Repo Man

Episode Report Card
Demian: C- | 5 USERS: A-
The Life Of A Hardy Boy Is Always Intense
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Rattle, Rattle WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE THEN! For some pointless reason, we're reminded of the fact that there used to be a dark demonic force named Lilith, even though that particular demonette never once makes an appearance in the episode that follows, and then it's on to a series of clips detailing that ill-constructed wall Capital-D Death erected deep within what passes for Darling Sammy's brain before we hit the...

...Nonexistent STILL NOT GIVING A SHIT NOW! Once again, the NOW! got the week off for reasons that quickly become apparent when the words "Four Years Ago" emerge from the inky blackness to loiter at the bottom of the screen for a couple of moments. Just as quickly as they'd arrived, though, those words get obliterated by a cross-fade that tracks through a few low-hanging branches somewhere dark and remote until the camera lands on a nondescript station wagon that's just pulling up behind the much-missed Impala. And as the location card pops up to let us know we've landed in "Coeur d'Alene, Idaho," a casually-attired and extremely well-preserved fortysomething brunette disembarks from the station wagon to mount the rickety wooden steps leading up to a ramshackle cabin's front porch. Soon enough, Darling Sammy swings open the cabin door, and he greets his midnight visitor like so: "Miss Havelock! You shouldn't have come!" Miss Havelock brushes past Darling Sammy's remarkably broad and healthy frame to enter the cabin proper, whereupon she announces, "I needed to see it for myself." "After all that tracking?" she explains, suddenly seeming more than a little nervous for whatever mysterious reason. "All those hours we spent?" she continues, agitatedly wringing her hands. "I mean, it's one thing to study them in books..." she begins before trailing off into a tense silence, during which Darling Sammy sighs and frowns and rolls his impressive shoulders around until he finally and wordlessly agrees to escort his unexpected guest toward one of the dimly-lit cabin's back rooms.

Meanwhile, Dashing El Deano busies himself by ominously scraping a knife against a whetstone while the camera hops over to examine the bruised, bloodied, and demonically-enhanced gentleman now lashed tightly to a chair atop a hastily-scrawled Devil's Trap in the center of Our Intrepid Heroes' makeshift interrogation chamber. The demonically-enhanced gent's sporting a postal worker's uniform, and while he makes no effort to strain against the various ropes and straps that bind him, he does pant quickly and loudly through his nose like some sort of desperately diseased animal, which I guess is pretty creepy. Catching a whiff of Darling Sammy's midnight visitor, the demonically-enhanced gent sneers, "Do I smell menopause?" and maybe I've been watching way too much Drag Race lately, but that sounds like a line one of the less-creative queens would unleash upon a far-superior rival whilst daintily sipping on a smart Absolut cocktail in The Interior Illusions Lounge. And now that I've made that connection in my head, I have approximately zero hope of taking anything that follows seriously, so let's get through this quickly, shall we?

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