"No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot."

Bad day? No kidding! This episode is a whole lot of fun.

"Look, Dad's gone now, and we have to carry out his legacy. And that means hunting down as many evil sons of bitches as we possibly can."

Meh. I was so hopeful last episode that the voiceover wasn't going to stay with us.

Then.

"Did I die? Did you sell your soul for me? How long'd you get?" Sam tremulously asks, and Dean confesses that the terms of his contract with the Crossroads Demon leave him with just one year on the clock and counting down. Upset, Sam protests that he shouldn't have done that. "Guess I've got to save your ass for a change."

A Glossy Blonde Chick saves Sam from death by three demons by means of a nifty demon-killing dagger she just happens to possess. Sam wonders what kind of blade can kill a demon, Bobby confesses that he's never heard of any such thing, and Dean mockingly wonders who the girl was.

Sam asks Ellen if she's ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker, and Ellen replies that Gordon is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. Gordon tells Dean that a demon told him of soldiers being readied for a coming war. "Humans, fighting on hell's side." He adds that he knows all about Sam's visions. "Your brother's fair game." And he certainly does his best, in the clips we are shown, to make good on that threat. Sam turns the tables by tipping off the police, and Gordon is arrested.

"Tell me who you are!" Sam yells at the Glossy Blonde Chick, who responds by showing him her demon-black eyes, rather than giving her name. Sam is alarmed, and surprised by her claim that she wants to help him, wondering what a demon could possibly have to offer.

"I can help you save your brother," Glossy Blonde bitchily perks.

Now.

A jail someplace. Visiting hours. A man we will shortly learn is named Kubrick patiently makes his way past security before finally getting in to see the man he has come to visit. "It's true," he announces by way of hello. "Devil's gate was opened in Wyoming."

Opposite, Gordon Walker lifts his head, absorbing this news. Heh. Second season in a row Gordon's popped up in the third episode. It's becoming a trend.

"Big," Kubrick continues, holding up a map with Samuel Colt's immense devil's trap marked on it. "St Helena's big. There's no solid fix on how many demons got out, but it's in the hundreds, an army."
"Sam Winchester was there. Wasn't he." It isn't a question. Gordon made up his mind about Sam a long time ago.

"Talked to a guy who knows a guy who knows Bobby Singer," Kubrick begins. Third hand evidence – this is how rumours spread. It's like Chinese whispers. "Yeah, looks like the Winchesters were at ground zero when the gate was popped. But Singer said they went in there to stop it."

Good old Bobby, trying hard to keep the truth alive in a community of paranoid sociopaths. Gordon immediately dismisses his evidence, though, simply stating that Bobby's edge isn't what it used to be and that Sam could have him believing anything by now. I've been wondering for a while now, since Born Under A Bad Sign, if Bobby's loyalty to the Winchester boys would have repercussions for him within the hunting community, and it seems that it is. It's typical Gordon that he believes what he wants to believe and dismisses any evidence to the contrary. But, from what we've seen of them, the rest of the hunting community seem equally likely to be swayed in favour of the negative rather than the positive.

"Listen, Gordon. As far as talk goes, Sam Winchester checks out. He's a hunter, that's all," says Kubrick, and I'm pleased he seems to have at least this much of an open mind, even if it doesn't last much longer.

"That's all?" Gordon gives that humourless little madman chuckle of his. "Kubrick, I'm not even sure he's human." Kubrick reacts, disbelieving. "Think I'm crazy?" Gordon presses, with all the calm intensity of the true believer. "I told you there was a war coming. Six months ago. Take a look around. It's here. Now I'm telling you this boy is a part of it. Track him down, Kubrick. You'll come to see it, too. Sam Winchester must die."

Titles.

Impala. Night. There's a lot of shouting. "Because 'demon', that's why," Dean loudly states his case. Dean tends to get loud when he's uneasy, and this conversation is making him very uneasy. "I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick's a demon, you go for the holy water, you don't chat!"

So…after being so deliberately enigmatic for the last two episodes, Glossy Blonde Chick gave Sam her name off-screen? Meh. I'm disappointed now. Not that there's anything special about the name, but it did seem like she was building up her air of anonymous mystique deliberately, and this random dropping of her name kind of blows a massive hole through that. I like that Sam has told Dean about his encounter with her, though, even if he has only given his brother the edited highlights. Severely edited, as the conversation that follows will reveal.

"No one was chatting, Dean!" Sam indignantly defends.
"Oh yeah, then why didn't you send her ass back to hell?" Dean demands.
"Because…because she said she might be able to help us out," Sam admits, defensive, because he knows Dean isn't going to like this. He's not wrong.
"Oh really? How?" Dean wants to know. Sam squirms. "No, really, Sam. How can she possibly help us?"
"She told me she could help you, okay?" Sam finally confesses.

A moment of silence follows. Sam is still defensive, can see all the ways in which this is wrong but isn't going to apologise for entertaining the possibility, while Dean processes, works out just what kind of help Sam would feel he needs, and reacts.

"Help you out of the Crossroads deal," Sam elaborates, seeing the startled look on his brother's face.

Dean can't believe he's hearing this. Not that it should come as any big surprise to him that Sam is still looking for a way to get him out of that deal, but he was very happy to live in denial in the last episode, and this brings the issue right back out into the open. "What is wrong with you? She's lying! You've got to know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is, it's me." Fangirls are delighted to hear him acknowledge that fact. Sam looks mulish and doesn't respond. "What else did she say?" Dean asks. Silence. Sam sulks. "Dude?" Dean sharply insists.

"Nothing," Sam sullenly says at last, which is a big fat lie. "Nothing! Okay? Look, I'm not an idiot, Dean. I'm not talking about trusting her! I'm talking about using her. I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy. We don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell – we don't even know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it."

There is just so much going on in this argument, so much that Sam is and isn't communicating, using what he is willing to talk about as a diversion from what he isn't. His argument in favour of trying to get information out of Ruby regarding the demonic war is valid, albeit fraught with danger and difficulty. But he's saying it to distract Dean from the more personally pressing issues of a) whether or not Sam really believes Ruby can help break Dean's deal, and how far he's willing to trust her on the subject, and b) the fact that Ruby has made Sam aware of disturbing new information about the boys' mother, and he is now lying about it to Dean.

From Dean's point of view, the fact that Sam is only giving him half the story has to make it all sound even more suspicious than it would anyway. He doesn't know that Ruby has a special interest in Sam because of what the Yellow-Eyed Demon had planned for him, and that Sam's specialness is the reason she is using Dean's life to try to bribe Sam into cooperation. All he knows is that this random demon has approached Sam and offered to help save his life for no good reason at all, and you can see why that would set his spider senses a-tingling. Not that knowing the full story would reassure him at all.

There's another moment of silence. Dean shoots a few sideways glances at Sam. "You're okay, right, you're feeling okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Sam seethes. "Why are you always asking me that?"

Always? What always? Aside from that moment in The Magnificent Seven when Sam caught Dean watching him – and that was ambiguous: intense, but not carrying any indication of concern – this is the first hint we've had of Dean keeping tabs on his brother, the first suggestion that the Yellow-Eyed Demon's taunting about Sam not being brought back 100% Sam might be niggling at Dean a little. There's a lot that Sam isn't telling Dean right now. But those insinuations of the Yellow-Eyed Demon are another well-kept secret, one that Dean is keeping from Sam.

A ringing cellphone interrupts the argument before it can escalate any further. Both brothers check their cells, but neither is the culprit. Then Dean realises something and tells Sam to check the glove compartment. It's John's phone. Sam is, understandably, startled at the notion that their father's phone would be ringing this many months after his death.

"I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call," Dean gruffly explains. And that kind of kills me just a little, because it seems certain that most if not all of John's contacts would have learned of his death by now, so the chances of any of them trying to contact him are pretty remote (although not impossible, as this call proves. Plus: plot device). So the thought of Dean keeping that phone active all this time just in case and because it was his dad's kind of tugs at the heartstrings a little.

Bemused, Sam answers the phone, and fumbles his way through a conversation with whoever is on the other end. "Hello? Yes, this is Edgar Cayce." With a hilarious little shrug and wrinkle of the nose aimed at Dean, all what the heck? "No. No, no, no, don't call the police. I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. I, uh, I don't have my book in front of me." He signals to Dean that he needs pen and paper, which his brother duly provides. "Do you have the address, so I can…? Got it."

"Did Dad ever tell you he kept a container in a storage place? Outside of Buffalo?" Sam asks Dean, having finished the call and taken down the details. Dean's nonplussed reaction is answer in itself. It seems someone has just broken into this container, which gives the boys a new destination. Makes me wonder just where they were headed before this call – did they have somewhere planned, or were they just driving aimlessly?

Someplace else. An RV is parked up in a lay-by at the side of a road. Amazingly enough for this show, the road is actually quite busy. The lay-by is quiet enough, though, just this one RV and a car parked alongside it.

Inside, Kubrick cleans his gun, while another man, a fellow hunter by the name of Creely that he seems to have enlisted as backup, sifts through assorted other weapons, being nosy.

"So, you got no hard evidence on this Winchester guy?" Creely notes. "You're just working off Gordon's instincts."

Kubrick asks if Creely has ever worked with Gordon. He hasn't, which stands to reason, since we have always been told that Gordon works alone, but has heard that he's good. Kubrick firmly states that Gordon is the best and has saved his ass more times than he can count. So…they've worked together then? How does that fit with Gordon's lone ranger credo? Maybe Kubrick is one of the few exceptions. Anyway, Kubrick is completely willing to hunt Sam based only on Gordon's say so, and in the face of all testimony in Sam's favour.

Rather than argue against targeting a human and fellow hunter based on Gordon's judgment alone, Creely points out that Sam will be covering his tracks and thus hard to find. Kubrick calmly announces that the last trace he's come up with puts Sam in Nebraska three weeks ago.

The Magnificent Seven was set in Nebraska, so presumably that's where this lead of Kubrick's has come from. The Kids Are Alright was Indiana. So, for those of us trying hard to follow the timeline along at home, unless there have been other Nebraska jobs since, that means that it is just three weeks since the season premiere, and around a month since the devil's gate opened. By my calculations that puts us around about the end of May.

Poking around the RV, Creely points out that this isn't exactly a fresh lead, but Kubrick scoffs that Sam isn't invisible, that some hunter out there will know something. I suppose it would be easier for a hunter to track the boys, using the hunting network, than someone like Henrickson, working from the outside. Kubrick's plan is to start calling all their contacts and just wait for the one break they need.

Creely has taken a little Miracle Eyes Jesus out of a cupboard and is examining it as if he's never seen such an optical illusion before. Kubrick takes it off him and puts it back in the cupboard. "Don't play with my Jesus," he says with a perfectly straight face.

Hunters hunt for all kinds of reasons, usually intensely personal. Kubrick, as we will learn in this episode, is a religious nut. He believes he is doing God's work.

Storage facility. Dean and Sam take the elevator down to John's container. Dean is chuckling and sighing to himself, and Sam wonders why. "Just Dad, you know – him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely know him."
"Well," Sam points out. "We're about to learn something."

I love that the show never makes any excuses for John. He was what he was for a reason, and the boys are who they are because of it, and there are never any excuses for that. There is explanation and understanding, to a greater or lesser degree, but no excuses and no pulled punches. John was a very hard man, very screwed up and there is no getting away from that fact. It's got to be a healthy sign that Dean is so willing to admit that now, to talk about John as he truly was, warts and all, and love him in spite of his many flaws, rather than denying or excusing those flaws as he always tried to while his father was alive. Back then, it was part of his emotional defence, but he doesn't need those particular defences any more, and time and healing seem to be giving him a much more rounded view of his father. For Sam, it has been a reverse process, in effect; the anger and resentment toward his father he nurtured for so many years has given way to understanding.

Dean unlocks John's container. Where'd they get the key? Then the boys open the door and scan the inside of the container with a touch of the old flashlight-fu, without entering. I love that detail, that level of caution. John trained his sons well, and they know him well enough to be very wary here.

There is a large devil's trap painted on the floor just inside the entrance. "No demons allowed," Sam notes. There is also a sizeable puddle of blood near the entrance, with bloody footprints leading on into the interior. Dean's flashlight picks up a tripwire, which connects up to a shotgun carefully wedged on a nearby shelf and concealed within what looks like a ram's skull. Booby-trap. Heh. That's very John.

"Whoever broke in here got tacked," Sam observes.
"Dear old Dad," Dean snorts, still examining the evidence. "I got two sets of boot treads here. Looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him, looks like he kept walking."
"So what's the deal – Dad would do work here or something?" Sam wonders.
"Living the high life, as usual." Dean rolls his eyes, taking a closer look at the shotgun in the skull and shaking his head in amusement and fond nostalgia.

I love it. I love everything about this scene, as the brothers head deeper into the container, exploring its contents with wonder, and learning more about their ever-enigmatic father as they go. It's like a treasure trove, one that they are ready for now, able at last to remember their father without pain or rancour.

Dean finds a little trophy and shows it to Sam – it's Sam's division championship soccer trophy, 1995. "I can't believe he kept this!" he exclaims, surprised and delighted.
"It's about the closest you ever came to being a boy," says Dean.

That just kills me. In Bugs we learned that John gave Sam such a hard time for wanting to play soccer that he remembered it with great bitterness a whole decade later. And now we – and the boys – learn that John was proud enough of Sam's prowess at the sport to hang on to that trophy all these years, to squirrel it away like this, but couldn't let him know. Sam believed for all those years that his father was disappointed with him, because John was incapable of letting him see that he was proud. As if that sentiment was something to be ashamed of, as if letting his sons know he cared that much would make him appear weak, or that showing pride in Sam's accomplishment at something regular would detract from the emphasis laid on John's own training. That man was so impossibly screwed up, and he screwed his sons up right along with him. And now he's gone, and they are healing, and finding this secret stash of his is a big part of that process.

While Sam wallows in the memories stirred up by his trophy, Dean finds a treasure of his own. "Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade."

He looks and sounds so enormously proud, wallowing in his own memories every bit as much as Sam, and it kills me all over again. Sixth grade is how old, about 11? About a year younger than Sam would have been when he won that trophy. Sam at that age was looking outward at the world, wanting to be a part of it, and willing to defy John to achieve it. Dean, on the other hand – around about the immediate post-Striga period as this would have been, since he was 10/11 in the Something Wicked flashbacks – was looking inward, within the family, focused completely on being who his father wanted him to be, and drawing all his pride and satisfaction, and the parental approval he craved, from that. Still does even now. Playing soccer and winning a trophy may have been the closest Sam ever got to being a real boy – but Dean, it has always been clear, never even got that close, nor ever entertained the possibility of it. Their childhood experiences were so very different, just four years apart.



At the back of the container is a small antechamber, this one containing all kinds of armaments: landmines and grenades and all sorts. Dean notes that the thieves didn't take any of the weapons, so clearly knew what they were after.

Sam draws his attention to a collection of locked boxes on a shelf unit nearby. "See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are curse boxes."
"Curse boxes – those are meant to keep the evil mojo in, right, kind of like the Pandora deal?" Dean clarifies for us.
"Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object," Sam confirms.

Thanks for the exposition, boys. Dean exposits further that John's journal referred to any number of hexed items and fetishes, but that John left no notes as to where they ended up. Sam hypothesizes that this "must be his toxic waste dump."

But one of the boxes is missing. "Well, maybe they didn't open it," Dean hopefully suggests.

Apartment. "Come on, man. Let's open it," wheedles Thief#1, who we will later come to know as Grossman.
"Shut up about the damn box!" roars Thief#2, Wayne, who is rather more interested in the buckshot injury to his upper arm, to which he is anxiously pressing a very bloody towel.

Why is it that this show sometimes lays the blood and gore on thick, whereas other times there is none at all on display, despite the actual injuries involved being very similar? It is already clear, though, that this is on course to be the goriest season yet.

Wayne makes a huge fuss about how he's bleeding to death, and he does have a right to be disgruntled, since his friend seems to be so much more interested in the contraband than in finding any kind of medical help for him. Grossman really, really wants to open the box and see what's inside. "What, we should just hand it over to her?" he protests, our first real clue that these are just the hired grunts, although it was already apparent that they are hardly what you'd call criminal masterminds. "We took all the risk. Hell, Wayne, you got shot. All for a lousy few hundred bucks? We could make more selling whatever it is ourselves."

This is the trouble with subcontracting within the criminal fraternity, clearly. Can't trust anyone.

Grossman breaks the lock, and dramatic background music plays as he opens the box to reveal… "Huh?"

Heh. It's a rabbit's foot on a chain.

Wayne explodes with rage at the notion that he got shot for the sake of a rabbit's foot. He snatches it up…and eerie background music signals that something supernatural is afoot at the touch. "I'm gonna die for a damn rabbit's foot," he groans, while Grossman is astounded.

There's a bang at the door. It's a neighbour, Foster, come to complain about all the noise at 6am. He's distracted by the sight of Wayne and all the blood, however, and swiftly dispatches Grossman to his apartment to fetch the first aid kit and get some water boiling, explaining that he was an army medic in 'Nam. "I guess this is your lucky day," he chirpily tells his patient.

Outside. Sometime later, I'd guess. The Impala draws up alongside a parked car, and Dean covertly glances at the licence plate to confirm it's the one they are looking for: Connecticut 880. "Should have blacked out the plates before they parked in front of the security camera," he tsks. In another life, Dean would have made an awesome cop. They both would. I love that no big deal is made of how easily our boys have tracked the burglars down, that it's just a matter of course, all in a day's work. They are good at what they do, and the quiet efficiency with which they work now stands as an effective silent contrast to what happens later.

Inside. Wayne and Grossman are playing cards. Wayne, whose injured arm is now expertly bandaged, is absolutely wiping the deck with his partner, every single time. They are so engrossed in their game, not anticipating trouble of any kind, they don't notice the brothers Winchester picking the lock and sneaking into the apartment, closing in on them. Sam is on lock-picking duty today, Dean advancing ahead of him with gun at the ready, while Sam puts the lock-pick away and pulls out his own weapon.

"I can't lose!" Wayne realises. "I mean really. I can't lose. Maybe this thing really works! I tell you what, there is no way in hell we are handing it over to that stuck-up bitch."

"FREEZE!" Dean and Sam leap out, guns trained on the hapless thieves, bellowing commands not to move. Working in perfect harmony, a slick, well-oiled team. They really could be cops, which is what Wayne and Grossman instantly assume them to be.



"All right, give us the box," orders Dean. "And please tell me that you didn't –"
"Oh, they did," Sam realises, seeing the open box.
"You opened it!" Dean yells, furious, slamming Wayne against the wall. Wayne yells back asking if they are cops, not knowing what to make of this intrusion. "What was in the box?" Dean demands.

Wayne gestures at the rabbit's foot; then, while Dean is distracted, he shoves his attacker away, and Dean drops his gun, which goes off on impact with the floor. The bullet ricochets off the radiator, and shoots Sam's gun right out of his hand, bouncing thereafter off the ceiling fan, past Dean's head, and into a lamp that was just sitting there innocently minding its own business. The boys are suitably flabbergasted.

Fighting ensues. Grossman shoves Sam into Dean, who falls heavily and lands on the coffee table, which smashes to bits, sending the rabbit's foot flying. Sam is contrite and wastes time apologising to his brother, thus taking his eyes off their opponents, which allows Grossman time to rugby-tackle him to the floor and throw in a few hefty punches for good measure to keep him down. Dean sees his gun and scrambles for it, but Wayne gets there first and, as he raises the gun, manages to accidentally smack Dean in the face with it. Dean goes down like a skittle. The choreography of this fight is amazing. So slapstick and yet pulled off with such a light touch. Robert Singer directed this episode, and did an amazing job with it.

Grossman, meanwhile, wraps his hands around Sam's neck and starts to squeeze. Heh. Sam gets strangled yet again. Sam sees the rabbit's foot lying nearby and reaches out for it, although what good he expects it to do is beyond me, since he doesn't know what it is or does. What he really needs is leverage and a weapon. He manages to grab the rabbit's foot, though, and ominous background sound tells us that the something supernatural that happened to Wayne when he touched it has now happened to Sam.

Sam manages to break Grossman's hold on him and kicks, sending the man flying, hard. Sam yells to his brother that he's got the rabbit's foot, forgetting that there is another opponent in the room. He stands – and finds himself neck to muzzle with Dean's gun in Wayne's hand. Wayne is aiming at Sam's neck, rather than head, I feel I should point out, because, of course, Sam is a giant. Dean freezes, unable to intervene, and behind him Grossman picks up the other gun. Sam grimaces, expecting the worst, and rightly so, for Wayne pulls the trigger – but nothing happens. The gun jams. Dean promptly starts to rush at him, but before he can get there, Wayne trips over the remains of the coffee table, goes over backward, and stays down.

The brothers look at one another in amazement. Then Dean sees Grossman with Sam's gun and yells a warning to his brother. It isn't needed, for at that moment the bookshelf above Grossman's head collapses on top of him, knocking him out cold. The gun flies from his hand – straight into Sam's. Hee. The looks on their faces!

"That was a lucky break!" Dean disbelieves. "Is that a rabbit's foot?"
"I think it is," agrees a bemused Sam.



Biggerson's sizzling grill and bar. The Impala is parked outside. Dean returns to the car from a nearby convenience store carrying a small brown paper bag. In the Impala, Sam is flicking through John's journal, but can't find any reference to the rabbit's foot. Ignoring him, Dean pulls his purchase out of the bag – a handful of scratch cards. Sam sighs and rolls his eyes in protest.

"Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam," Dean insists by way of evidence, ever opportunistic. "So that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon, Sam. Scratch and win!"

Sam gives in and obediently starts scratching, all the while protesting that the rabbit's foot must be cursed somehow, or John wouldn't have locked it up. Dean is more interested in the $1,200 Sam just won on the scratch card, whooping with glee, and even Sam is fairly impressed. Heh. In their situation, that's a lot of money they don't have to steal or hustle people out of.

Apartment. Grossman and Wayne continue to be laid out cold on the floor. Wayne comes around first, clambers to his feet, and starts calling for Grossman to wake up. While so doing, he kicks an empty beer bottle, which rolls gently into the kitchen, and the camera follows it, so we know this is going to play a part in something very bad very shortly. Giving up on Grossman, Wayne stumbles into the kitchen, manages not to step on the bottle, and fumbles around removing random pots and utensils from the sink. The last of these is a large roasting fork, which he jams into the drainer with the prongs sticking up. Seasoned fans instantly clap their hands over their eyes, anticipating what is to come.

Having emptied the sink, Wayne splashes cold water over his face in an attempt to revive himself a little more. Then he heads back into the lounge calling for Grossman to wake up again. This time, his foot lands on the bottle, which rolls, and I close my eyes instantly. But, by dint of judicious peering between my fingers, I can report that Wayne falls over backward, and the back of his head lands on the roasting fork with a gruesome, gruesome squelch.

Amusingly enough, the gruesome squelch of death succeeds in rousing Grossman, where all that calling of his name didn't. The sound of someone choking to death on their own blood fills the apartment as he wakes, hauls himself to his feet, and turns to see what's going on.

Wayne is spasming against the sink unit with the bloody roasting fork sticking right out of his mouth, blue in the face and still choking out his death throes. Grossman screams like a little girl, and who can blame him?

Biggerson's car park. Dean lays out a bunch of scratch cards on the hood of the Impala, laughing to himself with delight. I defy anyone not to adore his child-like, live for the moment enthusiasm on occasions like this. Sam, meanwhile, is on the phone to Bobby, just out of Dean's earshot, and is less enthusiastic for his newfound good luck charm. Sam, bless him, just doesn't expect good luck to happen to him ever, and is suspicious of it in the extreme now that he seems to have it.

"Look, Bobby, we didn't know," he defends.
"You touched it? Dammit, Sam," Bobby growls.
"Well, Dad never told us about this thing," Sam rather crossly snips, sounding not unlike a little kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and must now make excuses. "I mean, you knew about his storage place in Black Rock?"
"His lock-up? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for him," Bobby replies.

That's interesting. The more snippets we have of Bobby's past with the Winchester family, the more curious I am to know some solid facts. Everything about his interaction with the boys suggests that he knew them when they were young, watched them grow up via recurring encounters. We know how little John was inclined to trust the majority of hunters out there by the fact that he kept his sons as far away from them as possible, which sets Bobby apart as one of the few exceptions to that rule. Little details like this one, with the storage lock-up and curse boxes, suggest further that he and John went back a very long way: the fact that Bobby knew about it and the boys didn't indicates that perhaps it was a system John set up when the boys were pretty young, something they had no reason to know anything about and he was later in the habit of not telling them about, but that his connection with Bobby goes back at least that far.

One of the few things we know for sure is that at some point prior to Devil's Trap Bobby and John had a falling out so bad that Bobby ran John off his property at the point of a shotgun, and John never went back. We know that falling out was serious enough – on John's side, at least, and we know all about John's propensity for holding grudges – that Dean was unsure of his reception when he went to Bobby for help in Devil's Trap. Bobby doesn't seem the type to hold a grudge, though, gave his help in rescuing John without hesitation, and has been a loyal and valuable friend to the boys since their father's death. On the whole, though, Bobby's history with the Winchesters remains pretty hazy, and our knowledge of it is dependent more on supposition and inference than actual evidence.

"Listen, you have got a serious problem," Bobby warns. "That rabbit's foot ain't no dimestore notion. It's real hoodoo, old world stuff. Made by a Baton Rouge conjure-woman about a hundred years ago."

The little interplay while Bobby speaks is fabulous: Sam notices a genuine Rolex watch just lying around on the ground, partially hidden by a newspaper. He picks it up and waves it for Dean to see – like a little kid seeking approval – and a delighted Dean mouths 'awesome' back at him. Sam himself looks pretty pleased by his find. And for the remainder of the conversation we can see Dean in the background counting on his fingers and drawing little sums in the air as he tries to work out just how much cash Sam has won on those scratch cards. It's awesome. What's also awesome is that while he's talking to Sam, Bobby has got the Colt disassembled on the table in front of him, maybe trying to figure out how it works, possibly in order to try and figure out a way of making it work again. After all, if Samuel Colt could do it way back when, maybe someone else can re-create that demon-killing magic now.

"It's a hell of a good luck charm," Sam observes.
"It's not a luck charm, it's a curse! She made it to kill people, Sam," Bobby snaps, with the air of a man who finds these boys extremely troublesome to deal with at times. "See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the devil. But, you lose it – that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week."
"Well, so I won't lose it, Bobby," Sam wearily suggests.

Heh. Even when he's got the good luck Sam looks and sounds like he's having a really bad day. He's got his eyes wide open to the fact that this can't possibly be good, no matter how wonderful the good luck seems at first glance, and is too busy looking ahead for possible danger to enjoy it while it lasts.

"Everybody loses it!" says Bobby, annoyed.
"Well, then, how do we break the curse?" Sam asks, exasperated, shoving the rabbit's foot into his jacket pocket. That one was covered in Bugs, wasn't it? You don't break a curse – you get out of its way.
"I don't know if you can," a worried Bobby admits, tying in beautifully with that established canon regarding curses. But a loophole has to be found, because Sam is already cursed now. "Let me look through my library and make some calls. Just sit tight."

Bobby hangs up, puts his phone down, and sighs deep and long. He's also having a bad day. In fact, the only person enjoying his day right now is Dean. "Dude. We're up fifteen grand," he happily announces, unaware of the fatal downside of this charm that Sam has just learned of. And Sam doesn't tell him.

Inside Biggerson's. There's a buzz of anticipation around the place as the boys finally walk in, after hanging around the car park so long. "Don't worry, Bobby'll find a way to break it," Dean reassures Sam as they enter. "Till then, I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man."

So…they're not planning to do any curse-breaking research of their own, then?

Sam's counter-suggestion is that they just lay low until Bobby calls back. Sam is aware that the curse is designed to kill; Dean isn't yet, as far as we know. They reach the bar, and Sam asks for a table for two. The little old man behind the counter practically jumps up and down with joy. "Congratulations!" he hollers.
"Exciting, I know," Dean snarks.

Turns out, the boys are the one-millionth (and one) guest at the Biggerson's Restaurant family. A giant cheque paid out as 'free food for one year' is handed over for the boys to hold, with streamers and confetti and all sorts, and a couple of waitresses whip out cameras and start snapping away. My immediate reaction is cameras = bad. With Dean on the FBI's most wanted list, any publicity is potentially bad publicity. Dean, however, beams happily at the cameras, while Sam pulls his bitchiest bitchface ever, not enjoying the attention as much as his brother.

RV. Kubrick finishes ringing around his contact list. You'd think word of his interest in the whereabouts of Sam Winchester would get back to Bobby's ears, eventually, since Bobby seems to know everyone. Gordon might have warned Kubrick against Bobby, and maybe Kubrick has been telling everyone to keep his interest under their hats, but from what we've seen hunters tend to be highly individual, each marching to the beat of his own drum. It seems likely that one of them would mention it to Bobby sooner or later, regardless. Or course, this particular storyline would be over by then anyway, and Bobby is just as likely to find out about Kubrick's deadly interest in Sam via Dean and Sam themselves. But it does make me wonder further about the rumours and finger-pointing that are very clearly now spreading throughout the hunting community, about the fact that lines in the sand are being drawn, with more and more hunters being called upon to take sides among themselves. They need to be united, now more than ever, but aren't, with no likelihood of ever being so.

"The word's out. Now we wait," Kubrick announces. Creely decides that's their cue to get something to eat, and Kubrick instantly leaps up to prepare something. "What do you like? I got canned everything."

Heh. Kubrick is a nutter, but he amuses me immensely. He's so…earnest, so socially dysfunctional. Creely instantly protests that he didn't mean eating in the RV – he wants to go out for food. The look on Kubrick's face says the very notion would never have occurred to him, and for all the virtues of the particular restaurant Creely is suggesting, he looks very uncertain of the idea. Clearly, Kubrick doesn't do social. I wonder how long it's been since this guy experienced any genuine human interaction, and I don't include fellow hunters in that, since so many of them appear to be so deeply dysfunctional, in their own weird and wonderful ways. Creely suggests looking up the menu on the website, trying to convince him to go.

Biggerson's. While Dean polishes off his ice cream, Sam browses online and announces that Bobby is right. "This lore goes way back. Pure hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, on a full moon, on a Friday the 13^th."

"I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggersons," is Dean's contribution to the conversation, before doubling up and grimacing as indigestion hits. Sam chuckles. Sam is way more tolerant of Dean's excesses this season than he's ever been. Part of that is no doubt fuelled by guilt over the deal and what it means in and of itself, and part, perhaps, by the fact of Dean making that deal for him simply giving Sam a whole new warts-and-all appreciation of his brother.

A waitress wanders over to freshen Sam's coffee, but manages to spill it, apologises profusely, and mops up the mess with her towel. She's as obviously flirtatious as it is possible to get, in the way that Dean usually invites. Sam isn't quite sure what to do with the attention, while Dean is impressed. Having finished mopping, the waitress walks away, glancing back over her shoulder just once. Dean and Sam, in unison, lean forward to watch her go. Then Dean looks at Sam. "Dude. If you were ever going to get lucky." Hee.

Sam picks up his cup, and promptly spills his coffee all over himself, leaps out of his seat, and collides with a passing waiter, sending his loaded tray flying. It's pretty spectacular, and the restaurant is plunged into uproar. Dean's jaw drops. As he turns to look at his brother in dismay, so does Sam's. "How is that good?" Dean wonders.

Sam gets a very bad feeling and plunges a hand into his pocket to check that he still has the rabbit's foot, but, inevitably, it is gone.

Out in the parking lot, the waitress has the rabbit's foot carefully wrapped up in her towel, which means she isn't touching it with her bare skin. Tucking it safely away, she pulls off the wig she's wearing and dumps it in the trash, then jogs away, smiling happily at her success.

Dean and Sam come dashing out of the restaurant. I'm amazed the door doesn't smack Sam in the face. There is no sign of the pickpocket. They start running toward the car, only for Sam to slip and fall, although 'fall' is a fairly mild term for the way his feet just disappear from under him and dump him to the ground in a heap. Heehee. Who knew Jared Padalecki had so much fabulous slapstick in him?

Hearing the thud, Dean skids to a halt, gets a pricelessly resigned I don't believe it, dare I even look expression on his face, and turns to see Sam gingerly prising himself up from the asphalt. "Wow. You suck," he announces, moving to pick his brother back up.

Oh, and bless him, Sam's all pink cheeks and skinned knees, like a seven-year-old. From the way both he and Dean look and react throughout the episode from here on in, I'm going to guess they're both having flashbacks to when Sam really was seven and clumsy, unable to keep up with a Dean who was already eleven, taller, faster, and stronger, those four years at the time forging an enormous divide between them.



"So what, now your luck turns bad?" Dean asks.
"I guess," Sam cagily allows, red in the face and embarrassed.
"Wonder how bad," Dean mutters, making for the car once more.

It is clear from this exchange that Sam really hasn't told his brother about the inevitably fatal nature of the curse, which would be why Dean has continued to so blithely enjoy all the positive aspects without undue concern. Sam's inclination so far this season has been to not tell Dean anything that could have negative connotations for Sam's own continued health and well being, which figures, since the strain of being under so much pressure to save Sam last season was what led Dean to sell his own soul ultimately. If Dean is Sam's weakness, the reverse is also very true.

RV. Creely shows Kubrick the website menu of his favourite restaurant, and Kubrick admits that it looks good. Creely takes the laptop back to look up the nearest location, and is stunned by what he sees. He shows Kubrick. "You seeing that?"

For there, displayed on the homepage of this particular Biggerson's restaurant for all the world to see, is a photo of Dean, beaming happily, and Sam, looking uncomfortable, holding their enormous fake cheque. It was obvious those cameras would be bad news. Kubrick smiles in delight and raises his eyes heavenward in thanks to a higher power for this unexpected piece of good fortune. Heh. If only he knew.

Apartment. Gazing at a photograph of himself and Wayne in happier times, Grossman raises a bottle of whisky to his friend's memory, bids him adios, and solemnly pours a measure onto the floor before taking a swig.

Dean and Sam casually let themselves into the apartment as if they own the joint, and Grossman is dismayed to see them. Dean tells him they've heard about what happened to his friend. Grossman isn't impressed.

"We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot," Dean announces. "A woman." Grossman drunkenly wonders how. "Because she just stole it back from us," Dean admits, and Grossman busts out laughing. Sam takes exception and starts to earnestly plead the seriousness of the situation, but takes a step forward as he does so, trips over a trailing lead and goes flying, taking a table lamp and half a bookcase with him as he goes.

Despite having the air of intimidation he was shooting for completely blown apart by his brother's ineptitude, Dean doesn't so much as twitch, doesn't turn around to see the damage, just lifts his eyebrows a little and rolls his eyes. I'm convinced that memories of a gangly and ungainly teenage Sam in the middle of a growth spurt are flooding through his mind right now, because he totally reacts to Sam's clumsiness as if he's been here and done this before. "Sam, you okay?" he checks. Sam breathlessly calls that he's good, slowly clambering back to his feet.

Dean returns his attention to a bemused Grossman. "I want you to tell us her name."
"Screw you," Grossman spits. And, to be fair, he has no reason to feel at all generous toward these two.
"It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner," Dean tells him, stern and serious and absolutely deadpan. "It was the rabbit's foot."

Heh. It takes some acting to say that line with a straight face. I'd love to know how many takes it took. Grossman laughs, protesting that he's crazy.

"You know I'm not," Dean says, very intense. "You saw what happened, what it did. All the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot, that luck goes south. That's what killed your friend. My brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don't help us stop this thing, that puts those deaths on your head. I can read people. And I get it. You're a thief, and a scumbag, and that's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you?"

Grossman falters, looks away, and shakes his head. Bravo, Dean. This is Dean at his professional best: poised, confident and in control. He knows now that Sam is under a killing curse, but is taking this bad news very much in his stride. Last season he was paranoid about any threat to Sam, and riddled with self-doubt. Save him or kill him was the injunction laid upon him, but save him from what was unclear. It must have felt a bit like being stood in front of Sam in a darkened room, blindfolded and spun around a few times, then handed a peashooter and told to fend off all comers. Terrified of the consequences of failure, he had no way of knowing what the danger was, nor which direction to expect it from, and the not knowing increased the strain of an already overwhelming burden exponentially. But all that is past now. The Yellow-Eyed Demon is dead, and as far as Dean knows his plans died with him. The danger that Sam is in now is just a job, a normal, run-of-the-mill job. He can see the danger, and knows where to look for a solution. It's within his control, fixable, and he is wonderfully in charge of the situation from here on in – the more helpless Sam becomes as the episode and curse progress, the more masterful Dean is.

Biggerson's. Heh, there's a collection of Jesus stickers on the back of the RV, just to drum the point home that Kubrick is driven by religious fervour. He's leaning against the side of the van, contemplating, as Creely returns with an armful of food to announce that no one saw which way the Winchesters went when they left and their meal was free so there's no credit card trail to follow.

"Don't worry, we'll find 'em," Kubrick drawls. Creely wonders why he's so sure. "'Cause there's a higher power at work here," he announces, practically glowing with belief. "I know it now."

Apartment. As Dean and Sam leave Grossman's place, Dean's cellphone rings. It's Bobby. As Dean walks and talks, his foot narrowly misses a large piece of used chewing gum that someone has dropped on the sidewalk. Sam, of course, lands right on it, and gets his shoe stuck.

"Dean, great news," Bobby announces. "Wasn't easy, but I've found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick."

Since Bobby has turned this up so quickly, I can't help but wonder why John didn't look for a way to destroy the rabbit's foot in the first place, rather than locking it up like that. Maybe the simple fact of Sam's life being in danger provided added motivation in the research stakes, whereas back then with perhaps no lives in danger that they cared about, it seemed simpler to just lock it up and have done with it.

Dean allows that this is great news, except for the fact that Sam lost the foot. Hee, and the look on his face when he glances behind him to see Sam standing there trying dismally to get the chewing gum off his shoe is marvellous – the reactions, both in the foreground and background of any given scene, are what make this episode so much fun to watch.

Heh, and Bobby's reaction to the news that Sam has lost the foot is great, as well. He gets so exasperated with these boys and their antics, seems to feel very responsible for them in the absence of their father. While Dean explains to Bobby about the hot chick who stole the foot from Sam, Sam himself hops over to a nearby drain and tries to scrape the chewing gum off the sole of his shoe.

"In her mid twenties, and she was sharp, you know – good enough at the con to play us," Dean describes to Bobby. The name Grossman gave them they believe to be an alias – Luigi, or something, he tries to recall, having apparently made little attempt to remember the name because that's what he's got Sam for. Lugosi, Sam corrects right on cue, still trying to get that gum off his shoe.

"Oh crap, it's probably Bela," Bobby disgustedly sighs, a reaction that speaks volumes.
"Bela Lugosi? That's cute," Dean snorts. Behind him, Sam manages to lose his shoe down the broken drain, and despairs.
"Bela Talbot's her real name," Bobby explains. "Crossed paths with her once or twice." His attitude says everything he is too polite to say out loud about how much fun those occasions weren't.
"Well, she knew about the rabbit's foot. Is she a hunter?" Dean wonders.
"Pretty friggin' far from a hunter, but she knows her way around the territory," Bobby allows. The last he heard, she was in the Middle East, but she is clearly back. "Which means seriously bad luck for you," Bobby continues. "But if it is Bela, at least I might know some folks who know where to find her."

Bobby knows everyone. It's extremely useful.

"Thanks, Bobby. Again," says Dean.
"Just look after your brother, ya eejit," Bobby wearily tells him. Hey, it's almost like old times, Dean being instructed to watch out for Sam.

Hanging up the call, Dean turns around to see a dejected Sam pouting at him. "I lost my shoe," he despondently tells his brother, looking and sounding for all the world like a very, very tall five year old. Aww. Cast in the role of put-upon parent-figure in this scenario, Dean looks at Sam, looks at his socked foot, rolls his eyes and sighs.



Motel. The Impala pulls into the forecourt, Dean on the phone to Bobby once again. "Thanks. We owe you. Another one." Heh, how many favours do they owe Bobby by now? I think he should start calling them in, because I'm sure that would make for an entertaining episode. Bobby has it on pretty good authority that Bela lives in Queens, and Dean estimates that it'll take him about two hours to get there. Sam wonders why, in that case, they are at a motel. "You, my brother, are staying here, 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed," Dean tells him, very honestly and sensibly. The Impala pulls around into the car park, passing a very familiar RV as it goes.

Motel room. A man on a mission, Dean tows a passive Sam by the sleeve into the room he's booked.

"What am I even supposed to do, Dean?" Sam grumbles.
"Nothing," Dean very firmly instructs, sitting his brother down on a chair in the middle of the room. "I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here, and don't move. Okay? Don't turn on the light. Don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose!"

Teehee. Sam pouts so disconsolately, disgruntled with both his extreme bad luck and the restrictions laid upon him because of it. Of course, his nose starts twitching immediately, but he waits until Dean is out of sight before risking a quick scratch. And then he is left all alone to just sit and do nothing.

Sam really is like a five year old while he's under this curse, completely dependent, unable to safely do just about anything for himself and allowing his brother to make all the decisions. Up until now this season, of course, he has seemed determined not to burden his brother any more, to take care of his problems by himself, and Dean has been more than willing to let him get on with that. After the almost claustrophobic intensity of last season, when Sam was so frightened and needy and Dean seemed permanently exhausted with worry, it's been very healthy progress for them both. Sam needs to step out from behind his brother and stand on his own two feet, and Dean needs to take a step back and allow him that growth and independence, and not just because as things stand Dean won't be around to take care of Sam after this year is up. I'd been wondering how long they'd be able to keep it up without reversion, though, because the habits of a lifetime are hard to break, and this curse has now snapped them both right back into the roles their entire lives have shaped for them: oldest and youngest, protector and protected.

Queens, New York. There's a very pretty establishing shot.

Bela's apartment is absolutely sumptuous. I want it. She strolls through it looking elegant and refined, talking tough on the phone with her buyer. It is clear that her brand of thievery is very exclusive, not to mention lucrative, and I adore her random Siamese cat. Just why she hired a pair of no-hopers like Wayne and Grossman to steal the foot for her is never really examined, but I'm going to assume that she doesn't like to get her hands dirty if she can pay someone else to do the grunt work for her.

During the conversation with the buyer, Bela spots Dean on a security camera, stealthily sneaking his way toward her apartment. Unruffled, she picks up the rabbit's foot in a pair of salad tongs – I like that the cat instantly hisses; we've been told before on this show that animals are sometimes sensitive to supernatural phenomena – and places it down on a worktop in the kitchen, then opens the fridge and takes out a handgun.

Bela slowly walks toward the door, and finds it ajar. Dean moves fast. She looks rather worried as she moves to investigate, not entirely the cool, collected ice maiden her public image suggests. Her alarm system beeps an error, and she looks at it to find a little note saying 'turn around'. Heh, nice one. Bela turns, and there's Dean, with a gun pointed at her head. She instantly aims hers at him, and then we have standoff. "You left without your tip," Dean coolly snarks, and Bela looks both annoyed and impressed. It's a reaction not dissimilar to Henrickson each time the Winchesters outsmart him.



Motel. Having been sat twiddling his thumbs in that chair for at least two hours now, Sam is bored rigid. Boredom suddenly becomes attractive, however, when the air conditioning rather wheezily cranks up of its own accord, and the vent starts chugging out smoke.

"Oh, come on! I didn't…I wasn't…." Sam's hopeless dismay knows no bounds, since he hasn't even moved from the chair, never mind gone anywhere near the vent. Standing up and rubbing his stiff backside, he warily risks taking a few steps closer, wondering what to do since touching it will no doubt only make things worse. The wretched thing promptly bursts into flames as he approaches. Alarmed, Sam grabs a bedspread off the nearest bed and flaps at the flames, managing with some effort to extinguish them, only to set his own sleeve alight in the process. He freaks out, as you would with an arm on fire, rushes over to the curtains, and uses them to beat the flames out so violently that the curtain rail breaks and the whole lot comes crashing down on top of him. And writing all this down does no justice whatsoever to the impeccable direction, facial reactions and comedic timing of this scene.

Outside, Kubrick and Creely appear to be randomly peering in just the right window at just the right time to witness this performance, which ends with Sam laid out cold on the floor. Creely boggles, while Kubrick raises his eyes heavenward in delighted thanks to the higher power that brought him this good fortune.

Queens. Dean and Bela's standoff continues.

"You're going to give it back," Dean firmly tells Bela, slowly backing further into the apartment.
Bela laughs. "No, I'm not."
"Yeah, we'll see. Bela, right?" Dean keeps moving while he talks.
"That's right. Dean." Two can play at that game.
"You know the thing is cursed, don't you?" Dean clarifies.

During the conversation, Dean is moving all the time, forcing Bela to move with him, so that the two of them very slowly revolve around the open plan apartment until Dean is standing right by the kitchen worktop. Bela put the rabbit's foot on the kitchen worktop, let us remember.

"You'd be surprised what some people would pay for something like that," Bela explains, ice cool. "There's a lucrative market out there. Lot of money to be made."

Bela's got a very posh English accent – the kind of lazy, languid drawl mostly associated with the very rich. I suppose American programme makers do know that there are more accents in the UK than 'London' and 'posh'? The American actress does a decent job of the accent, although she tends to over-enunciate a bit.

"You hunters with all those talismans and amulets you use to stop those big bad monsters," Bela continues, sounding amused at the notion. "Any one of them could put your children's children through college."
"So you know the truth," Dean remarks, taking stock of his opponent, who, in terms of moral and social conscience regarding the things that go bump in the night, is just about his polar opposite. "About what's really going on out there. And this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief?" He gives her a little mock pout of disapproval.
"I procure unique items for a select clientele," Bela corrects.
"Yeah. A thief," Dean summarises. Stealing's stealing whatever you call it – Dean should know, expert in credit card fraud that he is.
"No. A great thief," Bela smugly brags, clearly getting a buzz out of this little confrontation. She's on home turf, has possession of the rabbit's foot, and isn't the one with a loved one in mortal peril, so can afford to play games.

Motel. Sam wakes up to find himself back on that chair, having duct tape wound around him very securely to hold him in place. He is rather surprised by this, and is also surprised to find Kubrick and Creely, who he has never met before, holding him prisoner.

"We didn't even have to touch you. You just went all spastic and knocked yourself out," Creely gloats. "It was like watching Jerry Lewis ride a stack of chairs."

Sam starts to ask who they are and what they want, but Kubrick snaps his fingers in dismissal and Sam…obediently shuts up. That's not actually like him, but he's having a very bad day, even by Winchester standards. Not as bad as the day he got murdered, but fast heading that way.

"I used to think your friend Gordon sent me," Kubrick begins.
"Gordon? Oh, come on," Sam groans.
"He asked me to track you down and put a bullet in your brain," Kubrick very frankly continues.
"Great. That sounds like him," Sam wearily admits. Sam is so adorable in this mood, so immensely pessimistic, because he never believed such good luck could really happen to him anyway, and now that the luck has turned bad, he sees no reason for it not to just carry on getting worse and worse.
"But, as it turns out, I'm on a mission from God," Kubrick beams. And he punches Sam hard in the face. Ouch.

Beating up a restrained prisoner? That's low. That's very low. Kubrick and Gordon deserve each other. And you really have to feel for poor Sam. He's already got a demon after him, at least one, convinced there's something special about him still. And now he's got hunters after him, convinced he's evil and must be destroyed. Sucks to be Sam. All he wants is to get on with the job and find a way to save his brother, but all this stuff that was done to him not by him keeps getting in the way, dragging him back down just when he thought he was free of it at last. The seeming impossibility of shaking off the Yellow-Eyed Demon's legacy must be all kinds of depressing, and he can't even share his fears with Dean, because he's made a conscious decision to keep them secret. He's been getting such a kick out of seeing his brother relaxed and happy. But he can't hide his worrying demon issues or the disturbing new information about their mother indefinitely – sooner or later it's all going to backfire on him. Keeping secrets never works out well on this show.

Queens. Dean starts to explain about how Sam touched the foot, so when Bela took it his luck turned perilously bad. Bela interrupts that she knows how it works.

"So then you know he's going to die unless we can destroy it." Dean lays it on the line.
"Oh." Bela fakes dismay and capitulation. "You can have the foot. For one-point-five million."
"Nice. Yeah. I'll just call my banker," Dean scoffs. "How'd you even find the damn thing? Tucked in the back of some storage place, middle of nowhere."

He's on the move again, slowly moving away from the kitchen worktop now, back toward the door. In order to keep him in her sights, Bela has to turn with him. She nods her head toward a ouija board on a shelf nearby. "I just asked a few of the ghosts of people it had killed. They were very tuned into its location," she boasts, as if communing with the dead is all in a day's work. Sounds dangerous to me, opening herself up to all kinds of risk. But she seems to enjoy risk, finds it thrilling, like an adrenaline junkie, and totally worth taking for the financial pay-off.

Dean still can't quite believe her attitude, having lived such a hand-to-mouth existence most of his life in the service of ignorant and frequently ungrateful others. "So you're only in it for yourself? It's all about number one?"
"Being a hunter is so much more noble?" Bela protests, stung. "Bunch of obsessed, revenge-driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved?"

Well, in fairness, a number of the hunters we've met do seem to fit that description quite well.

Dean lifts an eyebrow. "Well. Aren't you a glass half full."
"We're all going to hell, Dean," Bela declares. "Might as well enjoy the ride."
"I actually agree with you there," Dean cheerfully tells her. "Anyhoo, this has been charming, but, uh – look at the time. Oh, and this?" Hee. He holds up the rabbit's foot. Bare hands – it's working its mojo. "Looks like you're not the only one with sticky fingers. If it's any consolation, I think you're a truly awful person."

Heh. Way to tell it like it is. Bela is furious. She lifts her gun and fires, twice. Both bullets miss Dean completely, ricochet a hole through her ouija board, and break some of the ornaments she's got tastefully displayed around the place. There's karma for you. Dean is delighted by the invincibility bestowed upon him by the foot, laughs with glee, and flees, with Bela still ineffectually firing after him, the ricochets narrowly missing both herself and her cat.

I cannot describe how much I love that Dean has so successfully outsmarted Bela, since she has been presented to us as both smart and cunning. I also love that he has so willingly and knowingly exposed himself to the curse, because it's so very Dean – he can make wholehearted use of the good luck while it lasts, knows how to destroy and cleanse the thing once the situation is resolved, and since Sam is already cursed anyway there's that added sense of going down together if it all goes wrong.

Motel. Creely throws a glass of water in Sam's face to wake him up again. Sam is looking very battered and bruised, with a bloody nose, and I'm furious because he's tied up and can't even defend himself in any way. Also? This scene was clearly shot at a different time to the last one, as there is less duct tape wrapped around him in this one. And that is the only continuity blip I choose to refer to in this episode, because I enjoy it too much to nitpick.

"You were a part of that demon plan to open the gate, weren't you," Kubrick tells, rather than asks.
"We did everything we could to stop it," Sam dully states. He can see clearly that there is no point arguing with this maniac, but has to at least try.
Kubrick insists that he's lying. "You were in on it. You know what their next move is, too, don't you?"
"No, I don't, okay. You're wrong about all of this," Sam helplessly insists.

Kubrick continues to throw questions at him about demonic plans, emphasising his demands with blows that Sam can't avoid. It's pretty dark material for such a fun, light-hearted episode.

"Gordon told me about you, Sam," Kubrick explains. "About your powers. You're some kind of weirdo psychic freak."
"No, not any more. No powers, no visions, nothing," Sam desperately protests, earning himself another punch to the face.
"No more lies," Kubrick commands. "There's an army of demons out there pushing at a world already on the brink. We're on deck here for the endgame, right? So maybe, just maybe, you can understand why we can't take chances."

Kubrick pulls a gun out and points it at Sam's head. Sam cringes back as far as his bonds will allow, urgently pleading his innocence, and even Creely now tries to hold his partner back, although it's a bit late to be growing a conscience, really. I'm not sure what to make of Creely. He doesn't have any of Gordon or Kubrick's conviction; he's just along for the ride. But he's allowing himself to be a party to some pretty despicable actions here, and he doesn't even have the excuse of believing wholeheartedly in what he's doing, which in a way makes him worse than either of them.

"You saw what happened, Creely. Ask yourself – why are we here?" Kubrick starts to lecture on the subject of his 'divine guidance'. "Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel and not another? Luck like that doesn't just happen."
"Look, I can explain all of that," Sam tries to interrupt, but Kubrick tells him to shut up. And, again, he does.
"It's God, Creely," Kubrick insists. "He led us here for one reason: to do His work. This is destiny."

Kubrick turns and aims his gun at Sam's head again. The loud click of a gun being cocked rings out as Sam cringes in anticipation of the shot, but it isn't Kubrick's gun being armed.

"Nope," Dean announces, gun aimed at the madman about to kill his brother. Talk about the nick of time – that'll be the rabbit's foot. Also the fact that Dean has a lifetime of experience taking care of his brother, and that kind of habit is hard to shake. "No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot."

Hee. Again, I wonder how many takes it took to say that line with a straight face. Creely and Kubrick both turn to see Dean. Creely has his hands up but Kubrick keeps his gun aimed at Sam, who is jerking his head back as far as possible in an attempt to avoid getting shot in the face, since that really would cap off a truly awful day.

"Put the gun down, son, or you're going to be scraping brain off the wall," Kubrick calmly tells Dean, kind of echoing Jake in All Hell Breaks II, there.

Dean casually shrugs and agrees, putting his gun down on a handy nearby table and picking up a pen instead. "But you see there's something about me you don't know," he cheerfully tells the other hunter. Kubrick finally turns all the way around to ask what that would be, so that his gun is pointed at Dean rather than Sam's head. "It's my lucky day," Dean grins. He tosses the pen, and it lodges right in the gun barrel. Neat!

Sam's eyes almost pop out of his head with surprise, while Dean busts out laughing in delight. Heh, even in the middle of a tense gunpoint standoff Dean can get more enjoyment out of the good luck aspect of the rabbit's foot than Sam ever did at the height of his good fortune. That is just so them.

Creely rushes at Dean, who simply takes a step to one side, and the man goes charging into a wall and knocks himself out. Dean's face is a picture, absolutely loving this. "I'm amazing," he crows, picking up a television remote as Kubrick pulls the pen out of his gun. Kubrick turns to shoot, but Dean throws the remote first. It hits him in the nose, and takes him down for the count. Awesome.

"I'm Batman," Dean announces, preening, loving every second of this.
Not having such a good time, Sam rolls his eyes scathingly. "Yeah. You're Batman."



Later. In a random graveyard someplace, Sam sprinkles dirt over glowing coals. I'm amazed Dean is letting him do that – with his luck, you'd expect him to faceplant right into the fire or something. As it is, Dean is too busy scratching away at a handful of scratch cards, making good on his luck while it lasts, to be concerned. A subdued and rather red-cheeked Sam rattles off a list of ingredients added to the fire, as per Bobby's instructions. I hope they've made careful note of this cleansing ritual, in case of future need. Dean tells Sam to wait one second while he finishes his last card, and Sam begins to protest, but Dean cuts right across him. "Hey, back off, jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon."

Hee. Sam's bad luck makes fantastic fuel for brotherly tormenting. Also, it could be argued that there's a strong streak of practicality in there, too, wound in around the gleeful opportunism. Dean always has been the breadwinner of this partnership; wanting to make some easy money to support the two of them while the opportunity presents itself is very in character.

Finishing up, Dean tucks the winning cards into the pocket of his jacket, slung over a headstone nearby, then turns back to Sam and the fire, ready to go on the ritual. "Say goodbye, Wascally Wabbit." Heh.

Click! A gun is cocked, and Dean spins around to see Bela aiming at him. "I think you'll find that belongs to me," she coolly remarks. "Or, you know. Whatever."

Standoff. Again.

"Put the foot down, honey," Bela coolly instructs.
"No." Cocky with such a heady string of success, Dean tries to pull the same routine that worked so well on Grossman earlier, almost word for word, pushing his luck as far as it'll go. "You're not going to shoot anybody. See, I happen to be able to read people. Okay, you're a thief, fine, but you're not –"

Bang! Bela shoots Sam in the shoulder. Yikes! This chick really does mean business. Also, she's well and truly earned Dean's hatred now. His mood just flips from routine, almost laid-back snark to absolute outrage. Before, this was just another job, all in a day's work. Now it's personal. He doesn't immediately rush to his brother's side, though. It is clearly a minor wound, relatively speaking – Sam's back on his feet almost at once, clutching at his bloody shoulder and grimacing with pain – and there is still a gunpoint standoff regarding a dangerous cursed object to resolve, which has to be the first priority.

"Back off, tiger. Back off!" Bela snarls. "You make one more move, and I pull the trigger. You've got the luck, Dean. You I can't hit. But your brother? Him I can't miss."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean bellows his righteous fury. "You don't just go around shooting people like that!"
"Relax. It's a shoulder hit. I can aim," Bela nonchalantly dismisses the injury to Sam. "Besides. Who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground. Now."

Backed into a corner, with Sam as hostage, Dean has no choice but to comply. He slowly bends down to do as she says – but suddenly tosses the rabbit's foot right at her. "Think fast."

Hee. Bela's reflexes work faster than her brain. She catches the rabbit's foot instinctively, and then realises what she's done. "Damn."
Dean smirks. "Now. What do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?"

I love it. I love that he's outsmarted her twice, despite not generally being seen as the brains of the outfit, and that she has been successfully introduced to us as smart, cunning and ruthless without our boys having to be dumbed down for the effect. Bela, we are to understand from this encounter, is very good at what she does, but not infallible, just another screwed up person in this screwed up world.

Moments later. Bela drops the rabbit's foot onto the fire and pouts as it catches alight, with pretty sparks signalling the death of the curse.

"Thanks very much," she grumbles. "I'm out one and a half million, and in the bad books of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."
"Wow. I really don't feel bad about that," Dean airily tells her. "Sam?"
"Nope," Sam agrees, pressing a cloth to his wound and shuffling uncomfortably. "Not even a little."

I wonder if we'll see Sam wearing that jacket again, now it has a bullet hole in it? When Dean got shot his coat managed to survive completely unscathed! This is the second coat Sam's had damaged or ruined in this episode.

Bela starts to walk away, stops by a headstone and turns back, her hand resting on Dean's jacket, right over the pocket from which we can see his scratch cards poking. "Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry," she offers by way of farewell.
"Oh, don't go away angry," Dean mocks. "Just go away."
A broad grin spreads across Bela's face. The scratch cards are no longer sticking out of Dean's jacket pocket. "Have a nice night, boys." She makes her exit.

Later. With the rabbit's foot destroyed, the boys gather up their belongings and head back to the car, Dean carrying the bag while Sam has the shovel. Sam is still uncomfortably pressing that cloth to his wound, but neither seems to be in any hurry to actually administer any first aid. John raised 'em tough.

"You're good?" Dean checks.
"I'll live," Sam allows.
"I guess we're back to normal now," Dean decides. "No good luck. No bad luck…. Oh!" He remembers the scratch cards, goes to take them out of his pocket. "Forgot. We're up forty-six thousand dollars! I almost forgot about the –"

Of course, the cards are gone. With impeccable timing, Bela toots her horn in farewell, smirking happily as she caresses the scratch cards. Such a bitch – they need that money far more than she does! But, from her point of view, it means the job wasn't a complete loss. She was in it for the money from the start; Dean and Sam were in it to retrieve and make safe a dangerous cursed item. So they have all now achieved their desired goals, when you look at it from a certain perspective.

Dean and Sam gape at one another in disbelief, and then Dean explodes. "Son of a bitch!" Heh. Dean always does hate to part with his hard-earned cash to any undeserving cause. Oh, but Sam just cracks up, right there, and I adore that he can suddenly see the humour in the situation, even if what he is laughing at is the look on Dean's face. And I don't even care if that was the actor breaking character at the wrong moment, because it was left in, and it's perfect. I hope they at least managed to hang onto that Rolex – that could buy 'em a few nights at a decent motel.

Jail. "You were right about everything," rasps Kubrick, who has come to see Gordon again. Heh. He's sporting a dressing across his broken nose, where Dean tossed that remote at him. It was an excellent shot. "Sam Winchester is more than a monster. He's the Adversary."

Gordon wonders what it was that convinced him. Gordon is always so calm, so collected, and the contrast between his composure and Kubrick's almost feverish zeal here is pronounced.

"God led me to him," Kubrick breathes. "And His will is clear."
Gordon takes a moment to process the fact that this one man who seems willing to help him in his quest is clearly a stark, raving lunatic. He should learn a lesson from that, but doesn't. "O-kay. That's great. Glad to have you on board. But, uh, first things first – we gotta get me the hell out of here."

Heh. Yes. He didn't seem so eager to get out of jail before, when he thought he could just point Kubrick in the right direction and let him remove Sam from the picture. Now, though, now that Kubrick has failed but been completely converted to the cause, and he has a clearer idea of the dangers out there, he wants in on the fight himself.

"'Cause like I told you before," Gordon finishes. "Sam Winchester must die."


October 2007

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