriff, "once we do the autopsies, we're obliged to release the bodies." "You had the bodies destroyed?" asks FBI guy incredulously--"what kind of backwater operation is this?" "Easy," says the other FBI guy, "forget about it--no bodies, no paperwork, right? Someone once told me that was a good thing?The good news still stands--this case is closed--Sam and Dean Winchester are dead. The coroner accepts the file and the two FBI guys leave.
On TV in Bobby's dingy cabin, a reporter says, "The Winchester crime spree has come to a violent end in Iowa, where they were gunned down. . ." Bobby shuts it off. "Jody, slipping on her jacket, says, "That should take the heat off--for now." "Thanks, Jody, I couldn't have done it without you," says Bobby. "Anytime you need me to spill something else, just give me a call," she smiles. "Actually," he says, stepping forward,making her smile grow larger, "there is one more thing." He steps around her (damn him) and hands her a box. "Don't open it, even if it starts talkin'--ESPECIALLY if it starts talkin'," says Bobby, "when you cross over Underhill Bridge, just toss it in the drink. If you excuse me, I got a body to bury in cement." Jody's smile has faded considerably, but Bobby kisses her on the cheek, very close to her mouth. She looks at him archly, takes her bizarre little gift, and heads for the door.
Police station - "Dad, seriously, lying to the FBI, incinerating bodies, and this stuff? What the hell is it, 'cause it sure isn't blood?" "You're right about that, sweetie," says FBI Agent Valente, standing behind them, "it's much more than blood." "I can explain," says the Sheriff. "Don't bother," says FBI guy, who morphs into a Leviathan and comes after the Sheriff and will, I'm sure, come after his daughter, too. Blood hits the wall in copious quantities.
Valente reports to Roman, his boss, that the Winchester clones' heads are missing. "But the actual Winchesters are dead, yes?" Roman. "No, sir, they're in the wind," reports Valente, wiping off the remnants of his Sheriff and daughter stew. "So all that brain power, all those resources, and those two field mice are still on my to-do list?" asks Roman, annoyed. "I'm sorry, sir," says Valente, "we can grab some more DNA, double them again." "I like where your head's at, but sometimes, less is more," says Roman, heading for a huge black stretch limo, "those boys coming back from the dead again start to strain credulity before the American media, am I right?" "Yessir," agrees Valente. "I like a subtler approach," says Roman, "back to the vision board on this one." "Of course," lackies Valente. "Secure the bodies and get back to the FBI and we'll give this Winchester situation a good think," says Roman. "Definitely. Thanks, sir," toadies Valente. "And next time, call me with a win," says his boss, "for your sake--please don't make me bib you." "Yessir," says Valente. They hang up. "Craving a latte," the boss tells his driver, giving him some cash, "mind running across the street before we hit the trail, two pumps vanilla and grab yourself whatever you want--my treat." He climbs into the limo. "Mr. Roman, I thought it was time we met in person," says Crowley, appearing in the limo on a seat close by, "I'm Crowley, I run hell." "Yes, yes," says Roman, "I agree, 100 percent, high time we met." Crowley shows him a basket he has in his lap, muffins, 100% organic baby (?), gluten free. "So considerate," says Roman. I'll cut to the chase," says Crowley. "Please--Dick," says the other man. "Dick," repeats Crowley, "you and I control rather large interests I feel strongly could meld to the benefit of all." "You think?" asks Dick. "I KNOW," says Crowley. "Straight talk--we should be friends, you and I says the King of Hell. "Why in the world would we be?" asks Roman. "I brought you here. . .Dick," Crowley reminds him, "I found a way to open the door to Purgatory." "To steal every last soul, you mean," says Roman, "you and that angel friend of yours--don't roofie me and call it romance." "I think you've got me wrong," says Crowley, nonplussed. "That's your journalism," says Roman, "I'd sooner swim through hot garbage than shake hands with a bottom-feeding mutation like you. You demons are ugly, lazy, gold-digging whores. You're less than humans, and they're not much until you dip 'em in garlic sauce. I'd never work with you, Crowley. In fact, if I wasn't busy with better things, I might actively wipe your kind from the face of the universe--and you deserve it--am I clear?" "Keep the muffins," says Crowley, and disappears.
(Ed. Note: Wow, feel the hatred much? It's clear that Dick Romanâ€”let's get all the sexual innuendo out of the way, that guy has a roaming dick, doesn't he, heh heh hehâ€”despises our Crowley, I was tempted to say, tell us how you REALLY feel, Roman! Whew, I could almost smell the hate spewing out of the TV! Wonder where that all comes from. I know there was no love lost between Crowley and Cas, but still,. . .would love to know this relationship Also, we thought the Big Boss over the Leviathans was Cas himself, but this guy seems to be, so that puts the kibosh on that theory.)
In the middle of nowhere, but nearby water, Dean opens the car's hood in preparation for disposing of their clones' heads. "You sure you want to dump these things?" he jokingly asks Sam--"I'm thinkin' they might actually come in handy down the road--what do you think?" Sam, who has been leaning pensively over the top of the car, doesn't respond. "Hey," says Dean, "what is it? Talk." "Nothing," says Sam gloomily. "That's convincing," says Dean. "Did our monster us give you the jeebs, huh? 'cause I gotta be honest, I ain't lookin' in a mirror for a while myself." "Okay," says Sam, facing him, "you really want to know what's wrong?" "Yeah--you know my motto, here to help," says Dean. "Here to help," repeats Sam, "kinda like you helped Amy?" Dean's face falls; his brother knows. "Listen, Sam," he begins. Sam shakes his head. "Don't lie to me again," he says angrily, breathing heavily--"you know, don't even TALK to me!" Dean nods. "Yeah I get it," adds Sam, and reaches into the car to grab his duffel. "You know what, Dean? I can't." He starts walking away. "You can't what?" asks Dean. "I can't talk to you right now!" insists Sam, then turns around, arms outstretched, duffel in one hand, laptop in the other, and adds, "I can't even be AROUND you right now!" "Okay, so," says Dean. "So I think you should just go on without me," says Sam. Dean stands there, nodding, silent. "Go," orders Sam. "All right," agrees Dean, certainly heartbroken, "sorry, Sam."
Sam slings his duffel over his shoulder, gives Dean a look of disappointment and anger, and walks away from him.
(Ed. note: Very hard to watch. Once again, I wonder if Sam is more angry because Dean killed Amy or because he lied. Or both.)
I had read that it was like watching a husband and wife argue, and they had to change some of the dialog. I can understand Sam's fury, but I know he'll calm down and understand why Dean did it.
We all know how badly these two do when apart. I'm anxious to see next week's ep. Keeping with my no spoiler policy, I didn't watch coming attractions.
I thought this episode was chock full of a lot of stuff, didn't you, and so many characters! Leviathan FBI, Jody, the Big Boss Laviathan, Sheriff man and his daughter who got killed and eaten, Chetâ€”was it me or were there just a plethora of characters that seemed to create a pretty pivotal ep here?
Do you think Sam's reaction to learning Dean killed Amy immature and typical? Running away? Or do you think he just needs some cooling off time and he'll be back soon?
What did you think of the thing between Crowley and the Big Bad Leviathan guy? He thinks Crowley is lower than dog poop. Any speculation as to why?
I LOVED the scenes with Bobby and Jody. What did you think? I've been rooting for them since she lost her husband and son. Am I crazy to think that they might have a life together someday?
Now that they have found a temporary way to deal with the Leviathans, do they need a new villain? Or have they pretty much solved their problems with this one? Of course, the Roman has plans for Sam and Dean still. When you think about it, why is it so hard to get rid of two mere mortals?
What did you think of the â€œAll Out of Loveâ€ scene in the car? Sad? Embarrassing? Romantic? Want to rip out your eardrums every time you hear the song? I personally have always hated that damn song and Air Supply in general. (From Alice - I've always hated it until now. Just like Asia's "Heat of The Moment" now I can hear the song and laugh. I love it when the show ruins a bad song in a good way. Ditto for anything by the Jefferson Starship now.)
I think Chet is a really fun, cool character. What about you? Were you sorry to see him beheaded and tossed in the drink? Do you hope we'll see his head and body reunited someday?
What did you think of the clones' assessment of themselves? He doesn't have relationships, he has applications for sainthood. Is the preceding sentence TRUE about Dean? I never thought so!
Finally, I give this ep a 9 out of 10 score. What about you?