Episode Report Card
Demian: D | 5 USERS: A
The Hardy Boys Waste An Hour Of Our Lives

Moments later, the Impala's photogenically tearing up a length of foggy backwoods blacktop somewhere remote while the boys confer with Bobby via cell. Neither Sam nor Dean can figure out why Pestilence is "dealing up soft-serve like swine flu when he's got the Croatoan virus up his sleeve," but Bobby gripes that that's not important right now, because what is important is the fact that Pestilence has hit at least four towns since he surfaced last week, and Our Intrepid Heroes "are still eating his dust." Or, you know, his mucus trail. Your choice. "I'll go with the mucus! Whee!" That doesn't surprise me in the least, you adorably sick little lizard. "Hee!" Anyway, as there's yet no discernable pattern to Pestilence's wanderings, Bobby suggests the boys just keep heading east. "East?" the two blurt in disbelieving unison before Dean points out, "We're in west Nevada -- 'east' is practically all there is." Bobby rather unhelpfully replies, "Well, you better get to driving!" and rings off, leaving Sam and Dean to grumble at each other until...Crossroads Boss Crowley magically materializes in Metallicar's back seat! DUN! Dean spins the car into a squealing, multiple-lane-hogging halt as Deluxe Action Sammy With Super-Special Glow-In-The-Dark Guest-Star Stabby-Hands whips out The Knife That Can Kill Anything Except When It Usually Can't and rams it into...the Impala's vinyl seat cushions! D'OH! "He's gone!" Deluxe Action Sammy With Super-Special Glow-In-The-Dark Guest-Star Missing Hands pants. Oh, but not for long, of course, for no sooner has Sammy blurted that out than Crossroads Boss Crowley raps at the passenger-side window to offer, "Fancy a fag and a chat?" "Homophobe!" shrieks Raoul, and Raoul, sweetie, Crowley's English. "So?!" So when he says "fag," he means "cigarette." "Oh! Oh! My profuse apologies for the silly misunderstanding, I'm sure!" Not to worry, friend of friends. Now, shall we join the fellows as they yammer away at each other for the next fifteen minutes out there in the middle of nowhere? "Why not!?" Why not, indeed.

Our Irritated Heroes angrily disembark and advance upon Crowley with murder in their eyes, for they're still pissed off at him over that whole Fucking Colt thing that went down at Crowley's instigation over in Carthage, Missouri, just before Thanksgiving. Crowley insists -- perhaps honestly -- that he thought The Fucking Colt would actually kill Lucifer before he launches himself into an amusingly furious little rant regarding how much trouble he's been in with Lucifer's minions as of late, taking care to note with proper amounts of outrage that said minions "ate [his] tailor." Hee. It's all in Mark Sheppard's delivery, which is of course nearly flawless, but I suppose we should focus on what's actually relevant to the episode at hand. "Yes, please!" So, after calming himself a little bit, he informs the boys that if they want to track down Pestilence, he can help them. Are Sam and Dean interested? But of course. They're intrigued, even, so the three pile back into the Impala and drive off to...

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