Hello, Cruel World

Episode Report Card
Demian: B+ | 3 USERS: A
Did You Know The Hardy Boys Are Utterly Insane?

Back in Stockville, the bored little nightmare of a preadolescent horror channel-surfs until she lands on a rerun of the painfully named Doctor Sexy, M.D. "EEEEEEEP!" Poor Raoul. In any event, the bored little nightmare of a preadolescent horror listens intently as one of the show's characters bitches, "I'm sorry, doctor -- I forgot being head surgeon means you cut into whatever body you want and take out whatever organ pleases you, without any paperwork whatsoever!" The bored little nightmare of a preadolescent horror gets An Idea, and smiles. "EEEEEEEP!"

Up in the Emporium, Bobby and Dean watch silently from the kitchen as Sam entertains himself by repeatedly "field-stripping his weapon" over in the study, and no, they are not using "field-stripping his weapon" as an amusing euphemism for something filthy, though somebody somewhere probably should. Dean surreptitiously slips a hand into Sam's jacket pocket and retrieves his brother's cell phone to activate the thing's GPS on the extremely likely chance Sam "decides to fly the cuckoo's nest" at some point during this evening's festivities, and then Dean and Bobby settle in to chat at each other -- AGAIN, SOME MORE -- this time regarding Dean's supposedly delicate state of mind, and long story short, Dean LIES that he's fine. Bobby recognizes that particular piece of bullshit for what it is, but we don't have time to deal with this tedious crap at the moment, because something nefarious is a-brewing down at...

...Stockville High School. A bevy of nubile young scantily-clad male swim-team members enters the boys' locker room to find two of their compatriots already waiting for them. "Where were you guys?" one of the bevy asks. "I guess we got here early," the first of the two too-casually shrugs while tossing his companion A Look. "Heard something weird come from the showers," the first of the two goes on to note as his companion crosses to close and bolt the locker-room door. "You're gonna get in trouble," one of the bevy warns. The companion spins back from the door to face the others, and as a thin line of bitterly black demonic foulness trickles down from his left eye, the companion smirks, "I probably am!" before latching on to one of the bevy and slamming his head against the cinder-block wall. "VIOLENCE!" howls Raoul, momentarily recovering from his horror-induced paralysis to writhe about atop his overstuffed armchair with delight. "WANTON ACTS OF UNREPENTANT DOUCHEBAG-SLAUGHTERING VIOLENCE AND GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Now, Raoul -- how do you know they're douchebags? "THEY'RE ON THE SWIM TEAM, AREN'T THEY?!" Um, yes, but wh... "DEATH! DEATH TO THE DOUCHEBAGS ON THE SWIM TEAM!" I think Raoul has issues. In any event, the Leviathanically-enhanced duo makes quick work of the remaining members of the bevy, and we happily sail into this evening's first METAL TEETH CHOMP! astride a bursting spurt of bright-red arterial spray. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!"

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