Robin’s Rambles: “Time After Time”

We review Bobby’s death, in all its sad detail. NOW: Dean and Sam, stalking Dick, are ready to kill him. The plan? Don’t die, says Dean, as he orders Sam to take the street while he takes the alley–they’ll meet in the middle. Dean finds Dick in the middle of something involving a red flare and a victim, runs in to save him. “Son of a . . .” says Dean. Sam comes upon them just in time to see both Dick and his brother disappear into nothing. “DEAN?!” shouts Sam, his breath showing in the cold air.
 
Two Days Earlier – Dean, beer at his side, is reading about Dick in the FINANCIAL MARKET WATCH. Sam, asleep, answers the ringing phone. Don’t give me that dirty diaper look, I ain’t callin ya, Dean tells his sleepy brother. It’s Jody Mills, with a case that “smells like you boys,” with a case that turned up in Canton, Ohio. The locals are trying to bury the story and the body. What’s up with the body? Sam asks her. When it went missing, it was a perfectly normal grad student, Charles Durbin, when it turned up, the body was mummified, she explains, minus the wrapping, and this was the second body that turned up this way in the past couple of weeks–sounds like a tune you boys step to? Sounds like our number, Sam agrees, but wonders how a Sioux Falls sheriff ended up on an Ohio case. I’m just nosy, she says, but after everything I’ve been through with you boys and (through tears) with Bobby, it caught my eye. Sam promises to check into it and get back to her. Sheriff Mills caught us one, Sam tells Dean. I feel bad, we didn’t get her anything, quips Dean. Sam’s hoping Dean is watching cartoon smut, because reading Dick Roman is just self-punishment. It’s called anime, and it’s an art form, says Dean, closing the laptop defensively. Uh huh, Sam nods.

Canton, OH – They pull up to a condemned, fence surrounded house with a no-trespassing sign on it. “This is nice,” says Dean sarcastically, “try around back?” They drag a table to the front room. Sam tells his brother there’s a semi-functioning bathroom and one non-rancid bedroom. Dean asks for the definition of semi-functioning, and warns him not to use the words “hole in floor.” (LMAO!) It’s time for a game of rock, paper scissors for the brothers as to who gets the nicer bedroom; Sam wins.
 
Sam tosses a sleeping mat down on the floor. Dean enters. “How does paper beat a rock?” he grumbles–“it’s stupid.” They look in a folder. “Kids playing hide and seek found the body,” says Sam. “Wow, very King Tut,” says Dean of the mummified corpse. “This is where the eyewitness to the assault lives,” says Sam, pointing to the house in front of them, “but cops are calling him an unreliable witness–and that’s all I know.” They knock at the door and introduce themselves as Agents Smith and Smith, no relation. The man who answers has a crocheted blanket on his shoulders and wants to talk outside; his mom’s sleeping inside. He’s sure they’re going to laugh at his story, just like “the suits”. Dean assures them they won’t laugh–but he does smile. “I’m on the steps, medicating, when I hear fighting, so I look–there’s my neighbor, Durbin, and some dude dressed like my grandpa, fighting, he’s got him by the neck, right?” “What do you mean, dressed like your grandpa?” asks Dean. “Snappy shoes, suit, one of those Justin Timberlake hats.”  “A fedora?” asks Sam. That was it! “Did you see anything else?” asks Sam. “This red ENERGY passed through Durbin TO hat guy–even my watch stopped! Then he aged before my eyes! He looked like a raisin!” “We believe you,” says Sam. Dean thanks him for his help. “Thank you, officers,” the other man says. WOW, says Dean as they leave. Now they know why unreliable.

They do some research in the house they confiscated (but what gorgeous stained glass windows), but Dean finds nothing that, as he puts it, turns anyone into a Cryptkeeper. Sam has found Canton to be a hot spot for weird dead bodies. He shows Dean 3 deaths cited as spontaneous combustion in 1928, bodies shriveled despite no sign of fire. “A little stretch, but okay,” says Dean, opening a beer. “1974, three bodies found with leathery decay,” says Sam, ’57, “three more, severe dehydration, a girl named Terry Cervantes found a corpse near her church in a front-page story.”  “Any pattern here, other than location?” asks Dean. “Random vics, random years,” answers Sam, “they seem to drop in threes.” “Two down one to go,” points out Dean. “Let me drive for a sec,” says Dean, taking the computer in front of him. “More anime, or are you strictly into Dick now?” asks Sam. (OMG, HOW DID THE CENSORS LET THEM GET AWAY WITH THAT LINE? – From Alice, this is The CW.  Unwatched networks can get away with pretty much anything anymore!) Dean gives him a quick weird look, taps a few keys and then gives him a triumphant look. “Those local feeds?” asks Sam, impressed. “Yeah,” says Dean. “How did you do that so fast?” asks Sam.  “Little tutorial from Frank,” says Dean. Seeing the stunned look on Sam’s face, Dean says, “Don’t worry, pretend this never happened. (Tee!) Mummy numero dos was found at a Gas and Sip near Main Street,” outlines Dean, and picks up the camera feeds at that store. “You need to teach me that trick,” says Sam. “Check it out,” says Dean, “Timberlake.” “Wait a sec,” says Sam, pulling the computer to look at it. “Can’t let me bask in the glory for one second, can ya?” asks Dean. “Shut up,” says Sam–“look.” He shows him the same man on the screen in the same hat the weird man had described to them. “He hasn’t aged a day, has he?” says Dean. “All right, if he’s been poppin up for decades now, then someone’s bound to know who he is, right?–Is there a chance Terry’s still local?”
 
“It’s so pretty in the spring,” says Terry, “everything’s blooming–that’s why I walked home that way–to see the flowers–instead, I found that body–I still have no idea what could have done that to a person.” Dean asks her if she recognizes the guy in the fedora in the newspaper photo. “He lived on my parents’ street–Mr. Snyder,” she says.

Sam and Dean stake out the house Terry directs them to (and Sam is seen eating a burger!), and have arrived at the beginning, two days ago, where the episode first started. Dean struggles with the man, spying a ring on his finger as they battle. When Dean gives chase, however, he exits the alleyway to find he is no longer in 2012 Canton, Ohio. The street is teeming with people in unfamiliar clothing, and a police officer dressed in garb definitely not of his own time orders him to drop his gun. All right, says Dean, flabbergasted, and does so.   
 
(Old-time 40’s music plays.) Dean, handcuffed, has claimed to be from “the Bureau,” but the man who has captured him, going through everything he’s found on his person, including the weapons, isn’t buying it and commands him to shut up. Seeing NO SIGNAL pop up on his cell phone, he asks him if he’s some kind of Gerry spy, but Dean doesn’t even know what that is. His FBI badge is issued 68 years from now. Ace work, crow muncher.   Dean figures out the year by counting on his fingers. We’re stuck in 1944? he asks. We’re all stuck in 1944, ya bunny, the man snarls at him. He tells the cop to “take a powder” and asks Dean what happened in the alley–“and paint me a real picture.” Dean tells him he doesn’t even like sauerkraut and that he’s 12 MONKEYS no matter what he says, so here goes. “I was chasin’ this dude, I just saw him mummify a guy, so I jumped him, he lights up red, and poof–1944.” The man takes off his hat. “Tell me more about the red light,” he asks.  “You want out of this jail, tell me everything you can about that man, and this’ll cut light.” “Okay,” says Dean, “I saw it, and then we were here.”  “Would you say that it was all around you, or that it came from inside this fella?” the other man asks. “You believe me,” realizes Dean.  “You’re a hunter.” “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” the other man says. “Demons, ghosts, shifters,” says Dean, “I’ve killed ’em all, and you’re the same–just 68 years before me.” They introduce themselves. The other man is none other than Eliot Ness!

Back where he’s squatting, Sam is making his wall of weird for the case and now, to help locate Dean. His phone rings. He answers “DEAN?” without looking at caller ID, but it’s Jody, who asks what happened to Dean. Sam hurriedly explains that the ball of light that been mummifying people took him.  She asks if he and Dean get that a lot. “More than most people,” he says, pacing the room. She figures she got him into this and offers to help. “How do you feel about driving and lifting boxes?” he asks.
 
Like an excited little boy, Dean tells Ness UNTOUCHABLES is one of his favorite movies ever, saw it 50 times, but the other man is clueless about that. Eliot wants to know about time travel, but Dean says that’s a rarity–I’m as surprised as you are that I’m here. “So we’re hunting the same thing, just in different centuries,” says Eliot. They spread the files on the table. “Two bodies a few days apart, just a little over a month ago, one eye witness said she saw an assailant light up red–after sucking the life out of him.”  “Awesome,” says Dean. “How does that fill you with awe?” asks Ness. This thing kills in threes, they both realize. “That’s two down,” says Eliot–“you’re coming with me, we’ve got to grab this thing before it grabs the last one.”  “Does this mean I’m an untouchable now?” asks Dean, delighted. “It means we gotta get you some new clothes, you look like some Bindlestiff,” says Ness. “Stiff your. . .what?” asks Dean, defensively. Ness takes Dean to his lady tailor, Ezra Moore who thinks he’s some farmer clown. “He’s from the future,” explains Eliot.  “Where gas is 4 dollars a gallon, you can get cheese from a spray can, the president is a black guy–I could go on,” blathers Dean. “Ink me impressed,” says Moore, “I’d say we need some clothes.”
 
Jody has come to Sam bearing gifts–over 20 cartons overflowing with books. “I think Bobby might have had a slight hoarding issue, I could hardly get the door open in that storage locker,” she says–“and I’m pretty sure something’s alive in at least three of those boxes.” (I can only imagine, sniff; oh, Bobby!)

 
Dressed to the nines in a new suit, Dean admires himself in the mirror. “Awesome,” he says. “Is he a religious kook?” asks Moore. “He just likes saying that,” Ness explains. “What bucket of syrup did you idjits step into?” she asks him. Gazing at himself in the mirror, Dean chuckles. “Somethin’ funny, sweetheart?” Moore asks, brushing imaginary dust off the jacket. “No, you just kinda remind me of someone,” Dean answers. (Aw, she called him idjit!) “We need your help, Ezra, it seems we’re hunting a time traveler,” says Ness. She’s on it. (I just love this gal–no-nonsense, competent, a gal who not only can whip up a magnificent suit in no time at all, but who apparently can do the same with supernatural elements, too!)
 
Researching on the computer, Jody has found a ring on the man’s finger. ” know that symbol,” says Sam.
 
“It’s the infinite hourglass,” says Ezra. “That’s the symbol I saw on his ring,” says Dean. “That’s the mark of Chronos,” explains Ezra.

“The God of time,” says Sam. “It’s crazy,” says Jody. “The thing is,” says Sam, “with the old gods, once upon a time they were just short of invincible, but they got a lot of their mojo from worshipers, from people feeding them.” “These days, not so much,” says Jody. “Right,” says Sam, “they’re not what they used to be, but they make up for lack of power by being twice as pissed, and a lot more hands-on.” “Okay,” she says, “so why is this guy killing people?”
 
“Could be he’s killin’ folks for his time juice,” opines Ezra. “How am I going to ride him back to 2012?” asks Dean, pocketing a flask. “You could let him grab you, if you don’t mind him using you for gasoline,” says Ezra.
 
“So how do we get Dean back, how do we even find this Chronos?” demands Jody. “First step,” says Sam, “find a way to summon a god.” (Hold on a second, pun intended. Sam has summoned his share of gods–Gabriel, aka The Trickster, and he isn’t the only one. It wouldn’t have sounded so much like a continuity error if Sam said he needed to know how to summon THIS god.)  
 
“Let’s just stick with what we know,” advises Ness, “Ezra, see if you can find something in all this junk that can kill a god.” “No trouble at all,” she says, “come in a few hours, see what I can scrounge up.” (I like this gal; nothing fazes her, and she seems invincible.) “You said you fellas found this house, “says Ness, slipping on a pair of gloves, “let’s go see if it’s been built yet and let’s go kill that bastard, because that. . .” “. . .is the Chicago way,” finishes Dean, tipping on his hat in a very sexy manner. “Chicago way?” repeats Ezra mockingly. “Who talks like that?” demands Ness. “Sean Connery,” says Dean, accent and all. “Come on,” says Ezra, helping him on with his coat. “I’ll never watch that movie again,” says Dean, hurt. He grabs his gun and heads out.

At the door, Dean says, “It looks empty–you got a lock pick?” “Sure,” answers Ness, and kicks open the door. (LOL, 1944 lock pick at your service. I just loved that!) “He makes a lot of lettuce to support this,” comments Ness. They enter the house and look around. Dean picks up a ledger and realizes the man is winning on races he already knows the outcome of–like Biff in BACK TO THE FUTURE. He spent a lot of time in ’44, notes Ness. What’s LY? asks Dean, pointing it out in the ledger. “That’s a who,” says Ness, “a flunkie who lays down bets–let’s go pay him a visit.” 

They go pick up Lester, a character straight out of a 1940’s movie, down to the baby-face and silly voice. Dean shoves him into a chair and looms warningly over him. “I ain’t talkin’,” Lester tells them, “I’m no stoolie.” Dean punches him in the face to change his mind, knocking him out of the chair. Seeing Ness’ disapproving face, Dean says, “I learned it from watching you.” Ness seats Lester back in his chair and tells him, “Look, you seem like a swell guy, and I want to help you, I really do, but my partner here, he just got back from the war, spent the last two years kickin’ in Nazi skulls; if he don’t kick in a skull every coupla days, he gets real touchy.” Dean has taken off his coat jacket. Now he asks, “Lester. . .is that a GERMAN name?” “Okay, okay, no need to snap your cap,” says Lester nervously, “who you lookin’ for?” “Guy by the name of Snyder,” supplies Ness. “That guys?” asks Lester–“guy never missed a bet, so I paid him off.” “Where did you meet him for the payoff?” demands Ness. When Lester doesn’t answer right away, Dean makes a threatening fist gesture. “The Early Bird!” says Lester hastily, “the dive on Haggerty.”

Jody and Sam, in the midst of doing research, both let out exclamations. “Yours sounds better, you first,” says Sam. She reads, “It says here that people could summon Chronos to compel him to tell them their futures.” “And I’ve got the spell to do it right here,” says Sam. “So why the damn it? Jody asks. “‘Cause calling Chronos isn’t the problem,” says Sam, “it’s making sure we summon him when Dean is right there, literally with his hands on the guy so he can surf him back.” “That’s not automatic?” she asks. “No, it’s more like we need to get the time on their end right to the exact second,” says Sam. “Or we get an angry god but no big brother,” outlines Jody. “And Dean is trapped there forever,” finishes Sam glumly. They lean back dejectedly in their seats. Jody finds a bottle of booze with a note on it: “FINE, YOU ASS, YOU WIN FOR ONCE–ENJOY. R.” Dean explains that R is Rufus, a family friend. (Jody met him in an earlier episode, jailed him, as I recall.) “I wonder what they were bettin’ over,” says Sam. “Whatever it was, Rufus sure was a sore loser,” she observes. Sam grins. Yeah, he chuckles. “It’s weird, huh,” says Jody, gazing at the bottle, “it’s like their life’s a big puzzle, just keep finding pieces of it scattered all over the place–we should drink this–they’d want us to. Am I wrong?” “It would be rude not to,” agrees Sam, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. (That was such a touching scene!)
 
Dean and Ness stake out the Early Bird, watching Snyder. Kind of puny for a god, observes Ness, offering Dean a swig from his flask, Dean says, I thought you were Mr. Boy Scout. Why do you think I went after Capone in the first place?–he had the best hooch in Chicago, grins Ness. So who died in your life and made you a hunter? asks Dean. Nobody died, you morbid son-of-a-bitch, says Ness–I started doin’ this because vampires were turnin’ folks, in Cleveland–that’s when I got the bug. Taking another hit from the flash, Elliot adds, sometimes you want to punch through the red tape with a silver bullet–yeah, hunting sets me–isn’t that why you hunt? I used to do it because that’s what my family did, explains Dean, but they just seem to keep dyin’–to tell you the truth, I don’t know why I’m doing much of anything anymore. Boo hoo, says Ness, cry me a river, ya Nancy–tell me, are all hunters as soft as you in the future? Everybody loses everybody and then one day, boom, your number is up. But at least you’re making a difference. So enjoy it while it lasts, kid, because hunting is the only clarity you’re going to find in this life. That makes you luckier than most.(That’s a lot better hunter speech than Frank gave him last week, less dangerous, more honorable, words to live, not die, by.)

They realize that the blond in the long red coat has left the diner. Snyder follows not long after, hot on her pretty heels. Dean and Ness retrieve their weapons from the latter’s trunk, the orderly contents of which cause Dean to exclaim, “Sweet merciful awesome!” It appears that Snyder is going in for the attack when Snyder takes the woman into his arms and they begin to smooch.
 
Ness asks questions and returns to Dean, who is waiting in the car. Everything’s coming up us, kid, he says hsppily. Talk to me, urges Dean. I am, says Ness, confused. The owner of the house, Lila Taylor, age 20, lives alone, explains Ness–take the car, go back to Ezra’s, see what she’s got, I’m gonna stay here and keep my peepers on the Sheik and Sheba (?).  
 
That’s it? Dean asks Ezra, gazing at a pointy branch between them on a table. That is a thousand-year-old olive branch carved by vestal virgins and dipped in the blood of… you don’t want to know,” she says–“pulling this together wasn’t easy. You and Ness both owe me, smoothie. You can have whatever you want, says Dean, soon as we gank this thing. Yeah, yeah, take your twig, wise guy, she says. Well how’s it work? asks Dean. You stick this end in his heart, she says–miss, he has you for supper. If I kill Chronos, I’m stuck here? he asks. You just now realized? says Ezra–aw, come on, 1944 ain’t that bad. Yeah, says Dean, head over to Europe, punch Hitler in the neck. Oh, there’s lots of ways to pass the time, Sugar, she assures him, taking his lapels in her hands, drawing him close and kissing him. That’s for luck, she says, wiping her lipstick off his mouth, ’cause I’m lucky. Thanks, he says, wiping his mouth as though trying to wipe away her kiss. (I sure wish I had been her, but I’d like to think Dean would have been happier taking my kiss.) Dean puts on his hat expertly, with a flourish to the brim, and sees mail on the table under it. BACK TO THE FUTURE III, he says, smiling–I need to borrow some paper.

Ness, waiting outside for Dean, is attacked by Snyder, trying to wrestle his gun away from him. “I stopped by the police station to take care of that hunter who rode in here,” Snyder says breathless, “heard you took him out of jail–thought I might see you again. They get into it with fisticuffs, and it’s clear that Snyder is stronger. He soon has rendered Ness unconscious amidst a pile of discarded bottles and other debris in a woodshed. The blond woman Snyder was kissing comes out of the house, calling for him: “Ethan?” Can’t take the trash out without taking the trash, silly,” she says. “Sorry, honey, I don’t know where I left my head,” he apologizes. When he turns to take care of his prisoner, however, Ness is gone and Snyder is rip-roaring angry.
 
We see a feminine hand working on a grandfather clock. You know how you’re always asking me where I go? Snyder says–come with me, tonight. Is everything okay? she asks, nervous. Perfect, he assures her, you’re perfect. She giggles self-consciously. Pack a bag, I’ll explain later, okay? he says. But the diner, she starts to say. FORGET ABOUT THEM! he explodes momentarily, then adds, more calmly, you’ll call in tomorrow–just go, pack. Unnerved, she goes to do as ordered.

Dean pulls up to the house where he and Sam will one day be squatting, hastily shows a badge to the man who answers the announces himself as Special Agent Costner, with the Department of Homeland Termite Invasion. There’s been an outbreak all over this area and I must secure the perimeter. Although the guy thinks he’s nuts, Dean wangles his way upstairs, goes to the room that Sam won in their rock/paper/scissors game, moves a bed away from a wall, lies down where Sam will one day lie, pulls out a knife, flicks it open and has to assure the man, who has followed him upstairs, that he is installing something that will protect this house forever.
 
Back in the present, Jody lugs in some more books and a couple of cups of coffee. You are toast, she says, finding Sam asleep on his arms on the table. She orders him to go get some shut-eye, removing the coffee cup from his hand. When she threatens to use her MOM voice, Sam goes. He collapses on his belly on the makeshift bed, but, unable to get comfortable, tosses and turns–and spots something on the molding that that makes him turn on the lamp on the floor–the name SAM carved into it. He quickly takes off the molding and finds a piece of paper underneath, which he exultantly brings downstairs to Jody. All right, you asked for it, young man, she warns. She reads the letter sent from DEAN, who is working with THE ELIOT NESS: “Sammy, turns out Chronos is Snyder’s. . .I rode him into 1944. He is banging some chick named Lila Taylor and we got a weapon, we’re going after him, take care of yourself, Sam.” It’s dated November 5, 1944, so now they have the exact date Dean had hands on Chronos. To get the exact TIME, they need to get hold of the present-date Lila.
 
They find her trying to get the Sullivan show, hoping to hear Frankie Valli. Hearing Jody is with the police, she’s worried it’s about Michael being in trouble again, but Jody assures her it’s not about Michael and comic books, but about this man. Looking at the photo, Lila identifies him as Ethan. The last time I saw him was November, 1944,11:34,  the night every clock in the house stopped–Ethan said awful things, then he strangled that poor man. Two policemen came, to arrest Ethan. Sam holds up one of Dean’s badges. Was this one of them? he asks her. Ethan choked the life out of that man, she says sadly. Now it’s Sam and Jody’s turn to look upset and scared.

Hiding behind the car, Dean hoarsely calls for Ness. Receiving no answer, he searches the shed, finding no evidence of what we saw earlier, just an empty shed. Dean picks the lock to get into the house. Spying a shadow under a door, he moves to get his gun from his jacket, but it attacked by Snyder, who tackles him. They exchange fisticuffs. “Ethan!” cries Lila, who is held captive in Ness’ grip, a gun to her heart. “Let’s talk,” suggests Ness.
 
In the room festooned with evidence from this case, Dean and Jody are gathering what they need–candles, an hourglass, books.
 
“Please don’t hurt her,” Snyder begs Ness. “Ethan, what’s happening?” asks Lila. Dean wants to know the same. “I’m sorry,” says Ethan, “it’s just everything I said to you was true.” “He might have left off a few details,” says Dean–“he tell you he’s a monster who jumps through time.” “I’m A GOD!” interrupts Ethan, turning to Lila–“I’m not a monster, I’m the opposite.”

Sam and Jody prep all the stuff they need for the spell, tossing it all onto the table.
 
“Please don’t hurt her,” Ethan begs Ness, and to Lila, “everything I said to you is true.” “You might have left a few things out,” says Dean, “did he tell you he’s a monster who jumps through time?” “I’M A GOD!” interrupts Ethan–“I’m not a monster–look, I’m the opposite.” “Tell her about all the people you murdered along the way, Boy Scout,” suggests Ness. “It’s not true, I do it for you, Lila,” insists Ethan. “I don’t understand,” cries Lila.
 
Jody and Sam spread out instructions, mix and, most importantly, Sam cuts into his palm and writes 11:34 on a piece of paper in his own blood.
 
Dean points out to Lila that Ethan isn’t as strong as he used to be, not only does he need to suck his victims dry, he has to kill THREE now, “to juice you up.” “Sacrifice,” corrects Ethan, “and I can correct when and where I land–once I get there, it’s never for long before I’m tossed through time again, Lila, and all I want is to get back here–to you.” “Because you just love the clean Canton air,” mocks Ness. “No, because I love her,” insists Ethan, “because I lived the worst existence imaginable until I found her!” “After you killed Tyler Crosby and Cathy Porter,” accuses Ness–“Lila was gonna be victim #3–don’t act like you never killed a soul before you met her, pal, something tells me you used to kill three chaps just for a change of scenery.” “Yes, I did,” admits Ethan, stepping forward. Ness warns him back. “I used to wander,” Ethan tells the crying Lila, “but now I have you.” “I knew Cathy,” sobs Lila, “she used to come into the diner every day.” Dean is waiting for his chance to jump Ethan. “Lila, please,” begs Chronos. “You are a monster!” accuses Lila. “No, Lila, please!” begs Ethan. Dean attacks, grappling with Dean for the weapon. Ness shoots Ethan twice in the back. Ethan’s hands are wrapped around Dean’s throat.

Sam is lighting a candle, mumbling in Latin. He sets on fire a paper with his blood writing 11:34 on it. It flares up between him and Jody. Inside Ethan burns bright red, and he gazes at the wooden stake on the floor. “NO!” he screams, locking his arm around Dean’s throat. The clocks stop at 11:34. “Hey! Untouchable!” yells Ness. Dean and Ethan disappear–and reappear in the same room as Jody and Sam, the weapon rolling acros the floor. “Dean!” calls Jody, rushing to his side. “Hey!” Dean calls to Chronos, punching him. Ethan deflects the punch, giving one of his own, sending Sam flying across the room. “NOOO!” yells Chronos, turning to Dean in fury–“YOU DESTROYED EVERYTHING!!!” He’s about to deliver a fatal blow to Dean when Sam calls him, stabbing him in the heart with the god-killing weapon made especially for him. “Is that the best you got?” demands Sam through gritted teeth. Chronos’ heart-light beats crimson in his chest as he sinks to the floor, the sound loud in the room. He touches the branch protruding from his body, knowing he is dying, and smiles cruelly up at Sam. “You want to know your future?” he asks the brothers, veins throbbing red in his neck, blood running from his nose, staining his teeth, “I know your future. It’s covered in thick, black ooze. It’s everywhere. They’re everywhere. Enjoy oblivion.”

Chronos falls to the floor, dead. Sam and Dean exchange glances of despair over they have heard.
             
What did I like about this episode?
 
Eliot Ness. I don’t know how accurately Mr. Lea performed him, but I loved the character and his interaction with our Dean. It was so nice to see Dean having fun for a change. He’s been so sad and depressed lately. Did he even drink from the flask with his idol? I don’t think he did, and I was wondering why not. Bad siren memories? Afraid of catching a cold? Or he just didn’t want to take away ELIOT NESS’ booze? In any case, Dean took such joy in the clothes, weapons, the trunk of Eliot’s car (although he didn’t seem all that impressed with the auto itself), his fanboy crush was a joy to watch. Even though Ness called him a Nancyboy, I think he liked Dean a lot, even his overly emo moments. Deep down, perhaps he wished he didn’t have to be so downright masculine all the time.
 
I adored Ezra Moore (what’s with the man’s name)? I assume she was wiccan, because she was able to supply Ness with way more than she should have been able to had she been just a tailor. She was Ness’ Bobby. Too bad Dean seemed to find her kiss repulsive, but it’s Sammy who goes for the older gals, usually.
 
Which brings me to my other favorite part of this ep–Jody and Sammy! I was really hoping they would pop open that booze, get drunk, and play Dean as a bad little boy and Jody as his teacher making him pay up with sex for not doing his homework or something! I sensed definite potential sexual tension between them–or am I crazy?
 
Some folks said they felt sorry for Ethan, but I’m not one of them. When we had the Christmas gods who killed and ate people, they were evil and deserved to die, so did Ethan. Same with Gabriel/Trickster, and I love that man like crazy. Whoever tagged on the idea that angels should get a pass on killing humans because they need them for their mojo juice does NOT get a pass from this columnist!
 
I mentioned briefly earlier that I like Ezra Moore, and I do. Sassy, funny, with some kind of powers besides whipping up a suit that makes Dean look positively edible. That hat? SWOON! Ezra is independent, attractive and can make stakes that kill gods. What more does a man need in a woman?
 
I give this ep a 9, Dick. It’s got a nice 40’s beat and you can dance to it, preferably with Sam and Dean.
 
Questions:
 
What do you think about Ness; philosophy on hunting? Is it better of worse than Frank’s?
 
What did you think of Lea’s portrayal of Ness and Dean’s reaction to him?  Did you enjoy this interaction as much as I did?
 
Good God, Ethan, you said you did it for the girl, Lila. What did you think of the tripe coming out of his mouth, audience?  Are you one of those who felt sorry for his character?
 
What did you think of the stoolie? I thought him funny, but a complete ripoff of every similar character I’ve ever seen. Opinion?
 
I loved the scene between Sam and Jody when they found the bottle of booze. Did that scene make you choke up, just a little? Come on, fess up!
 
What did you think of the ending?  Are you like, oh, another villain tells the brothers they are in for it, gonna die a horrible death at the hands of the Leviathans, been there, done that, the Winchesters always come out on top, they are much better than everybody else and always defy death, so cut the crap!
 
I love ya all, ya idjits. My shrink finally seems to have found the right cocktail to handle my depression and I feel like a brand-new person!
 
 
 
 
 

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