Supernatural

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Demian: F | 84 USERS: D
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It's The Hardy Boys' Party

Upstairs, meanwhile, Dick's EMF shoots off the scale as the temperature drops eleven degrees. Spruce's camera fritzes out briefly once again before snapping into focus on a dapperly dressed gentleman who looks like he just stepped off the set of Mad Men. "Look, buddy," the apparition begins as the shot flips from Spruce's camera to Maggie's and back again, "I'm sorry -- that's it. I'm telling you it's all the money I have." Barely has the ghost gotten out that last word when the loud report of gunfire echoes through the room, and Don Draper's chest explodes. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!?" Raoul perks to wonder, as he'd fallen into yet another brief Coma Of Boredom during that last scene. Sorry, Raoul. No gore, because the goddamn fucking camerawork's so fucking jumpy that nothing comes into focus, EVER. "I waited thirteen and a half minutes for nothing?!" I'm afraid so, my scaly friend. "Those BASTARDS!" Raoul rages, quite understandably, if you ask me. "Thanks!" Don't mention it. "I won't!" Oy. In any event, Dead Don buzzes and blinks and flickers out long before his aerated and spectral torso's had a chance to hit the floor, and Dick and Maggie would allow their lower jaws to unhinge down into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!, I'm sure, had The Kripkeeper not jettisoned the blameless METAL TEETH CHOMP! in favor of a tacky GHOSTFACERS logo for this evening's presentation. God, I hate this show.

Back from the break, there's more jumpy, hand-held bullshit downstairs as Sam and Dean invade Dickless's operations base to lay a little exposition on his whiny ass while Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett's left to film the entire exchange in silence with the seven hundred little cameras he's attached to every available part of his body. I think. So not rewinding to make sure, because Raoul's about to hurl again. "[Buuurrrrrap!]" "Oh, my! I do apologize!" Raoul shrieks, patting one perfectly honed paw against his chest. "That was most indelicate of me, I'm sure!" Not a problem. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah: College Boy whips out a sheaf of research he's done on The Morton House, and there have been dozens of disappearances tied to the place over the last half-century, all of them occurring on February 29th, and most of them involving idiot assholes like the GHOSTFACERS here who decided to spend various February 29ths at the place on dares, or whatever. As Dean attempts to herd Dickless and Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett out of there before they become the manse's next victims, however, Dick arrives on the main floor with his part of the posse to babble excitedly about what just transpired in the bedroom above. Maggie replays the footage on one of their laptops, and Our Intrepid Heroes quickly step off to the side for a private conversation that's quite conveniently subtitled. "Think we're off on this?" Sam whispers. "That was just a death echo." "Yeah," Dean agrees, "but what's it doing here? Did anybody get shot here?" "Not that I could find," Sam shrugs in the deep shadows at the far end of the room. Spruce, who's apparently endowed with bionic hearing, loudly wonders what a death echo is, and Dean explains before again attempting to herd the assembled asshole idiots (plus Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett) out of the house before midnight hits. Generalized babbling ensues about the equipment they'll be leaving behind and whatnot until Dickless suddenly realizes Poor Little Fey Doomed Corbett's gone missing. D'OH!

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Supernatural

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