The Born-Again Identity

Episode Report Card
Demian: D+ | 5 USERS: A+
Wake Up, Little Hardy Boys

...back inside The Nuthouse to find Marcus The Downright Inhospitable Orderly wheeling Batshit Sammy into the asylum's harshly overlit electroshock therapy suite, where he quickly makes clear his intent to fry what little is left of Batshit Sammy's brain right out of the latter's freakish Cro-Magnon skull, for Marcus The Downright Inhospitable Orderly has in fact become Marcus The Demonically-Enhanced Orderly, and DUN!

Meanwhile, out on the lawn, Dashing El Deano and My Miserable Baboo bicker about plot developments that were already ancient a thousand years ago until Dashing El Deano reaches into the trunk of this week's crapped-out piece of automotive trash to present Castiel with his moldy and bloodstained trench coat. Um. Thanks?

Nuthouse. What little is left of Batshit Sammy's brain sizzles and zots deep within that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of his until My Badass Baboo flutters on in to smite Marcus The Demonically-Enhanced Orderly. You know, just as we all knew he would, despite his little temper tantrum out there on the asylum lawn, so whatever to those two little scenes I thankfully ignored. By the way, Castiel's sporting the moldy and bloodstained trench coat Dashing El Deano so carefully and conscientiously lugged around for him the entire season, so I guess that means they kissed and made up. Off screen, of course, because this show sucks, but what else is new? And when the smiting is done, My Compunctious Baboo apologizes for breaking what little was left of Batshit Sammy's brain a year ago before pressing a couple of angelically magical fingers against Batshit Sammy's forehead. For whatever reason, Castiel's healing touch has absolutely no effect -- even the accident-induced scabs on Batshit Sammy's face remain stubbornly in place -- and we enter this evening's final CHOMP!-less commercial break, uh, terribly concerned over Batshit Sammy's well-being? Deeply worried this means Batshit Sammy will never be the same again? Certain they'll pull something out of their collective ass at the last minute in order to get Our Intrepid Heroes back on the road again in time for next week's wacky hijinks? Not particularly caring what the hell happens over the course of the next three and a half minutes? Yeah, that's it -- that last one.

Nuthouse. Aftermath. And let's wrap this up, shall we? We return to find Lucifer reading to Batshit Sammy from The Three Little Pigs while Dashing El Deano and My Sweet Baboo stand off to one side -- the latter still wrapped in that damn mangy trench coat, like, Dean couldn't have at least tried to have the goddamned thing dry-cleaned? Christ on a stick, that's disgusting.

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