The Girl Next Door

Episode Report Card
Demian: D | 7 USERS: B
It's Like The Hardy Boys Aren't Even Trying Anymore

Over at the "Whitefish Gas & Sip," Sam hustles his basket of goodies up to the checkout counter, where he spots an ominous headline on the top of that afternoon's Bozeman Times. "ICE PICK KILLER STRIKES AGAIN," the headline screams. "Victim's fatal wounds 'signature' of killer," the subhead assures us. Sam thinks about it for a second, then throws the paper in with the rest of his purchases, passing the clerk a credit card issued to "Lemmy Kilmister by way of payment. The clerk, clearly as much of a Motörhead fan as I am, immediately swipes the card for authorization, in the process...

...triggering a transaction alert at some random customer service center somewhere! DUN! And I can't believe we've reached the point where a transaction alert at some random customer service center is eliciting a DUN! from me. The customer service representative attached to the computer displaying the alert immediately dials Leviathan Edgar on his cell to inform him of the Winchesters' current apparent whereabouts. Leviathan Edgar rather snottily sends the customer service representative off to slaughter Our Intrepid Heroes, and wave goodbye to Leviathan Edgar, kids, 'cause that's the last we'll be seeing of him this week. Though it would be remiss of me were I not to report at this juncture that Leviathan Edgar's face and body bear no signs of their spectacular run-in with that junker back at The Emporium, so there's yet ANOTHER reason to write off this season's first two episodes entirely, and fuck my life.

Back inside that ridiculously scenic rustic homestead, Dean and Sam blather about The Uncertain State Of Poor Darling Sammy's Fragile Little Mind -- again, SOME MORE -- until even Dean decides he's had enough of this lame-ass bullshit and falls into a Coma Of Boredom as well. This allows Sam some time to peruse his copy of that afternoon's Bozeman Times, and from what I can see of the article, it would appear that the corpse of a 35-year-old smack addict named Steve Thomason has been found in "Livingston Park," much to the dismay of a local resident, whom the paper quotes as stating, "I'm afraid to go outside my house, and not just because I'm allergic to the sun." Sad, isn't it, that I am now far more interested in learning more about that extremely photosensitive Livingston local than I am in watching the rest of this episode? Sigh. In any event, Sam settles back in his chair to furrow his mighty brow, which is our cue to get bitch-slapped straight into this evening's first...

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