7.16 Out with the Old

Air Date: 16 March 2012

NOW

INT. DANCE STUDIO – NIGHT

Dancers are preparing to leave after practice, putting their ballet shoes into bags and putting on scarves and jackets.

DANCER 1

No Irina again. Guess she's too famous for us.

DANCER 2

No, she just... "vants to be alone."

The dancers giggle. The door opens and another dancer enters.

DANCER 1

Irina. A little late for practice, no?

IRINA

Never too late. Practice makes perfect... if you have the talent.

The other dancers leave. IRINA takes off her street clothes, under which she's wearing a leotard, and puts on her ballet shoes. She stretches, does some exercises at the barre, turns on music and begins to dance.

♪ Tchaikovsky's "Swan's Theme" plays ♪

Suddenly she begins to spin faster, then loses her balance and grabs the barre. She is still en pointe and is breathing heavily. She screams as she is flung backwards and begins to spin again. In the hallway, a janitor is mopping the floor. IRINA spins faster and faster. She screams as blood splatters the walls. The janitor comes in to investigate and finds IRINA dead with bloody stumps instead of feet. The janitor crosses himself. IRINA's ballet shoes are arranged on the floor in pristine condition.

SUPERNATURAL

ACT ONE

EXT. WALKWAY ALONG RIVER – DAY

Dean is on the phone to Frank. The scene alternates between Dean standing on the walkway and Frank in his trailer.

Dean (on phone): So, Dick's funding an archaeological dig? Well, unless Dick's actually digging himself, I'm not sure I know what to do with that, Frank. Or the factory in Saudi Arabia, or the fishery in Jakarta. None of this is helping, Frank.

Frank (on phone): Explain how Western to Southeast Asia is too wide a net. You know, I could be in Tromso right now. Zero Leviathan activity in Tromso.

Dean (on phone): Where the hell is Tromso?

Frank (on phone): Norway, you moron. By the way, they opened another Biggerson in Butte.

Dean (on phone): Yeah, well, we're not in Montana.

Frank (on phone): Oh, you know where Butte is. That's encouraging. So, where are you?

Dean (on phone): We're in Oregon.

Frank (on phone): No. I got nothing in Oregon.

Dean (on phone): Wisconsin, Frank.

Frank (on phone): What about it?

Dean (on phone): The coordinates – Bobby's coordinates.

Frank (on phone): Bobby... Oh! Right. Yeah, no. I got nothing. I got no activity.

Dean (on phone): Well, work on it.

Frank (on phone): Hey. When did you become the boss of me? You don't like what I'm doing, you can stick it right up your Montana.

Dean (on phone): All right, all right, all right. Take it easy, Frank.

Frank (on phone): Oh, and another thing –

Frank hangs up.

Dean (on phone): Frank? Hello? Fr—

Sam walks up, carrying a coffee and a newspaper.

Dean

He's a crazy son of a bitch.

Sam: Frank?

Dean: You know, having a cranky total paranoid as your go-to guy – that's – it's... I don't know what it is. What, are you going for, like, the Guinness record of caffeine consumption? That's like your fifth

this morning.

Sam: Yeah, well, every time I close my eyes, Lucifer is yelling into my head. It's like I let him in once,

now I can't get rid of him.

Dean: You know he's not actually...

Sam: Yeah. Yeah, no. I know. Uh, try telling that to the volume control inside my brain.

Dean: Well, did you try the hand thing?

Sam: Yeah.

Sam: Anyway, long as I'm awake, check it out.

Sam hands Dean the newspaper.

Sam: They're saying drugs, but read between the lines. Sounds like she danced her own feet off. Might be our kind of thing.

Dean: Dancers. They are toe shoes full of crazy.

Sam: You – and you would know this how?

Dean: I saw "Black Swan." Twice. Hot tutu-on-tutu action? Come on, Sam. What's wrong with you?

Sam: Wow. The depths of your – Anyway, it's in Portland, a couple hours away. What do you think?

Dean: Yeah, dancers. Why not? Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way.

Sam: Yeah, maybe.

They drive away in a black car that is not the Impala.

INT. PORTLAND Police STATION – DAY

Sam and Dean enter the police station.

Sam: So, the usual – no EMF, no sulfur, no hex junk.

Dean: If there's no more dancers to interview on this trip, it could be a bust. Although I hear they have good coffee in Portland.

Sam: Dude, that's Seattle. Oh, let's just get the drill over with.

The DUTY Officer behind the desk is talking to another Officer. Dean clears his throat and Sam raises a hand. The DUTY Officer raises a hand in acknowledgment, but continues to talk.

Officer: Later.

The Officer leaves.

Sam: Hi.

DUTY Officer

Yeah?

Sam: Uh, we'd like to see the crime-scene photos from the Irina Koganzon case, please.

DUTY Officer

And you would be...

Dean: Oh.

Sam and Dean show their FBI ID.

DUTY Officer

Give me a minute.

Dean: Take your time.

Another Officer is writing on an evidence bag that contains the ballet shoes. He puts the bag down on a table, at which a Young Girl is drawing. She reaches out an arm for the bag.

Officer 2

No, you can't touch those, honey. Those are for Daddy's work.

Young Girl

Daddy... I have to go pee.

Officer 2

Sweetie, you know where the little girls' room is.

The DUTY Officer gives Dean a case file that contains a crime scene picture of IRINA and the ballet shoes.

Dean: Yeah, I'd call that weird.

The Young Girl enters the ladies room. The ballet shoes are on the floor. She closes the door behind her and puts one shoe on. It magically resizes to fit her feet.

Sam and Dean enter the evidence room and show their ID.

Sam: Hey, there. How you doing?

Officer 2

Okay. What can I do for you fellas?

Sam: Well, we need to see the shoes that were involved in the ballet dancer's death.

Officer 2

Didn't figure that would be an FBI deal. But sure. Yeah, right here.

Officer 2 turns around and sees that the ballet shoes are no longer on the table.

Officer 2

Damn it, Tracy.

Dean: Who's Tracy?

Officer 2

My daughter. She loves ballet.

Dean and Sam burst into the ladies room. Tracy is sitting on the floor, wearing the ballet shoes.

Sam: Hey, take those shoes off.

Tracy is pulled to her feet by an invisible force, goes up en pointe and begins to spin. Sam grabs Tracy around her middle.

Sam: Dean, get the shoes!

Dean: I'm trying!

TRACY's legs flail as Dean tries to grab her feet. She kicks Dean in the head.

Tracy: Sorry!

Dean gets one shoe off.

Sam: Come on, Dean!

Dean: I'm trying!

Tracy kicks Dean in the head again.

Tracy: Sorry!

Dean: I got it! I got it.

Sam: Uh! Okay. I'm going with cursed object.

Dean: You think?

Sam: (to Tracy) You okay?

Sam and Dean leave the ladies room. Sam is carrying the ballet shoes using a pen. A sticker in one of the shoes reads "$15.99 OUT WITH THE OLD".

Sam: Next stop – "Out With The Old". I suppose it's too much to hope that these shoes are the only thing in that store that we have to worry about.

Dean: Oh, what a dreamer you are.

They leave the police station.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Dean and Sam pull into a parking spot. The ballet shoes are in the back seat.

Dean: Hey. Didn't we put those in the trunk?

Sam: H-how did they –

Dean: Cursed object, Sam.

Sam: Do they... look like they're... your size?

Dean: Shut up.

Sam: Wait, a-are you –

Dean: Getting the strong urge to Prince Siegfried myself into oblivion? Yes.

Sam: You really did see "Black Swan."

A Woman is talking to a man standing in the doorway of a tool shop. Next to her is an ASSIStanT, who is carrying files, a bag and a case.

Woman: Well, it was nice seeing you, Mr. Marshall. Please call me if you have any questions about the offer.

MR MARSHALL

I'll let you know.

Woman's ASSIStanT

I don't think he's gonna sell.

Woman: Thinking is not your strong suit, George.

The Woman stops at the passenger side and George walks to the driver's side of a car.

Woman: George? The door.

George hurries around to the passenger side, still carrying the files, bag and case, and opens the door.

Sam and Dean cross the street behind the car. Sam is holding the ballet shoes out in front of him. They open the door to an antique store with a "Going Out Of Business Sale" sign on the door.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE – DAY

Sam: Hello?

A Man is mopping the floor.

Sam: Hey, did you sell these?

Man: Uh, yeah.

Sam: Where did you get them?

Man: Uh, m-my m-mother had them in that box.

Sam puts the ballet shoes down on a display cabinet and goes to get the box. It is made of wood and has symbols carved into the lid. Dean picks up the ballet shoes and appears transfixed by them.

Man: I don't understand. What's happening?

Sam holds out the open box to the Man.

Sam: This, in here?

Sam notices Dean holding the ballet shoes.

Sam: Hey! Hey, hey, hey!

Sam pulls the shoes away from Dean and puts them in the box.

Sam: Geez! You okay there, Baryshnikov?

Dean: Yeah. Yeah, I'm "pas de done."

Man: Okay, if it's not too much trouble, do you mind telling me, uh, what's – what's going on?

Sam and Dean show their FBI ID.

Sam: What's your name?

Man: Uh, Scott – uh, Scott Freeman.

Sam: You said these were your mother's? Where'd she get them?

Scott: I don't know. I found them in the back.

Dean: I got it.

Sam: Now, where is your mother?

Scott: Well, she's, uh... She passed away last week.

Sam: I'm sorry to hear that. Scott, listen. These shoes...

Scott: Just some personal stuff she collected. I'm trying to get rid of it all.

Sam: All? Is there more like this?

Dean walks back into the room holding up empty wooden boxes.

Dean: Sam.

Sam: Scott, what was in those boxes?

INT. HOUSE – DAY

A woman is chopping vegetables. She picks up an apple from a fruit basket and then drops it with a start when an old-fashioned kettle on the stovetop whistles. She walks slowly to the kettle, picks up the metal handle with a bare hand, supports the base of the kettle with her other hand and pours boiling water into her mouth. The water spills over her chin, burning her face.

ACT TWO

INT. ANTIQUE STORE – DAY

Scott: Okay, what the hell kind of FBI guys are you?

Dean: The kind that are trying to fix the mess you started. Now where'd your mom get these?

Scott: I don't know. I found them in her safe.

Sam: Did it ever occur to you that these things might be locked in that safe for a reason?

Scott: No, I-I just thought it was some of the junk that she had collected over the years. Like, I knew she was into some weird stuff, but I never thought that she would be, like –

Dean: Yeah, well, think again, okay? 'Cause this "junk" is killing people.

Scott: What? Like, how can that be?

Sam: Look, Scott. We're gonna need to know exactly what you sold out of that safe and names and addresses of who you sold it to.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Sam and Dean pull up and get out of the car.

Dean: All right, what do we got?

Sam: She bought a tea kettle.

Dean: Tea kettle?

Sam: Yeah. Hey, with enough curse mojo, you can turn a freaking pencil into a weapon of mass destruction.

Dean: Good times.

INT. HOUSE – DAY

Dean and Sam enter and see the kettle on the ground next to the woman's body. Her face is badly burned. Dean picks up some rubber gloves and wraps the handle of the kettle with them before picking the kettle up.

Dean: Better call this in.

Sam (on phone): Hello, yeah. I'd like to report an accident at 23 Gorham Road.

My name? Uh... Bruce Hornsby.

EXT. HOUSE – DAY

Dean: All right. Who's next on the list?

Sam takes a notebook out of his pocket.

Sam: We got a, uh, gramophone sold to Brenda Gluck, 413 River Street, and a vintage gentlemen's magazine sold to Peter Yankit, 27 Johnson Lane.

Dean: Really?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: All right, we'd better split up. Why don't you take the gramophone? I'll handle the old rag.

Sam: I wouldn't really "handle" it if I were you. Remember those shoes?

Dean: Yeah, how could I forget?

Dean puts the kettle in the back seat of the car.

Dean: You know, I wonder how old porn kills you.

Dean hands the rubber gloves to Sam.

Sam: Pretty sure you don't want to know.

Dean: Yeah, you're probably right. All right. Let's do this.

Sam: Yep.

Dean walks to the driver's door of the car and Sam walks away.

INT. HOUSE 2 – DAY

A Woman starts the gramophone and smiles at a Young Boy, who is sitting on the sofa using a computer tablet. She picks up a laundry basket.

Woman: I'm gonna run these upstairs. Be right back.

Young Boy

Mmm.

WHISPERED Voice

Hey, Timmy.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Sam walks along the street. He runs a hand over his face and looks at his notebook.

INT. HOUSE 2 – DAY

The Young Boy is playing a game on the tablet as the gramophone music plays.

WHISPERED Voice

Hey, Timmy. Come here. I have a secret for you.

TIMMY looks up several times, then at the gramophone.

WHISPERED Voice

Hey, Timmy. Timmy, come here. Timmy.

TIMMY walks over to the gramophone and places his ear near the speaker. He listens to the whispered voice and then walks away.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Sam walks along the street.

INT. HOUSE 2 – DAY

TIMMY picks up a large knife. The Woman walks down the stairs and sits down on the sofa with a magazine. TIMMY walks towards her, carrying the knife. As he is raising his arm to strike, Sam bursts in, grabs TIMMY's arm and takes the knife. The Woman screams.

Sam: Where's the gramophone?

The Woman points. Sam walks over to the gramophone and puts on a rubber glove.

TIMMY

Hey. That's mine.

Sam: Kid, this would be a really good time for a lesson in gratitude. Lucky for you, I'm too tired.

Sam's phone rings and he answers it. The scene alternates between Sam in the house and Dean walking along a street, carrying a wooden box.

Sam (on phone): Hey.

Dean (on phone): Hey. Got the porn. Just in time, too.

Sam (on phone): What was he doing?

Dean (on phone): Uh, like you said, you don't want to know. Where you at?

Sam (on phone): I just got the gramophone. I'm across town. I'll head your way.

Sam and Dean hang up.

EXT. STREET – DAY

Dean puts the box in the trunk of the car.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE – NIGHT

Dean is putting a wooden box into the safe.

Scott: So my mom wasn't just some whack job. All this stuff is real?

Dean: Yep.

Scott: Well, now I-I really feel like crap.

Dean: How come?

Scott: I kept pushing her to sell the store. She kept saying no, and I kept pushing her, you know, telling her how much money she'd make.

Dean: You think you changed her mind?

Scott: I don't know. You know, this real-estate lady kept coming around, and then one day, just like that, mom says okay. Then she had that accident, never even got to enjoy the money.

Dean: How soon after?

Scott: The next day.

Dean: The n— How did she die?

Scott: Car crash. You know, I keep thinking, if I hadn't pushed her, then...

Dean: Hey, a little tip. Uh, feeling guilty ain't gonna bring 'em back. Best you can do is live your life the way that you think would make her proud. Or at least not embarrass the crap out of her.

Scott smiles and nods.

Dean: Oh, uh... you know the drill, right? Don't touch anything in those boxes. In fact, don't even go near the safe. Once we get it all boxed up, we'll get a U-Haul and get everything out of here.

Scott: Believe me, I – I got it.

EXT. STREET – NIGHT

Dean leaves the antique shop. He noticed the Bicklebee Realty "SOLD" sign, which has a large picture of the Woman who was talking to MR MARSHALL, in the window. He walks along the street. Almost every store has the Same "SOLD" sign in the window. The name below the WOMAN's photo is Joyce Bicklebee.

INT. BICKLEBEE REALTY OFFICE – NIGHT

JOYCE is sitting behind a desk, talking to MR MARSHALL, who is smoking a cigar.

JOYCE

You know, Mr. Marshall, the block won't be the Same. Most of your neighbors have already sold. Now, I've prepared an analysis report for you. George?

JOYCE gets up and takes a piece of paper from George.

JOYCE

Not this one, George. Mr. Marshall's. Hard to find good help these days.

George gives JOYCE another piece of paper, which she hands on to MR MARSHALL.

JOYCE

Anyway, as you can see, our offer is more than generous.

MR MARSHALL

Seems that way.

JOYCE

And with that generous offer, you can pretty much go wherever and do whatever you please. You can get on with your life.

MR MARSHALL

You know, Miss Bicklebee, I came here tonight with every intention of selling. But what you just said, about getting on with my life – that store is[i]my life. I can't sell.

MR MARSHALL stands up and puts the piece of paper down on the desk.

JOYCE

Look, we all feel attached to our past, but it's the future that's the real adventure, and –

MR MARSHALL

Sorry, not sellin'. And I ain't buyin' that crap either, lady.

JOYCE

Well, if that's your decision, what can I say?

JOYCE holds out a hand. MR MARSHALL smiles and takes it.

JOYCE

I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your life... What little there is left of it.

The smile leaves MR MARSHALL's face as JOYCE grips his hand tightly. MR MARSHALL grimaces in pain and he stares in surprise as JOYCE takes on MR MARSHALL's form. JOYCE snaps MR MARSHALL's neck and he falls onto the chair, dead. JOYCE, still in MR MARSHALL's form, signs the contract.

JOYCE

See? As promised...

JOYCE transforms back into the female body and holds the form up to George.

JOYCE

On the dotted line. What?

George: Well... maybe you were a little quick on the trigger? First the woman at the antique shop, and now this. I mean, you know that Mr. Roman doesn't like us calling attention to ourselves...

JOYCE stares hard at George.

George: So, what should I do with the body?

JOYCE

There. That's the attitude. Okay. Take Mr. Marshall and his stinky cigar home and put them in bed. Oh. And, George? Make sure the cigar is lit. You know, burning hot.

ACT THREE

[i]INT. BICKLEBEE REALTY OFFICE – NIGHT

There are flashing lights and sirens outside the window.

JOYCE

There goes Mr. Marshall. Should've quit smoking. Can be hazardous to your health.

JOYCE laughs, then takes a sip of her coffee and coughs.

JOYCE

Do you know how many assistants I've had since taking this body, George?

George: Maybe three?

JOYCE

Five. I leave it to your imagination what happened to the first four.

George: Was something wrong with the brew?

JOYCE

You tell me. What did I ask for?

George: A hot cup of coffee.

JOYCE

That's right. Got the coffee part. But did I say "hot," or, I don't know, "tepid"?

JOYCE hands George the coffee cup.

JOYCE

Four, George. Just saying. So go to that nice barista on Main and get me a Grande non-fat no-whip white mocha, one pump sugar-free, double-shot espresso, 'kay?

George: Sure. Um, t-that's all the way across town.

JOYCE

Okay!

George: I won't be back till 9.

JOYCE

See you at 8:45.

EXT. ROAD – NIGHT

Sam is driving a pick-up truck. He yawns and turns on some loud rock music. His phone rings and he turns the music off before answering it.

Sam (on phone): Hey, what's up? I'm on my way.

Dean is sitting in a café, using the laptop and drinking coffee. The scene alternates between Sam driving and Dean in the café.

Dean (on phone): Yeah, not sure we're taking the safe out of town just yet.

A Waitress refills Dean's coffee cup.

Waitress: Here you go.

Dean: Thanks.

Dean (on phone): Um, so, it turns out that mama hoarder didn't just die and leave the store to Scott.

Sam (on phone): She didn't?

Dean (on phone): No, listen to this. The lady spends 40 years trying to keep that place, right? Then one day she wakes up and sells. Next day, drives her car off a cliff.

Sam (on phone, yawning)

So, uh... What, you think somebody cut her brakes or something?

Dean (on phone): No, I think the world is full of hilarious coincidences. Oh, and there's this new company – never even tasted real estate…

Dean's laptop screen shows the Bicklebee Realty web page.

Dean (on phone): …just gobbled up a huge chunk of Main Street. Now, I could be off the deep end here, but doesn't that seem weird to you?

Sam doesn't respond.

Dean (on phone): Sam? Sam?

Sam (on phone): Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Yeah, sounds good. Keep me posted.

Dean (on phone): Sounds good? Are you all right?

Sam (on phone): You know they say that, uh, sleep deprivation is an "enhanced interrogation technique"?

Dean (on phone): Yeah.

Sam (on phone): Trust me, it's torture.

Sam hangs up.

INT. CAFE – NIGHT

Dean clicks on "Corporate Contact" on the Bicklebee Realty web page. A message pops up reading "We're sorry, the site you are trying to access has been blocked."

Dean: Son of a bitch.

Dean makes a call to Frank. The scene alternates between the café and Frank's trailer. Frank is eating from a can.

Frank (on phone): This better be good.

Dean (on phone): Frank, hey, I don't mean to double-dip in your crazy sauce. No offense.

Frank (on phone): None taken, fudge pop.

Dean (on phone): But I think I found something.

Frank (on phone): My silence is your cue, Dean.

Dean (on phone): All right, so, there's this new company that's buying up a whole bunch of, uh, mom-'n'-pops in Portland, but I hit a firewall when I tried to access its site. Think you can crack it?

Frank (on phone): Can a dog play poker?

Dean (on phone): I don't...

Frank (on phone): The answer is yes. What's the company name?

Dean (on phone): Uh, Geothrive, Inc.

On the laptop screen above the firewall message is the company logo, which reads: "Geothrive Inc. Innovative Technology for the Future."

EXT. ROAD – NIGHT

Sam is driving while clearly very sleepy. He almost overshoots a bend, blinks several times, then nods off. A large truck is coming towards him and the driver honks the horn. Sam nearly collides with the truck before he wakes and veers sharply to the side.

EXT. COFFEE StanD – NIGHT

The BARISTA puts two pumps of something into a coffee cup.

George: Wait! I said one pump sugar-free, not two.

BARISTA

Extra pump's on the house.

George: That's very nice, but my boss is gonna be able to tell, okay, so please just make me a new one.

BARISTA

There's people in line, and I'm here all alone, so... enjoy the free pump.

George: How 'bout make me a new one?

BARISTA

How 'bout you eat me?

George: Don't tempt me. You're lucky I'm late.

BARISTA

So lucky. Next.

Sam: Can I get a, uh, a-a triple red-eye, please?

BARISTA

It's your funeral.

George turns and looks at Sam, then hurries away.

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ANTIQUE STORE – NIGHT

Sam gets out of the pick-up truck, which is parked outside the antique store. Scott comes to the door of the store.

JOYCE (on phone): What are you talking about, George? Where's my coffee?

George is watching from across the street. The scene alternates between the street and Bicklebee Realty.

George (on phone): I am seriously not kidding.

JOYCE (on phone): And you're sure it's him?

George (on phone): Of course I'm sure. Sam Winchester is going into that antique shop we just bought.

Sam walks into the store, carrying a wooden box.

George (on phone): Y-you think they're here for us?

JOYCE (on phone): No. Trust me. If the Winchesters were here for us, we'd know.

George (on phone): I am going to enjoy this.

JOYCE (on phone): Enjoy? Enjoy what, George?

George (on phone): Well... eating him is pretty much what I was thinking.

JOYCE (on phone): What?! No!

JOYCE hangs up.

George (on phone): No?

JOYCE (on phone): Come back to the office. Now.

INT. BICKLEBEE REALTY – NIGHT

JOYCE

We have a chain of command here, George. You see a Winchester, you don't eat him. You tell me, and I[i]eat him. What do you think, I'm gonna tell Dick, "I think he ate him, but I didn't see it"? What, I'm supposed to vouch for [i]you,[i]George? Like you're not one dumb move away from a bibbing already? Come on.

George: But I –

JOYCE

Oh, no!

George: But –

JOYCE

No!

JOYCE holds up her hand to forestall any further protests and makes little hand motions while soundlessly saying "No, no, no, no, no, no." George starts to speak, but JOYCE cuts him off.

JOYCE

Hoo!

JOYCE takes the coffee from George and takes a sip.

JOYCE

Ohh! Two pumps. Really, George?

[i]INT. CAFE – NIGHT

Dean is looking at a pie in display container while talking on the phone. The scene alternates between the café and Frank's trailer, where Frank is sitting in front of his computers.

Dean (on phone)

Frank, tell me you got something.

Frank (on phone)

No, I'm calling with the Lakers-Celtics score.

Dean (on phone)

What?

Frank (on phone)

'Course I got something. I figured out why you hit that firewall.

Dean walks back to his table.

Dean (on phone)

My silence is your cue, Frank.

Frank (on phone)

Oh, touché. So, you were trying to access the Geothrive internal site, and the reason why you couldn't is 'cause, if you dig down deep, it's all Dick.

Dean (on phone)

Yeah, well, that'd be helpful if you didn't say that about everything.

There is a picture of Dick Roman on FRANK's computer screen.

Frank (on phone)

Yeah, except I'm operating on hard fact now, wise-ass.

Dean (on phone)

So you're tellin' me that Geothrive is part of Roman, Inc.?

Frank (on phone)

It's a conglomerate within a subsidiary within a conglomerate. It's all tied together, Dean.

Dean (on phone)

So, what, Leviathans are – are Walmart-ing mom-'n'-pops?

Frank (on phone)

And bingo was his name-o. Ahh!

Dean (on phone)

So, we've got a big ol' field in Wisconsin and a bunch of friggin' shops in Portland? What the hell are they up to?

Sam pulls up and parks outside the café.

Frank (on phone)

Beats me. All I know is it's corporate and smelly as the day is long. If I were you, I'd get out of Dodge, pronto.

Dean (on phone)

People are dying here, Frank.

Frank (on phone)

Sure, every second. Check the obesity stats. That town ain't nothin' special.

Dean (on phone)

Well, we're not done here, okay, and, hey, we might get some answers.

Frank (on phone)

Fine. Call me if you don't die.

Sam joins Dean at the table.

Sam: So?

Dean

Well, that'll work.

Sam: Um, how's it going?

Dean

I just got off the phone with Frank. Apparently, we have a bit of a Leviathan issue in this town.

Sam: Leviathans, here?

Dean

Yeah. We're lookin' at a big, old giant nesting doll of Dick, as far as property sales go.

Sam looks away and sighs.

Dean

Hey, you hearing me?

Sam: Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm sorry.

Dean

Okay, you know what? Enough with the insomnia crap. All right, Pacino? You need to crash. I'll keep working. You find a motel and get some sleep. Okay?

Sam: It doesn't matter what I do, Dean. Lucifer will not shut up.

Dean

Even now?

Sam: He's singing "Stairway to Heaven" right now.

Dean

Good song.

Dean

Not 50 times in a row.

Dean

Hmm.

Sam's phone rings.

Sam (on phone)

Hey, Scott.

The scene alternates between the café and the antique store.

Scott (on phone)

Please, Sam. Y-you got to help me.

Sam (on phone)

What's happening?

Scott (on phone)

I looked in one of my mom's old mirrors, and now I want to rip my face off! I think it was cursed.

Sam (on phone)

All right, hold tight. Uh, we're on our way.

Dean

Let me guess. He touched something he was not supposed to.

Dean puts some bills down on the table.

Sam: 'Course he did.

Dean

Uh.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE – NIGHT

Scott: Was, uh... was that okay?

JOYCE and George are in the store, standing with their arms crossed.

JOYCE

Well, not exactly Oscar-worthy, but... I was convinced. Not that it matters, because you don't have any more lines.

JOYCE takes off her scarf and stuffs it into SCOTT's mouth.

George: Now what?

JOYCE

Now we wait for meal service.

ACT FOUR

INT. ANTIQUE STORE – NIGHT

Scott is taped to a chair. George tapes SCOTT's mouth shut.

George: So... one more body we're gonna have to spirit away, huh?

JOYCE

Actually, no. As you so helpfully[i]pointed out earlier, Dick doesn't like making the papers.

George: Right, so what's the plan?

JOYCE

Well, we can't have Scott here running his mouth. Loose lips, yada, yada, yada. We will kill him.

Scott makes a noise.

JOYCE

But that doesn't mean anyone ever has to notice he's dead. Pack your bags, Georgie. You are turning into one Scott Freeman…

JOYCE crouches down next to Scott and strokes his cheek.

JOYCE

…for the next, oh, 30-some-odd years. Right, Scotty?

[i]EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ANTIQUE STORE – NIGHT

Sam and Dean pull up outside the store in the pick-up, with the U-Haul attached. Sam is driving. They hurry inside.

INT. ANTIQUE STORE – NIGHT

Dean

So much for the cursed mirror.

JOYCE

Sam and Dean. It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintances. Now, just so you can put names to the faces that'll be eating you, I'm Joyce, and this is my assistant, George.

Dean

Oh, you're the – you're the lady from the real-estate signs.

JOYCE

Yes. You like my photo?

Dean

Oh, you might want to lay off the whitening strips.

JOYCE

Oh, Dean. I am gonna enjoy picking you out of my teeth.

JOYCE's face transforms. She grabs Dean and throws him into a glass cabinet. George throws Sam over a desk. Sam punches George and Dean hits JOYCE with an urn. George grabs Sam around the throat.

George: There's a bucket of that stuff that you love throwing at us right there. Dunk me, before she sees.

JOYCE throws Dean onto a table, which breaks. Sam dunks GEORGE's head in the bucket. JOYCE looks disgusted. George lifts his head. His face is burning.

George: The sword.

JOYCE throws Dean through some glass doors.

George: The sword!

Sam breaks a display cabinet holding a sword. As JOYCE is advancing on Dean, Sam uses the sword to cut off her head.

Dean

Uh. Thanks.

Dean puts JOYCE's head in a bag and puts the bag in the safe.

Scott: Okay, I get that these things mean business, you know, but I can't just, like, uproot my life.

Dean

Sure you can. It's not as hard as you think.

Sam: Look, Scott. These big mouths don't like to leave loose ends.

Dean

So don't you look back till you get someplace where you don't speak the language.

Scott: All right. I'm going. Thank you, I guess.

Sam: Don't mention it.

Sam: (to George) One minute. That's how long you have to explain to us why you helped us.

George: Because I am dying to know what that bitch tastes like.

Dean

Wait, let me get this straight. You want to eat your boss?

George: You got a better way to make her stay dead?

Sam: So, what? So now you're – you're on our side or something?

George: Yeah. No. But if Joyce is alive, then I spend the rest of my life cleaning her messes. Or worse, I get eaten. Or bibbed. So, thanks... for chopping her head off for me. Taking her on solo – yikes. So, really, thanks for the assist there. And, of course, (to Dean) you're welcome... for saving you... before she ripped into your ass like a Christmas present. Win-win, right? So how 'bout that head?

Dean

Yeah, not gonna happen, Georgie.

Sam holds the sword to GEORGE's throat.

Dean

Now... what the hell is Dick Roman building in Wisconsin?

George: I don't know. I barely know where Wisconsin is.[i]I'm a West-Coast representative.

Sam: You gonna keep killing people who don't sign on the dotted line?

George: All right, take it easy.

George touches the sword and tastes the blood it leaves on his finger.

George: Mmm. Killing people isn't part of the agenda. Joyce just kept getting impatient. You – you got nothing to worry about with me. Don't you get it? You guys are freaking out about the wrong thing.

Dean

Oh, you think?

George: A couple of real-estate deals? Come on. Big picture, guys. You – you think it's just here? It's everywhere. And it's a lot more ambitious than this little project. My advice – keep your heads down and stay down.

Dean

Listen to me, you gooey son of a bitch. You're gonna tell us what you're building here, or I'm gonna wash your mouth out with soap.

George: Hmm. I was hoping we could play nice. But if you must know... it's going to be a research center.

Dean

Research for what?

George: Disease. This, gentlemen, is where we are going to cure cancer.

Sam: Wait. That doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would Dick Roman want to cure cancer?

George: 'Cause we're only here to help.

ACT FIVE

[i]EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ANTIQUE STORE – DAY

Dean closes the door of the U-Haul, which contains the safe.

Dean

Monsters cure cancer. A sentence I never thought I'd say. Why does it make me so nervous?

Sam: Yeah, I hear you. So, what do we do now?

Dean

You are gonna sleep on it – all the way to Frank's. Capiche?

Sam: I wish I could.

Dean

Did you get any sleep last night?

Sam: Yeah. Yeah. A little. I-I don't know.

Dean

Well, we'll find you a soft-rock station. Always knocks you right out.

[Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Rising" plays]

They get into the pick-up and drive away.

♪ I see a bad moon rising ♪
♪ I see trouble on the way ♪

EXT. WOODS – NIGHT

♪ I see earthquakes and lightning ♪
♪ I see a bad time today ♪
♪ Don't go 'round tonight ♪
♪ Well, it's bound to take your life ♪

They pull up outside FRANK's trailer and get out.

♪ There's a bad moon on the rise ♪
♪ I hear hurricanes a-blowin' ♪

Dean

Hey, Frank!

Dean pounds on the door.

Dean

Devereaux!

♪ I know the end is comin' soon ♪

Dean

What the hell is he doing in there?

Dean knocks on the door again.

♪ I fear rivers overflowing ♪

Dean

Frank! Don't shoot! We're coming in!

♪ I hear the voice of rage and ruin ♪
♪ Don't go 'round tonight ♪

INT. Frank's TRAILER – NIGHT

There is bloody, broken glass on the floor.

♪ Well, it's bound to take your life ♪
♪ There's a bad moon on the rise ♪
♪ All right ♪

The trailer has been trashed and there is blood on the walls and the computer screens, one of which still displays Dick Roman's picture.

Dean

Not good.

♪ There's a bad moon on the rise ♪

END