Good God, Y'All

Episode Report Card
Demian: B- | 1 USERS: B+
The Hardy Boys Gotta Have a Friend in Jesus
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Rattle Rattle ANOTHER ROAD SO FAR! Which, aside from reminding us that people named "Rufus" and "Ellen" and "Jo" once existed on this show, merely hits the major plot points from last week's premiere, so aside from noting they've recycled Foreigner's "Long, Long Way From Home" to provide the musical accompaniment, we'll be skipping ahead to the...

...Slashy, Slashy NOW! You should probably know that this season's NOW! jitters around all over the screen before settling into the center to advance menacingly upon the audience, which is a change from previous years. And once the NOW! has vanished into the black, the camera fades up on the depressing image of Bobby slouched down in a wheelchair, silently staring out the window of the private room he managed to score for himself in last week's hospital. The camera pulls back to reveal Darling Sammy spying on the apparent cripple from the hallway, and I'd be remiss were I not to note that Darling Sammy's hair is very sad, indeed. Probably because Darling Sammy hasn't washed it in over a week, from the looks of things. Gross. Fortunately, Dashing El Deano and his ever-immaculate coif slide into the frame at this point to kick the episode into gear, for I've suddenly found myself fighting the urge to hurl shampoo bottles at the television screen in the entirely unrealistic hope one of them will somehow magically make it through to the other side, and that's just silly. "We gotta cheer him up," Dean determines, noting that Bobby hasn't spoken a word in the last three days. "Maybe I'll give him a back rub." Bamp-chicka-wow-wow. "Dean!" Sam chides, primly pissy indignation passing across his face. "Well, what, then?" Dean shoots back. Sam shakes his head and sighs that they might just have to reconcile themselves with the idea that Bobby will never walk again, and Sam, Sam, Sam. You know I love you to bits, but you might want to hold off on making remarks like that when Bobby is sitting right there in front of you. He's crippled, for Christ's sake, not deaf.

In any event, College Boy finally notices the humongous manila envelope stamped "X-RAY" that Dean's had clutched in his hand since his entrance, and wonders what gives. "Went down to radiology and got some glamour shots," Dean confides, sliding the film out of the envelope and submitting it for Sammy's inspection. "Let's just say the doctors are baffled," Dean adds, and it's no wonder they are, given what we can see on the X-ray once Sam's held it up to the light: Castiel's Enochian sigil, neatly etched into every last one of Dean's ribs, with some additional symbols trailing down his sternum. Kick ass. Incidentally, the lovely and talented PodPerson pointed out on the forum boards that the symbols carved into Dean's bones actually correspond to John Dee's honest-to-God Enochian alphabet, so feel free to knock yourself out trying to translate it. "Holy crap!" Sam blurts once he's gotten a good look at the cryptic scribbling his brother's now lugging around inside his chest, leading Dean to point out that Sam's lugging the same thing around himself (albeit in a significantly larger font size, no doubt). Before they can begin puzzling their way through it, though, Sam's cell chirps, and he's quite surprised to find My Sweet Baboo on the other end of the line. An obviously befuddled Sam provides Castiel with their current location -- "St. Martin's Hospital" -- and is confused even further when Castiel immediately hangs up on him. Barely have Our Intrepid Heroes had the time to shoot mildly irritated side-eyes at each other, though, when My Sweet Baboo strides up to greet them. "Cell phone?" Dean teases. "Really? Since when do angels need to reach out and touch someone?" Um. Not going anywhere near that one, Dean. Nope. "You're hidden from angels now," Castiel exasperatedly reminds his dimwit of a boyfriend, and he's about to launch himself into yet another explanation of how Enochian sigils work when Bobby quite unexpectedly bellows, "Enough foreplay!" Hee. "Get over here and lay your damn hands on," Bobby orders, and I'll be ignoring how absolutely filthy that sounds as well because alas, Castiel can't comply with Bobby's wishes -- he's "cut off from Heaven," you see, and therefore also cut off from "much of Heaven's power." So, while he can still flit from place to place in the bat of an eye, apparently, and while he can also reach into his boyfriend's chest to carve indecipherable messages onto his bones in various made-up languages, Castiel cannot, unfortunately, mend Bobby's squashy legs. Well, it's unfortunate for Bobby. As far as the plot's concerned, Castiel's sudden inability to heal is quite fortunate indeed, don't you think?

"You're telling me you lost your mojo just in time to get me stuck in this trap the rest of my life?" Bobby seethes. Castiel apologetically confirms this. "Shove it up your ass," Bobby growls, spinning his chair around to show Castiel his back, and I must have missed the FCC memo that cleared that phrase for use on broadcast television, but then again, I'm so old, I can remember when Alexis calling Krystle a bitch was considered a shocking breach of primetime etiquette, so I'll just carefully unclutch my pearls and follow along as Castiel gets all up in Dean's face to warn they don't have much time together right before he proceeds to crap all over Dean's asinine plan to kill Lucifer themselves. "Thanks for the support," Dean sarcastically eyebrows, but he clams up quickly enough when My Sweet Baboo announces he has a plan of his own. "There is someone besides Michael," Castiel confides, "strong enough to take on Lucifer -- strong enough to stop The Apocalypse." Here My Sweet Baboo pauses for effect, because My Sweet Baboo is a huge fucking drama queen, and I'm sure the silence would drag on and on and on and on and on were Darling Sammy and his sad hair and his unreasonably lengthy sideburns not compelled by the script to prompt, "Who?" "The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane!" Castiel breathlessly explains, getting a little wild-eyed with the fervor and the zeal and whatnot. "The one who began everything!" he continues, now turning those wild eyes on his boyfriend to impress upon Dean the seriousness with which he's speaking. "God!" Castiel whispers, as Sam squints at him like he's sprouted another head. "I'm gonna find God!" The camera tracks in on My Sweet Baboo's passionately feverish and somewhat terrifying expression for a moment until...

...SPLAT! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon with absolutely deranged amounts of glee, so excited still is he that Kripke went with his exploding-corpse idea for this season's title card, and I was wondering how long it would take for you to make your presence known, my scaly friend. "Oh, I do apologize, I'm sure!" Raoul gasps, more than a little out of breath after his strenuous exertions atop his overstuffed armchair. "But that was boring! When are they going to kill someone?!" If I'm not mistaken, I believe that's coming up soon. "Then why are you tarrying at the title card, you beastly little man!? I need wanton acts of unrepentant violence, and I need them now!" Well, I thought you'd like to bask in the gl.... "NOW!" Okay! Okay! Yeesh.

"'God'?" Dean incredulously repeats, dragging Castiel into Bobby's

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