Supernatural
Slumber Party

Episode Report Card
Tippi Blevins: C | 174 USERS: C+
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Monkeys Fly Out of the Hardy Boys' Butts

Sam reminds us of how the hub's table lit up when the angels fell. "Each light was where a cluster of angels fell," he says. "I was thinking maybe there's some way to hotwire this, make it track angels." Good luck with that, since the table is basically a giant Lite-Brite with bulbs they'd have to move by hand. "This was your idea?" Dean scoffs. "Do you see anyone else in here?" Sam asks. Now, see, normally Dean wouldn't be surprised that his brother came up with a tech-based way to help out. Sam's usually the one fiddling with the computer, after all. But to remind us that Ezekiel is taking up residence in Sam's noggin, he has to act like it's weird for Sam to think of stuff like this.

Sam shows Dean where the wires from the table end up, which is inside a heretofore-unseen computer room somewhere beneath the hub. "This is a computer?" Dean gawks. "It was, in 1951 when it was installed," Sam says. By 1951 standards, it's a pretty compact little thing, no bigger than a couple of refrigerators. Sam notes that it's not plugged into anything, which he finds weird since something is definitely powering it. It's the ghost of Nikola Tesla! Dean grabs a screwdriver and struggles to pry open a panel. The panel gives way suddenly and sends Dean stumbling backwards into a nearby shelf, tipping over a jar of what looks like leftover goo from those gross turducken sandwiches a couple seasons back. They don't notice the jar and instead turn their focus to the computer's innards. It's full of whizzbangs and doohickeys, as one would expect from a computer constructed in the 1950s. "Does it come with a manual?" Dean asks. "There's nothing in the archives," Sam says, "and I obviously couldn't find anything like it online." The jar of goo bubbles along in secret. "I think I know someone who could help us," Dean says. After he and Sam exit the room to call for backup, the glass stopper on the jar pops loose, allowing the goo to piddle onto the floor. Strands of goo spread up onto the wall. Note so self: When containing evil goo in jar, make sure said jar has secure closure.

Back to the past, before colors were invented. Everyone sits down with the Wicked Witch at a table like it's Thanksgiving with the fam. "So, what do you have to say for yourself?" Jenkins asks the witch. "Nothing," Dorothy answers for her. "I cut out her tongue." She says she's "bound" the witch, but notes that it won't last. You'd think the knowledge of this would impel these people to hurry up and make other arrangements, but you'd be wrong! Haggerty would rather use this precious time to marvel at how women can sometimes accomplish things. "You captured her all by yourself," he says to Dorothy, in the tone one might use to talk to a child who's just ridden her first big-kid bicycle. The tone is not lost on Dorothy: "Yes, and despite all my lady parts, I managed to capture the Wicked Witch." Haggerty makes an impressed face. Someone needs to punch him in it. Jenkins starts to fanboy about her dad's writing, but this just irritates her. Plus, they kind of have more important matters to discuss. "Now, I have tried cutting off her head," Dotty says, "burning her, dousing her with holy water... all she did was laugh!" The whole time, the witch is sitting there looking pretty pleased with herself, and secretly using her gross fingernails to saw through her bonds. "Nothing I know of can kill her," Dotty goes on. Has she tried dropping a house on her? Because that worked pretty well on that other witch. "I was hoping you stiffs have a way to kill someone from Oz." Jenkins feels quite sure they must have a way to kill her, so he and Haggerty hit the books.

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