Robin’s Rambles: “Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie”

 
NOW – It’s night, dark, and Sam is running very fast from something. He sits, breathing fast, behind a car, hiding, reminding himself they can’t hurt him, they’re not real. Then, however, he stands, and there it is–a clown, laughing at him. Sam’s eyes widen in terror as he runs away, the clown with huge shoes loping after him. Sam enters a closed-in parking lot, shuts the door on the clown, moves a huge cart in front of it, But the clown pushes the door open, and, laughing, advances on Sam! There’s another one, laughing, and he’s flanked between two, in horrid, garish make-up, laughing, advancing on him. . .  

 
60 hours earlier – Sam is reading the newspaper. Dean answers a pay phone: “I am the eggman. Seriously, Frank, payphones, I’m gettin’ clap off this thing just touchin’ it. Fred Savage, really? I know, big ? everywhere. Since you asked, some actual intel on Dick Roman would be nice. Bye. Good lookin’ out.” He hangs up the phone with distaste and tells Sam, I hope he finds somethin’ soon, this whol protocol de jour is really creepin my cheese. So, asks Sam, we got dick on Dick? That’s a vivid way of putting it, says Dean, find anything on Wonder Woman? No, says Sam, and there probably won’t be, they are definitely gone, but might have found something over in Kansas. Fine, but there are rules–no babies, no baby mamas, no bars, no hot chicks of any kind, insists Dean. Sam laughs–did you just say? Hey, you see a monster baby, you see how fast you want to dive back into the pool, Dean says. 
 
A coroner pulls back a sheet from a man covered in boils, big and small. Not the fun kind of hickeys, remarks Dean. This was done by a Giant Pacific Octopus, the coroner tells them, 30 feet big. Aren’t those rare around here? asks Sam. Yet, here we are, the coroner says. What happened? asks Dean, guy comes home, cracks a beer, gets suckered to death? Freak fetish attack, says the Coroner, a guy created the hickey marks, then bled the man out (he tilts the victim’s head to reveal a gross mark on his head, below his ear, where he was bled.) Octovamp? Vampopus? are the two ideas Dean suggests to Sam when they’re alone in the corridor. Crazy even for us, says Sam. Pushing the envelope, agrees Dean. 

 
They go to speak with the widow, who serves them coffee. Dean is surprisingly kind, saying they have some routine questions for her. They ask if the house felt any different lately, cold spots, smells like sulfur? No, she says. Skeletons in her husband’s closet, anyone who might want to harm him–colleague, old flame? She stares down; Sam notices and says the tiniest detail could help. You want to know what he was up to lately? she says–ask Stacy–she was here the night he died. Stacy? repeats Sam. Our nanny, the wife says, any other questions? No, that’s. . .we’d better go, says Dean, both brothers standing. Sam thanks her for the hospitality. At the top of the stairs, a little girl takes a deep breath. Walking away from the house, Dean says, Mom, Dad, nanny, that’s a love triangle right out of Casa Erotica–of course, the jealous wife channels her feelings more productively. Sam doesn’t get. . .  What, how the wife summoned an octovamp? asks Dean. More like why, says Sam, kind of impractical, right? One of them must shake down naughty nanny, says Dean, the other shake down the house after the wife leaves. I’m on the nanny, says Sam. I’M on the nanny, insists Dean. I thought you said no hot chicks, Sam reminds him. We don’t know that she’s hot, says Dean. 
 
She is! Dean asks about her relationship with the deceased. Normal, I guess, the girl says, we mostly dealt with Deborah, the daughter–there was nothing going on. You were there late the night Brian died, says Dean. I was, the babysitter says, I stayed with Kelly, she was pretty upset; it was her birthday, we had a party at Plucky’s–Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie, a pizza chain for kids, actually, more for lazy parents. Anyway, her dad showed up for five minutes, then went back to work, and, of course, her mom was out of town. This stupid kid told Kelly her parents didn’t really love her–she freaked, I was calming her down for hours. Dean asks, did you notice anything weird at the house, even a bad feeling? She didn’t, but Kelly thinks there’s a monster in her closet, drives everyone crazy with it. 
 
On the phone, Dean tells Sam they spoke with the wrong person–the daughter is angry with her father for ditching her birthday. Birthday wish gone wrong? suggests Sam, who has a bead on the daughter as they speak. Can you do it without tripping the Amber Alert? teases Dean. 
 
Kelly is drawing in chalk on the sidewalk when Sam approaches her. I know who you are, she says, the guy that talked to my mom. Kelly’s mother is calling her. My mom will get mad if I talk to you, she says. Sam kneels. How come? he asks. Because of what I told the police, she says, I told them that I tried to warn my dad–that the monster would get him. Kelly’s mother comes out and orders her daughter into the house–now. Sam gets a pleading look from the daughter and a warning look from the mother as they enter the house. Sam checks out Kelly’s chalk-drawn artwork–an sinister faced octopus with big teeth. 

 
A white horse chases a man wearing pajamas and a robe across a football field. He climbs over a fence and hides behind a sign, sure he’s eluded his chaser. A horn appears from his chest as the animal stabs him, right through the sign–and through his back. When the horn withdraws, he falls to the ground, dead, revealing the sign, which says, CHAMPIONSHIP WINNERS. On the other side is the animal that killed him–a white unicorn, which paws the ground in triumph, a ray of light shooting through its horn and a rainbow shooting from its ass as it runs off.

 
Sam punches the clowns, and, seeing red, says, if it bleeds, you can kill it. So he shoots one of them, but all he gets is glitter. The clown he shot laughs at him and punches him in the face, then one holds him while the other punches him. 
 
36:36:07 earlier – Dean checks out the hole in the sign made by the unicorn earlier. The hoofprints I get, he tells the cop, but what ran him through? Best thing I can tell ya is something BIG the cop says. So what, like a lance? suggests Dean. Sad, says the cop, gesturing to the redhead standing nearby, gotta pull an 8 year old out of school and tell him his dad’s dead. Dean shows the man’s mother his FBI badges, and he’s Agent Jones this week. Dean asks if yesterday was her son’s birthday. No, she says tearfully, why would you ask that? But his father did take him to a friend’s birthday party yesterday, she remembers. She begins to cry and walks away. Dean calls their hotel room and asks Sam if he remembers a chain called Plucky Pennywhistles? Sam says no in that way we know he’s lying. Really? I could have sworn you loved those places, says Dean. I HATED them, corrects Sam, you would dump me and go trolling for chicks. It’s not like I left you in jail, says Dean, those places were supposed to be fun. Fun?–they were lame, and smelled like puke, and the ice cream is all grainy, complains Sam. Don’t have one of your episodes, says Dean, I hit a dead end with this witches gone wild thing, but both kids were at Plucky’s day of–you go check out the local Plucky’s and ask about this Billy kid. Sam wants to wait until Dean gets back, but Dean is going to talk to Billy. Sam suggests HE talk to Billy, and then light dawns on Dean–this isn’t about your clown thing, is it? WHAT? No, says Sam, protesting too much. Sammy? says Dean–what in the world did they do to you?–just know that 99.99% of all clowns can’t hurt you, okay?–and if it bleeds, you can kill it. If it bleeds, you can kill it, repeats Sam to himself, breathing nervously.  (From Alice – I absolutely LOVE this Polynesian themed room.  It’s now my most favorite motel room ever).  

 
Sam sits in front of Plucky’s, WHERE ALL YOUR DREAMS ARE GOOD!, according to the logo in front. I’m too old for this, he says. Inside, the first thing he sees is a clown painted on the wall. The place is filled with screaming kids–and clowns everywhere. The man at the desk greets him, Welcome to Plucky’s, where all your dreams are good. Dean shows his FBI badge and asks for the manager. A clown puppet welcomes him to Plucky’s, a giant clown head looms over him, and Sam looks like he’s going to hyperventilate. A mother asks her son to stay a couple of more hours, and opens a book for him to color. Like I can concentrate in here, he says belligerently. He notices a “draw your worst fear” board, but two are missing: Kelly and Harper and Billy and Mae(?). Real beauties, huh? asks one of the workers–we rotate ’em out once a week–kids love having their own on the wall. Draw your worst fear? asks Sam disapprovingly. I know, she says, we don’t post the truly evil stuff, just the standard stuff, like sharks and ghosts. Jean Holiday, shift manager, she introduces herself. Johnson, FBI, he says–so, why even ask the kids to draw creepy stuff to being with? Something a psychologist came up with, she says, plus the owner is obsessed with aiding kids’ development, so the place is a safe way to get kids to talk about their fears–we get them to sketch it in a box, and Plucky’s magically transforms it into rainbows and candy–personally, I think it’s a load of hooey, but they say if these fears run wild, it affects kids into their adulthood. A clown walks in front of Sam, laughing evilly, and he is spooked. Jean is smiling. Yeah, I’ve heard of that, says Sam shakily. Sam asks about Billy, who Jean recalls as the conniption kid–Billy’s dad, not the child. The father pulled the kid away before cake and presents. Billy asked to stay for another five minutes, the father pulled a full-frontal douchebag–I was embarrassed for the kid. One of the janitorial staff whistles to catch Sam’s attention. You a cop? he asks. A Fed, investigating a couple of crazy deaths. says Sam, something you want to share? Come back after closing, the guy tells him. Sam is bemused.
 
Motel room – Dean is taking out containers of Chinese food. Sam tells Dean why the two dead dads weren’t fathers of the year and about the draw your worst fear wall. Can’t argue with this, says Dean, leprechauns are deadly. So Kelly draws a monster and it goes after her father–that’s what we’re saying? Here’s the thing, says Sam, they label these, and guess which two were missing? Little Miss Octofamily, guesses Dean. Yup–Billy, says Sam, so, whatever he drew came to life and killed his dad, riding a horse. Close, but no Seabiscuit, says Dean, I went and had a little chat with Billy, and he drew me this–he unfolds a piece of paper and shows Sam a drawing of a man being impaled on a unicorn. So not unicorns are evil? asks Sam. Yeah, obviously, says Dean. Great, so how did a unicorn come off a sketch and kill Billy’s dad? asks Sam–how is any of this happening? 
 
The guy who told Sam to meet him tells Jean he’s heading out when she orders him to clean the ball pit, where some kid puked–full sanitization–do that and clock out. While he’s sucking all the balls out of the pit with a giant vacuum, something is coming at him. He cries out in pain, reaches down, comes up with a bloodstained hand. Then, like the hapless, doomed swimmer in JAWS, he’s pulled down into the pit, pulled back and forth, comes up and stares around with terrified eyes, is pulled under again. A shower of balls mixed with blood splatters the pit window. 

 
When Sam and Dean pull up, Plucky’s is surrounded by police cars, and the dead, blood-covered body of the custodian is being wheeled out on a stretcher. Dean shows his badge, asks them to wait, and looks under the sheet at the body. Sam comes over and reports that the body was found in the ball pit, blood everywhere–they think the ballwasher did it. The what? asks Dean. Sam repeats it, twice, just for Dean’s amusement. Dean shows Sam the body and the latter inhales sharply at the gruesome sight. That’s a shark bite, says Dean, and judging from the radius, I’d say a 20-footer, at least. Sam is puzzled. SHARK WEEK, man, how do you not watch that? demands Dean. Sam walks away. A whole week of sharks! says Dean. We get a big view of the BIG clown’s head. Sam pulls a name tag off the scare wall: Omar Cooper. How much do you want to bet Omar was afraid of sharks? asks Sam. Saul the janitor is connected how? asks Dean, he isn’t related to Omar. No, agrees Sam, but Saul had something he wanted to tell me. So this isn’t about ganking some dickweed parent, says Dean. More like silencing a whistleblower, says Sam.So whatever we’re looking for can literally fire off childhood fears at will, says Dean, well, watch out for evil lunch ladies. Sam takes out the EMF meter. Let’s comb this place, he says. Seriously, complains Dean, Dractopus, Seabiscuit, the Impaler, Landshark, what’s next? 
 
Tyler’s mother pulls up in front of Plucky’s and tells him he has to take the bus from here. She gives him money. But I thought. . .he begins. I can’t, she says, upset, I’m sorry, I’m late. He leaves the car and looks at her sadly. Stay out of trouble, she says. On the seat, he has left behind a drawing of a killer robot with laser eyes. 
 
NOW: The laughing clowns toss Sam across a truck, breaking the windshield. They kick and punch him back and forth between them. He grabs a tire iron from the truck and manages to hit both of them once; one of the clowns begins juggling things in front of him, confusing Sam.

 
4:34:12 earlier – Sam is on the computer, Dean is John’s journal, doing research. Maybe a Tulpa? suggests Sam. Killings too spread out, says Dean. Angel, says Sam. Too little imaginative for the God Squad, don’t you think? asks Dean, who says he’s tapped out. At least we know WHERE it is, says Sam. Plucky’s, that’s where the vics are getting picked up. We swept the place last night, and nada, says Dean. Sam suggests he go talk to the employees, see what he can dig up. What good is that going to do? asks Dean–they think you’re a Fed, the one guy who was going to talk got Bruced–anybody knows anything, they’re not gonna tell you. I’ll go back, play bad cop, really lean into ’em, says Sam, when I’m done, you watch ’em. Somebody freaks out, that’s our creep, says Dean. Or, he’ll lead us closer, and you can track him, says Sam. What’s my cover? asks Dean. I dunno, just hang up, says Sam, act normal. Sam leaves. Yeah, a guy in his 30’s hanging out at Plucky’s alone, that’s normal, grumbles Dean, not pervy at all. 
 
Jean is explaining to an employee, it doesn’t matter what people say, we’ve roped it off, I’ve notified the powers that be that when Sam interrupts by loudly clearing his throat. Agent, bet I know why you’re here, she says. How’s business? he asks, arms crossed over his chest. Turns out not even grim flipping death can slow down the birthday fun, she says, we roped off the ball pit until Corporate can get here–I just can’t believe the machine fritzed and did Saul in like that. That makes two of us, says Sam, I’m going to need to talk to some of the employees. Like who? she asks. Like YOU, he replies coldly. They go into a back room. Dean sees a girl walk by with a giant tye-dyed Slinky and tries to buy one from the ticket guy, who tells him he needs to win tickets to get one through luck and determination. You’re mainlining Kool-Aid, aren’t you? Dean asks. It’s double ticket Tuesday if you play Skee Ball, the kid tells him. 

 
Sam has Jean sitting down. So where were you last night? he asks sternly. Here, obviously, she says, puzzled by his demeanor, I. . .found him, but I was by the cash register the whole time. There a security camera pointed right at the counter; the cops already looked at it. You heard nothing? asks Sam. The ball blaster, she says–I didn’t hear him, if I did, I would have run in, of course. Right, says Sam, so that’s your excuse. My WHAT? she asks–I know I’m new to this job, but. . . What? asks Sam–how new? Couple weeks–just got promoted, says Jean. Hm, says Sam, was there a lot of competition for the gig? I guess, she says, it comes with benefits. The bosses had us all write essays about how we would do our best for the kids and they picked me–don’t be shocked but I actually did two semesters at college–I’m not in any kind of trouble, am I? I dunno, says Sam, you tell me. I’m not perfect, says Jean, but I’m trying, and it’s not like I’d do anything illegal. Sam slams his hands on the table. Sure you wouldn’t, he says menacingly. 
 
Skee Ball area – Dean is playing, but disappointed by his ticket output. He just tosses his last ball arbitrarily, but it goes into the 100 slot, and he walks away to follow Jean, who has sneaked outside to smoke.
 
Sam is now interrogating the young man who told Dean he needed to win tickets in order to get the Slinky. The kid looks over Sam’s card. SPECIAL agent! he chortles–I want you to know, sir, that I really appreciate what you do, and. . .  Quiet, orders Sam. 
 
Tyler watches a chunky kid dumping the skee balls directly into the 100 slot without actually tossing them in. The pink tickets are rolling out, many of them. Hey! Stop cheating! Ty orders the bigger boy. You heard him, knock it off! orders Dean, coming to stand beside Ty. The heavyset boy runs away. “JACKASS,” say Ty and Dean in unison. They look at each other with grins. Tyler, soup’s on, says Ty’s mother, bringing him lunch. Tyler doesn’t want the food: It sucks! he pronounces. Dean has collected and pocketed all the pink tickets from the Skee Ball machine. He suggests Ty cut his mother some slack. Why do you care? asks Ty. Because I’ve been where you are, Dean says, my dad hauled me places. Watching Ty’s mother clean up a spill on the floor, Dean adds, she’s working a tough gig, she’s exhausted–you should take pity on the old–and hey, free grub. That stuff tastes like butt, the kid says. It can’t be that bad, Dean insists, taking a bite–and immediately spitting it back out onto the plate and declaring, that is butt. He notices Ty drawing a picture, and asks, you scare of robots? They have laser eyes! the boys says, demonstrating on his own. Dean notes the guy from the ticket booth greeting another child and checks his phone to get a one word message from Sam: NOPE.

 
Sam interrogates someone in a lion costume. Loose the head, he commands him. Why’d you do it? he asks the scraggly haired guy. Do what? the young guy asks. I think you know, says Sam. I got rights, you can’t. . .  Sam tosses aside a chair and leans over the table. I’m the Federal government, pal, I can do whatever I want! says Sam. (LMAO!) Okay, I’ll talk, the guy promises, but instead tosses the lion’s head at Sam and flees the room, Dean hot on his heels. Sam is momentarily deterred by a clown, but he gets around him and catches up. When the guy falls into a batch of tires and Dean pins him there, he starts mumbling about a meth lab, that he’s the wrong guy, he and his brother have the same fingerprints, please, this is the best job I’ve ever had! He supplies his name to Dean–Cliff–and Dean asks him if he’s using people’s nightmares to smoke people. I don’t think so, Cliff says. I don’t care if you broke bad or whatever, says Dean, but there is something seriously wrong going on in there. In the sub-basement, says Cliff. This place has a sub-basement? asks Sam. Sure, says Cliff, easy to miss if you don’t know–we used to come in here after hours and–he laughs–you ever ‘shroom in a ball pit? Remembering who he’s talking to, he adds, no longer laughing, not that I would, agents, it was Saul, just Saul, all alone–sometimes, we’d hear spooky stuff through the vents, coming up through the boiler room.
 
Ty’s mom comes to take him home, but he’s upset–someone stole his robot drawing. So draw another one! shouts his exhausted, overworked mother, okay?–we gotta go. Dean shoots Ty a look. Okay, I’m sorry, the kid says. Shocked, his mother says thank you. That place mat sucked, anyway, Ty says. Dean searches through Ty’s drawings. While you were out bein’ Dirty Harry, says Dean, Ty’s mom got pissy with him, and now that place mat’s missing–I think the pissy mom plus sad kid plus missing place mat with something nuts written on it equals wacky corpse. So you think she’s next on the list. Dean does. I’ll tail ’em just to be safe, says Sam, you check the boiler room. Sam asks Dean what Ty drew. Robot, says Dean, size of a house, shoot destructo beams out of his eyes. At least I’ll see it coming, says Sam. 

 
Dean, investigating the boiler room, finds all sorts of supernatural nonsense. There’s a burning pyre of some kind. He also finds Ty’s robot drawing with an interesting book sitting on top of it. He’s ordered to drop his gun and kick it over by Howard, ticket guy. This is pretty heavy hoodoo you got here, says Dean, but none of this can poop out a unicorn. There’s power in fear, and when a child draws what he’s afraid of, a little of that mojo ends up on the page, says Howard. So what, do you toss it on the fire and some bed-wetter’s fantasy comes to life? suggests Dean. I gotta get something off the parent, too, Howard says, something they own, and that can get tricky. It hasn’t seemed to slow you down, says Dean, smiling bitterly. I’m just doing what I need to! Howard says angrily. Okay, I get it, says Dean, holding up a placating hand. He tosses something with the other, very fast, and rips Ty’s drawing in half. No drawing, no iron giant! says Dean triumphantly. You fool!–that B word is still on the list! cries Howard–but not tonight– bigger fish! You shoot me, Howard?–you really want a body on your hands? asks Dean–blood everywhere? Shut up! demands Howard–cause I got lotsa ways to take care of bullies!–don’t you worry–like that FBI guy–he’s your pal, right?–I saw you chase Cliff down–five minutes ago, his business card was torched–along with something from my personal collection–I picked it out real special for him, too–(Ty’s mother gets out of her car)–as soon as I saw him, I noticed–staring at every little Plucky like it was going to stab him or something–(Sam exits his car and comes face to face with a clown!)–the guy’s got a real thing about clowns–(The clown, his teeth all rotten, advances on a terrified Sam). 
 
RIGHT FRIGGIN’ NOW – Sam is getting the crap beaten out of him by the two clowns, probably close to a heart attack from the fear he’s had since childhood.

 
Noting some pretty little figurines on a nearby table, Dean picks one up one of a clown and says, these are really nice dolls, did you paint ’em yourself? Ah, friggin’ Plucky, he notes. Plucky helps kids! insists Howard–it’s all I ever wanted to do–and when the management slot opened up. . .but they passed me over, Shocker! says Dean. I told them–no one cares more than me, says Howard, but suits never listen, so, I’m doing it my way. Dean has pocketed the clown figurine in his back pocket. Let me get this straight, says Dean, you didn’t get the good parking spot, so you start dropping bodies? Those parents were horrible, says Howard, they deserved what they got! What about Saul? asks Dean. Saul had a big mouth! yells Howard.
 
Sam gets a faceful of seltzer, just for humiliation, from one of the clowns, at least we hope that’s all it is. 
 
Some guy hits on the babysitter, all of a sudden he’s the world’s worst dad? asks Dean. A good parent puts his kids first, insists Howard. That little girl watched her father get ganked by the closet monster, says Dean, that’s putting her FIRST? In the long run, they’ll all be better off, insists Howard. You think so, really? wonders Dean. I would have been, says Howard. Dean looks at some of the pictures and drawings on the wall. So your brother–what happened to him? asks Dean. It’s not my fault, it’s theirs! says Howard, nearly hysterical. 

 
The clowns are really hurting Sam now, tossing him again into the windshield, but he again gets in a few good swipes with the tire iron, hurting them right back. 
 
Looks to me like he drowned, says Dean, I was screaming, but my folks, they didn’t listen, says Howard, they never listened! It was an accident, Dean assures him. THEY LET HIM DIE! yells Howard. 
 
Sam gets in a good hit with the tire iron, causing a tooth to fly out of the clown.

 
Dean takes down the drawing and holds it up to Howard. I bet you still have nightmares, Dean says, and I bet you haven’t been in the water since. SHUT UP! cries Howard. Because you’re afraid, says Dean, coming closer–and tosses the clown figurine and drawing into the fire. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” screams Howard, firing at Dean, who falls to the floor. The ghost of Howard’s brother, all wet and angry, appears. It wasn’t my fault, pleads Howard as the ghost advances on him, I’m sorry! Dean rises to his feet. The ghost touches Howard’s hand, forcing him to drop the gun. Howard falls to his knees and begins choking on water. The clown and picture are burning up on the pyre as Howard stares his dead brother’s ghost in the eyes before he dies, choking on water as his brother had before him. 
 
The two clowns are going to go at Sam together for a killing head-on collision when they suddenly disappear in a shower of glitter. Sam, still clutching the tire iron, covered in glitter, spits, still running on adrenalin and ready to fight.

 
Sam, covered head to toe in glitter, drives the car up to pick up Dean. He exits the vehicle. Let’s roll, he says, adding, go ahead, say it. I’m sorry, says Dean, laughing, you look like you got attacked by some crazed PCP strippers. One of them sprayed me with seltzer from his flower, confesses Sam. Dean is having trouble stilling his laughter. I’m sor. . .what? he asks. Nothing, says Sam, carry on. Sam, I’m sorry for psychologically scarring you, Dean says. Seriously, says Dean, me ditching you when we were kids, it was a dick move, the whole clown thing. You know, man, honestly, says Sam, getting my ass kicked by those juggaloes tonight was therapeutic. You faced your fear, says Dean. Exactly, says Sam, now, what else could a clown possibly do to me?–I feel good. Congrats, says Dean. By the way, to celebrate, says Sam–and pulls a giant tie-dyed Slinky from the car and hands it to Dean, who says, excitedly, no, did you win this? We EARNED that, says Sam. Ha ha, thanks, says Dean, I got you a little something, too, actually. He tosses him a STUFFED CLOWN, which Sam catches with reluctance. You said you’re over it, Dean reminds him, think of it as a clown phobia sobriety chip. As we see the car’s receding taillights, however, the clown is left behind, on the ground, and we hear the sound of a clown’s raucous laughter.

 
——————————————–
 
I just loved this episode. Aside from taking us all the way back to season 2 to face one of Sam’s funniest fears, it brought some humor back into the show that was sorely needed–or at least it seemed to be a much more amusing episode than any of the others lately. Parents dying, kids drawing pictures of their worst fears, Sam becoming a punching bag for two clowns for the entire show–am I crazy? What the hell was funny about that? Nothing, really, yet I really enjoyed this episode and found many funny moments. 
 
I loved Dean’s reaction to the tie-dyed giant Slinky. I have one of those, I adore it and I understand why Dean wanted to have one so badly. It’s so pretty, and big, and nice to have. I love the pastel colors. No, I don’t do and have never done drugs. 

 
Dean seemed in much better spirits in this ep, and he got the job done. I was proud of him. And although Sam spent much of the ep getting pummeled by the clowns, his moments as bad cop were hilarious. Jensen seemed to be having a lot of fun, too. Whenever they put him together with a kid, there are always a lot of great moments, and his interaction with Tyler was priceless. The “butt” tasting pizza is classic. 
 
Of course, this gave Dean many chances to get in lots of clown zingers at his brother, and he didn’t miss one–plus he gave him a clown doll that got left in the road. Poor Sam, not quite ready to cuddle up with a clown yet, I guess. 
 
Questions:
 
1.  I rate this episode 8 out of 10. How about you? It was kind of derivative, reminding me of several other eps, and hence not all that original.  Your rating?
 
2.  Every time I see the brothers get into fights, I often wonder how they come out of them alive, but in this instance, I really wondered how Sam managed to live through getting pounded on by two clowns. It looked like they were really doing a major beat-down. Weren’t you shocked he didn’t need hospitalization?
 
3.  We have another MOTW who was merely a human who got hold of the ability to use black magic for his own nefarious purposes, correct? I was reminded of the writer in the ep where Dean became the world’s greatest PA, or “Red Sky at Morning,” with a ghostly brother who came back to seek revenge on a brother who had wronged him. That one even had dry land drownings, too. Did this ep remind you of any other episodes?

 
4.  What did you think of the concept of having kids draw pictures of their greatest fear, especially at a birthday party? Didn’t that seem kind of creepy at such a venue?
 
5.  I have always had an aversion to ball pits. Now I have even more of a reason. How do you feel about them—yea or nay?
 
6.  What did you think of Dean’s relationship with Ty?  Wasn’t it sweet? I loved how he tried to help Ty give his mother an easier time of things. He looked way too young to be taking the bus alone, though, that made me nervous. 
 
7.  We also had the old unicorn with rainbows coming out of its ass!  I was roaring when I saw that!  It was as if they were striving to put all the oldie but goodie memories from previous seasons into this ep for us.  Were you as tickled as I was?
 
8.  What was the best thing about this episode?
 
9.  What was the worst thing about this episode?
 
 
 

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