The Mentalists

Episode Report Card
Demian: A | 5 USERS: A-
The Hardy Boys Are Still Talking About Dead Amy

...SNOT ROCKET! "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Aw. He's so cute and bloodthirsty. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I'm pretty sure he's gonna be like this for a while... "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I'm just gonna let him writhe and keep going with the recap, okay? "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Good.

So, after the SNOT! is gone, the camera fades up to take in the low-slung fa├žade of a long-defunct minor-league baseball team's stadium. Soon enough, Dashing El Deano's crotch wanders into the frame, and we watch as Dashing El Deano himself fishes his cell phone from his jeans pocket to check for messages. There are none, of course, because after last week's stomach-churning end-of-episode drama, Darling Sammy is not speaking to him, and as Dean has no other friends, it follows that his voice mail box would naturally be empty. Lonely El Deano takes a moment to look Very Very Sad Indeed, then perks up when he spots a crapped-out sky-blue first-generation Dodge Challenger parked in one of the stadium's spots. He whips out one of his trusty lock-jiggering tools from his jacket pocket, and presently finds himself sliding into the wreck's driver seat to crack open the steering column and hotwire the car. The instant the wires connect, the radio blasts into life, and the wackily voiced DJ informs us, "You're listening to The Morning Chaos with me, Bananas Foster." "The hell I am, asshat," Dean grumbles, and he's about to switch stations when the eminent Mr. Foster swings into his program's daily "News Of The Weird" segment. Today's top story? "Two very odd murders" in Lily Dale, New York, a hamlet the eminent Mr. Foster assures us is "the most psychic town in America." That's all Dashing El Deano needs to hear, of course, and he swings out of the parking lot to motor on up to...

...Lily Dale. Somewhere on the road from Raleigh, Our Intrepid Hero stopped long enough to don his FBI drag, and we rejoin Dapper El Deano just in time to watch as he LIES his way past the officers guarding the pre-credits crime scene to poke about the late psychic's parlor. He casually wanders around the room until he reaches the late psychic's chair, at which point he dons a pair of gloves and gets down on his knees for a closer examination, and he easily finds a couple of tricks of the psychic trade, like the barely hidden switch on the chair's arm that triggers the billowing curtains and the knee-operated knob beneath the tabletop that produces all those sharp raps. "Oh, Spirits of the Further," he jokingly intones, "am I going to win the Powerball?" One Dean-activated rap later, and he gleefully shouts out, "I'm gonna be rich!" Alas, there is no one there to appreciate his humor. Awwwwwww.

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