Episode Report Card
Demian: C+ | 6 USERS: A+
The Hardy Boys Have A Furry Fetish

In any event, Wayne immediately snatches the mangy little thing from its bed of black velvet and starts ranting, "Are you kidding me? I'm gonna die from a damn rabbit's foot?" "Oh, you don't know the half of it, honey!" titters Raoul, giddily anticipating the gore to come, and Raoul! Would you let me get to it, first? "As long as you're quick about it! This particular installment of our delightful little bit of televisual entertainment is beginning to drag!" "Beginning"? Didn't you read what I know what? Not worth it. No sooner has Wayne wrapped his hand around the fetish than a neighbor comes a-pounding on the dingy apartment's front door. Grossman crosses to answer and rather indiscreetly informs the gentleman he finds on the landing of Wayne's current predicament. Turns out that's a very good thing, because the new arrival "used to be an Army medic in 'Nam." He hustles over to examine Wayne's wound and, after sending Grossman to fetch his first-aid kit, smirks down at his patient as he supposes, "I guess this is your lucky day." Wayne grinds down into an odd bit of slow-motion as he directs his attention from the medic above him to the rabbit's foot at his side. Is that a DUN!? I think that's supposed to be a DUN! Oh, fuck it. Let 'em actually earn it the next time.

A short time later, Metallicar grumbles up next to a crappy little Corolla parked outside Chez Dipshits. Dean confirms the Corolla's license plate matches the one caught on the storage facility's security tapes and remarks about the dipshits' dipshittery before we hop back upstairs to find...

...Wayne gloating over a particularly excellent poker hand of four kings. Given what's to come, I would have preferred aces over eights at this juncture, but I suppose they figured no one would get the reference. Because apparently we're all idiots. In any event, as Grossman affably enough deals again, Our Intrepid Heroes silently pick the back door's lock and make with the Tough Guy Jazz Hands down the hall with their weapons at the ready. No, not like that. "Dirty!" shrieks Raoul, this time shocked and appalled yet strangely excited at the same time. Filthy beast. "Hey!" Out in the living room, Wayne's nailed his second royal flush in eight hands, and is just coming to the realization that he can't lose thanks to the mangy fetish's intercession when Sam and Dean burst into the room, screaming, "Freeze!" and "Don't move!" and the like, and the wacky shenanigans may Yep, Dean slams Wayne backwards against the wall, shouting questions while shoving his gun into the poor man's face, but the instant the mangy fetish distracts his attention, Wayne bats Dean's business hand away with enough force to send the pearl-handled automatic to the floor, where it instantly fires off a round of its own accord upon impact. That bullet ricochets first off the radiator to slam into Sam's gun, stinging it out of The Ginormotron's mighty mitt before ricocheting again to zip right past Dean's head and shatter a lamp. There quickly follows -- accompanied by some Blues Brothers-esque funky-funky keyboarding on the soundtrack -- a rapid-fire sequence of shots in which Grossman and Wayne knock the snot out of Our Intrepid Heroes, thanks mainly to the fact that Our Intrepid Heroes have been transformed into a pair of literally bumbling and bungling idiots through the mangy fetish's influence. They accidentally smack into each other and the furniture and such until, finally, If It's Thursday, Sam's Getting Choked rolls around. Yep, Grossman's straddling Darling Sammy on the floor, throttling the dear boy's remarkably healthy neck just as the rabbit's foot gets booted over to Sammy's side during the course of the separate fray between Wayne and Dean. Sam, scrabbling desperately for anything he can get his hands on to use as a weapon, latches onto the mangy thing, and in an instant, all of the good luck drains from Wayne to flow into him, and I think I've seen this one before, too. Sigh. Fucking Charmed. In any event, Our Intrepid Heroes regain the upper hand when Grossman and Wayne, through a series of fumble-footed mishaps of their own, basically knock themselves out by tripping over various items of Dean-smashed furniture and slamming their heads against the floor. By the way, in an indication of Sam's uncanny new luck, Wayne pointed the business end of Dean's pearl-handled revolver directly at Darling Sammy's remarkably healthy neck, only to have the thing jam on him. Just so you know.

With their adversaries thus temporarily dispatched, Sam and Dean repair in the Impala to a strip mall's parking lot, where Dean grinningly presses a bundle of just-bought lottery scratch tickets into Sam's hands. "That was my gun he was aiming at your head," Dean reasons, "and my gun don't jam, so that was a lucky break." "Scratch one!" he orders, passing Sam a penny. Sam reluctantly complies, all the while fretting that the foot "has to be cursed somehow," and wouldn't you know it? He's just won $1200. Dean lets loose with an enthusiastic yawp and smiles, "I don't know, man -- doesn't seem that cursed to me!" Just you wait, Dim Dean. Just you wait.

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