Robin’s Rambles – “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester”

-Robin Vogel

Now – two days before Halloween – A young woman passes by decorations and kids prepping for the holiday. She enters her home loaded down with Halloween candy. Her husband, feeding their baby, gazes eagerly at the huge bucket of candy she puts on the shelf. He tries to grab a piece, but she smacks his hand and tells him not until after Halloween, they ran out at 6:30 last year. She lifts her baby son from his high chair and asks her husband if he’s joining her for his bath. “I’ll be up in a minute,” he promises, but as soon as she’s gone, he opens the cabinet and takes candy out of the bucket, unwraps it and starts to chew it. He takes another piece, but quickly discards it; something is wrong. We see the inside of his mouth, where a razor blade has lodged itself into his palate. (ouch and ewww!) He removes that one, fingers bloody, then throws up another, with more blood. His wife comes in with the baby, wanting to know what’s taking him so long. Seeing him lying there, blood dribbling from his mouth, she screams. 

Day before Halloween – Sam questions Mrs. Wallace: How many razor blades were there? “Two on the floor, one in his stomach, one stuck in his throat,” she says tearfully, wondering how it was possible for him to swallow four of them. Noticing Dean checking her oven, she says, “The candy was never in the oven.” Dean says they must be thorough. Mrs. Wallace doesn’t think razors were found in any of the other candy, but she can’t believe an urban legend actually happened to her husband. Dean finds a hex bag under the refrigerator and holds it up to show Sam, who asks Mrs. Wallace if a woman might have had a grudge against her husband. “Are you suggesting an AFFAIR?” she asks, furious, “no, Luke would nev-” Sam apologizes; they must consider all possibilities. “If someone wanted to kill my husband, don’t you think they’d find a better way than putting a razor blade in a piece of candy he MIGHT eat?” Sam and Dean exchange looks–she’s right. But. . .

Hotel – Dean enters, gobbling down candy. “Really?” says Sam. “After that guy choked down all those razor blades?” It’s Halloween, Dean reminds him, and Sam says it’s Halloween every day for them. The hex bag is interesting””gold thread, an herb that’s been extinct for two hundred years.” He picks up what looks like a silver coin. “This is Celtic, and I don’t mean some new age knock off. It looks like the real deal, like 600 years old real.” Dean picks up a small charred thing and smells it. “THAT,” says Sam, “is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby.” “Gross!” says Dean, discarding it, “witches, man, they’re so freakin’ skeevy!” “Takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together, that’s for sure,” says Sam. Dean checked out Luke Wallace, who was so vanilla, he made vanilla seem spicy; he finds no reason why anyone would want this guy dead.

Someone dumps a giant lump of cake on a plate. We’re at a Halloween party in someone’s basement. Two pretty girls, Jenny, dressed as a slutty nurse, and Tracy, as a slutty cheerleader, talk about how lame the party is. “This party blows!” declares Jenny. Perhaps they should TP someone’s house? “Justin, have you gotten into the liquor cabinet yet?” asks Jenny. “No,” he says, “it’s triple locked. Are you going to the mausoleum party tomorrow night?” Are you gonna be there? asks Jenny. “It’s gonna be so rad,” chortles Justin, “I’m gonna get so BAKED!” “It’s gotta be better than this G-rated ass-fest, declares Jenny.” “It’s not that bad,” says Tracy, who, to prove her point, pulls her hair back with one hand and sexily goes apple-bobbing. She stands and bites into the apple she caught, making it look obscene. “I stand corrected,” declares Justin. “I wanna try,” says Jenny, who gets down on her knees, too. The first couple of apples get away from her, but she suddenly finds herself being pulled down into the water, unable to get free. Justin comments about her ability to hold her breath. Tracy realizes something is wrong. “Help me!” she cries, trying to pull Jenny free. Justin runs over to help, but they can’t get Jenny out. Inexplicably, the water in the vat begins to boil. Jenny screams into the water and kicks her legs as her face burns and blisters. Finally, her feet are still. Justin pulls Jenny out of the water. “Oh my God!” he cries, looking at her blistered, dead face. Tracy covers her mouth, looking as if she’s about to throw up. 

Noticing the age of the females they’ll be questioning, Dean says, “I got this one.” Sam has two words for him: “Jail bait.” Retorts Dean: “I would NEVER,” but his impish face says otherwise. Tracy explains to the cops that the water in the tub wasn’t hot; she’d just been in there herself. FBI agent “Seger” asks Tracy if she knew Luke Wallace, who died yesterday. She says no. Sam finds a hex bag in the sofa cushions and shows it to Dean, who nods and stares at Tracy for a moment. Hotel – Sam lies on the bed, reading a book, while Dean does his research on the computer at the desk. “Both of these vics are squeaky clean,” says Dean, there’s no reason for wicked witch payback.” Maybe it’s a spell, suggests Sam, reading from a book: “Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. That’s October 31st, Halloween.” Dean asks what the sacrifices are for. “This witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon,” says Sam, “Samhain, the origin of Halloween. The Celts believe October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was thinnest between the living and the dead. It was Samhain’s night–masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago.” “So some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?” asks Dean. “This is heavyweight witchcraft,” says Sam, “this ritual can only be performed every 600 years.” “And the 600-year marker rolls around. . .” asks Dean. “Tomorrow night,” supplies Sam. “Naturally.” says Sam. “Once he is raised,” continues Sam, “Samhain can do some raising of his own–dark, evil crap, they follow him around like the friggin’ Pied Piper.” “So we got ghosts?” asks Dean, “zombies? Leprechauns?” DEAN!” says Sam warningly. “Those lil’ dudes are scary,” insists Dean, “small hands.” “Look,” says Sam seriously, “it just starts with ghosts and ghouls, this sucker keeps on going, by night’s end, we’re talking every evil thing we’ve ever seen, everything we fight, all in one place.” “It’s gonna be a slaughterhouse,” says Dean. Sam nods.

Halloween – Dean sits in the Impala, the passenger’s side littered with empty candy wrappers. (for shame, Dean!) He belches uncomfortably, the candy taking its toll on his stomach. His cell phone rings; it’s Sam. Dean complains he’s cramping like an SOB and has a steaming pile of nothing. Someone planted those hex bags, Sam insists, and it’s someone with access to both houses. Just then, Dean notices Tracy walking up the walk to babysit at the Wallace’s house! Dean tosses his room key (Moonlight Hotel, room 126) across the table. They discuss how Tracy, a 600 year old witch, chose to come back as a hot cheerleader. Sam reports that Tracy got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers and got suspended from school.

Dean walks down a school hallway, where masks are hanging from the ceiling. A particularly grisly one brings back memories of hell and screaming souls. “Bring back memories?” asks Sam behind him, “of being a teenager and all that angst?” Noticing a guy trying to fit a bong-shaped piece into the kiln, Dean says, ‘Now THAT brings back memories!” (LOL!) The brothers meet Mr. “Call me Don” Harding, an art teacher who tells Agents “Getty” and “Lee” Tracy was talented and bright until she exploded and nearly scratched his eyes out–her work got inappropriate and disturbing. Detailed images of killings–gory, weird symbols, primitive, with her in the middle, participating. Sam shows him the coin they found in the hex bag. “Anything like this?” asks Sam. “I think that might have been one of ’em,” agrees Don. Dean asks where Tracy is now. In her apartment, reveals Don–she arrived here a year ago as an emancipated teen–“God only knows what her parents were like.”

Hotel – Dean pulls up in the Impala. Sam joins him. “Tracy was no where I could find,” he says. “Her friends don’t know where she is,” reports Dean, “it’s like she hopped a broomstick.” “They could be making their third sacrifice anytime,” frets Sam. Dean is aware of that. A chunky young man dressed as an astronaut comes up to them, holding out his pumpkin. “Trick or treat,” he says. “This is a motel,” says Dean. “So?” asks the kid, still expectant. Sam starts to remind him they have a ton of candy, but Dean says, quickly, “We did, but it’s gone.” “I want candy,” whines the boy. “I think you’ve had enough,” says Dean. The kid narrows his eyes at Dean and walks away. Sam enters their room, spots the back of Castiel and immediately draws his gun. “WHO ARE YOU?” he demands. “Sam, it’s Castiel, the angel,” says Dean. About the other man standing by the window, Dean says, “Him, I don’t know.” Staring eagerly at Castiel, who says, “Hello, Sam.” the younger brother is floored. “Oh my God!” he says, then quickly apologizes for taking the name of the Lord in vain. “It’s an honor,” he says, holding out his hand, “really, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Castiel gazes at Sam’s proffered hand as if not knowing what to do about it; Sam shakes it, hoping for a reaction. Finally, Castiel takes hold of Sam’s hand and says, “And I you.” He covers Sam’s hand with his other hand. “Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood.” Sam’s face falls. “I’m glad to hear you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities,” adds Castiel. “Let’s keep it that way, says the other man.” “OK, Chuckles,” says Dean, and asks Castiel, “Who’s your friend?” “The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?” asks Castiel. “Why?” asks Dean. “Have you located the witch?” persists Castiel. “Yes,” says Dean. “And is the witch dead?” asks Castiel. “No,” says Sam. “We know who it is,” Dean assures him. “The witch knows who you are, too,” says Castiel, and shows them a hex bag found inside the wall of their room. “If we hadn’t found it, one or both of you would be dead” says Castiel–”do you know where the witch is now?” “We’re working on it,” says Dean. “That’s unfortunate,” says Castiel, “the raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals.” “This is about your buddy Lucifer,” says Dean. “Lucifer is no friend of ours,” says the other man, still standing and staring out the window. “It’s just an expression,” says Dean. “Lucifer cannot rise,” insists Castiel, “the breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs.” “OK, great,” says Dean, “tell us where the witch is, we’ll gank her, and everybody goes home.” “We are not omniscient,” says Castiel, “the witch is very powerful, she’s cloaked, even to our methods.” “We already know who she is,” says Sam, “so if we work together. . . ” “Enough of this!” says the other man, finally turning around. “Who are you and why should I care?” asks Dean. “This is Uriel,” says Castiel, “he’s what you might call a Specialist. Both of you need to leave this town immediately.” “Why?” demands Dean. “Because we’re about to destroy it,” says Castiel. Sam and Dean exchange looks of disbelief.

“This is your plan–to smite the whole friggin’ town?” asks Dean. “We’re out of time,” says Castiel. “This witch has to die, the seal must be saved.” “There are a thousand people here!” objects Sam. “1214,” corrects Uriel, “this isn’t the first time I’ve ‘purified’ a city.” “I understand this is regrettable,” says Castiel, “we have to hold the line, too many seals have broken already.” “You screw the pooch on some seals and now this town has to pay the price?” asks Dean. “The lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion,” Castiel reminds him, “bigger picture here–Lucifer cannot rise, he does and hell rises with him. Is that something you’re willing to risk?” We’ll stop this witch before she summons anyone,” promises Sam, “the seal won’t be broken and no one has to die!” “We’re wasting time with these mud monkeys,” says Uriel. (nasty expression!) “I’m sorry,” says Castiel, “but we have our orders. “You can’t do this,” says Sam, “you’re angels, you’re supposed to show mercy!” “Says who?” asks Uriel. “We have no choice,” says Castiel. “Of course you have a choice,” says Dean. “You’ve never questioned a crap order? Are you just a couple of hammers?” “Even if you can’t understand it,” says Castiel, “have faith–the plan is just.” “How can you say that?” demands Sam. “Because it comes from heaven,” says Castiel, that makes it just.” “It must be nice to be so sure of yourselves,” says Dean. “When your father gave you an order, Dean,” asks Castiel, didn’t you obey?” “Sorry, boys,” says Dean, “looks like your plans have changed. “You think you can stop us?” asks Uriel. Dean tells them if they smite this town, they’ll have to smite him and Sam with it–“You went to the trouble of bustin’ me out of hell, I figure I’m worth somethin’ to the man upstairs–you wanna waste me, go ahead–see how He digs that.” “I’ll drag you out of here myself,” threatens Uriel. “You’ll have to kill me,” warns Dean, staring into Uriel’s eyes, “and we’re back to the same problem. Come on, you’re gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch–sounds to me like you’re compensatin’ for somethin’.” (To Castiel) “We can do this. We’ll find that witch and stop the summoning.” “CASTIEL!” says Uriel sharply. “Enough!” says Castiel. To Dean he says, “I suggest you work quickly. Outside: Dean and Sam find the Impala has been thoroughly egged. “ASTRONAUT!” shouts Dean. In the car, Sam plays with the burnt baby bone and looks glum. “What?” asks Dean. “I thought they’d be different,” says Sam. “I tried to tell you,” Dean reminds him. “I thought they’d be righteous,” says Sam. “They are righteous,” says Dean, “that’s kinda the problem–there’s nothin’ more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he’s on a holy mission.” “This is God and heaven?” asks Sam–”This is what I’ve been praying to?” “I know you’re into the whole God thing,” says Dean, “Jesus on a tortilla and all that, just because there’s a couple of bad apples doesn’t mean the whole barrel is rotten. For all we know, God hates these jerks. Don’t give up on this stuff, is all I’m sayin’. Babe Ruth was a dick, but baseball is still a beautiful game. Are you going to figure out a way to find this witch or just sit there fingering your bone?” (dirty double entendre alert!) Sam tells Dean that the amount of heat it would take to char that bone couldn’t be done in any kitchen oven. “OK, Betty Crocker,” says Dean, “what does that mean?” “We make a stop,” says Sam.

School, art room – We view an ugly carved pumpkin with its tongue sticking out. “So Tracy used the kiln to char the bones?” asks Dean. They realized the hext bag turned up in their room not after they spoke with Tracy, but after they spoke with Don. They check in the kiln, nothing. Sam breaks the lock on the bottom drawer of a cabinet. Inside is a bowl containing several children’s bones. “And my guess is he isn’t savin’ ’em for the dog,” says Dean.

Outside, kids are trick or treating in their Halloween costumes, passing by Uriel and Castiel, who are hanging out by a bench, watching them. “The decision’s been made,” says Castiel. “By a mud monkey,” says Uriel contemptuously. “You shouldn’t call them that,” says Castiel. “That’s what they are,” says Uriel, “savages–just plumbing on two legs.” “You’re close to blasphemy,” says Castiel, causing the other angel to squirm. “There’s a reason we were sent to save him, he has potential, he may succeed here.” Castiel sits next to Uriel on the bench. “At any rate,” he adds, “it’s out of our hands.” ”It doesn’t have to be,” says Uriel. “What would you suggest?” asks Castiel. “That we drag Dean Winchester out of here, then blow this insignificant pinprick off the map!” says Uriel harshly. “You know our TRUE orders,” Castiel reminds him, “are you prepared to disobey?”

Darkness – A mother with a child shakes her head, indicating her kid should skip one creepy-looking house. Inside, Tracy stands, gagged, struggling and grunting, her hands tied above her head. Don, reciting Latin, is working some magic over candles, a chalice, a huge knife, a horned animal’s skull. He stands before Tracy, tracing the knife point over her neck and down her breast. He brings it back to stab her, but Sam and Dean shoot him in the back with several bullets and he falls to the ground. Dean frees Tracy and Sam checks Don–dead. Pulling off the gag, Tracy cries, “He was gonna kill me! That sick son of a bitch! Did you see what he was doing, did you hear him? How SLOPPY his incantation was?” The boys look at her sharply, realizing their mistake. “My brother always was a dimwit,” she says, but before they can draw their weapons against her, she sends them flying to the floor, writhing in intense pain. “He was going to make me the final sacrifice,” she reveals. His idea. . .but now, that honor goes to him. The whole time I wanted to rip his face off.

Our Master’s return–the spellwork’s a two man job, you understand, so for six hundred years I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch. Planning, preparing, unbearable. And you get him with a gun, uh, love that. You know, back in the day, this was the one day you kept your children inside. Well tonight you’ll all see what Halloween really is.” Tracy uses the knife to drain some of Don’s blood from one of his wounds into the chalice. As Sam and Dean writhe in pain on the floor, Tracy begins the incantation. Sam places his hand flat into the pool of Don’s blood on the floor and paints his face with it. He does the same to Dean. “Just follow my lead,” says Sam. Tracy finishes the incantation. The concrete floor between the brothers cracks open. Smoke exits the fissure and fills the room. It slides into Don’s mouth until all of it is gone, bringing Samhain to creepy life with horrible light blue eyes and blurred vision. He rises, takes Tracy’s face in his hands and kisses her lips. “My love,” she says, eyes shining. “You’ve aged,” he notes.”This face,” she says, “I can’t fool you.”Your beauty is beyond time,” he says, pressing their foreheads together. He quickly snaps her neck. (NOT romantic!) She falls to the floor; he tells her how he really feels: “Whore!” Fresh red blood all over Don’s white shirt, Samhain looks at the blurry bodies of Sam and Dean lying on the floor, masked with his blood. He walks right past them. “What the hell was that?” whispers Dean. “Halloween lore,” says Sam, “people used to wear masks to hide from him, so I gave it a shot.” “You gave it a shot?” repeats Dean in disbelief.

Samhain walks amongst trick-or-treaters, his frightening face and bloody shirt unnoticed on this one night of the year. Wiping blood off their faces, the brothers figure out where Samhain would go to raise the dark forces of the night–a cemetery. They climb into the Impala and motor there. “This demon is pretty powerful,” says Sam. “Might take more than the usual weapons. “Sam, no, you’re not using your psychic whatever–Ruby’s knife is enough,” Dean insists. “Why?” asks Sam. “Because the angels said so, for one,” Dean reminds him. “I thought you said they were a bunch of fanatics,” says Sam. “They happen to be right about this one,” says Dean. “It doesn’t seem like they’re right about much,” says Sam. “Forget the angels, you said yourself, these powers are like playin’ with fire. Please,” begs Dean, handing the knife to Sam, who reluctantly accepts it.

The kids are having a great time at their mausoleum party, where music blares. Justin warns the other kids the cops are coming, and the music and merriment goes silent. Samhain locks the mausoleum door and takes away the key. “Don,” says Justin, shaking the door, “you locked us in.” The room starts to quake. A crypt opens. A corpse grabs Justin by the ankles and pulls him inside. Blood comes spewing out. Terrified, the other kids storm the locked doors, trying to escape. Sam and Dean have arrived, and as soon as they’re able to convince the kids to move back, Dean opens the lock with one bullet and releases them. Two other ghouls, dressed in their Sunday best, crawl from their crypts. Dean takes out a long sharp weapon. “Bring it on, Stinky!” he urges.

Sam finds Samhain, who holds out his hand and sends a white ray of death light at him. “That demon raygun stuff doesn’t work on me,” says Sam evenly, still advancing. Sam and Samhain get into some good old punching each other fighting.

Back in the crypt, a nasty female ghost hurls Dean against the wall. “Zombie ghost orgy huh? Well, that’s it, I’m torching everybody,” he gasps.

Samhain has Sam hoisted up against the wall, choking him with one hand. Sam is able to get the knife out and burns Samhain’s arm with it, but the latter shoves it away and onto the floor with his elbow, no harm done. Samhain tosses Sam against the wall, but Sam quickly rises to his feet and reaches out his hand, stopping his opponent, freezing him in place. Wisps of smoke begin to spurt from Samhain’s chest as Sam concentrates harder. Samhain tries to advance, but only manages a few short baby steps before halting; he is still perilously close to Sam. Dean comes around the corner and watches. Sam puts his other hand on his forehead as if trying to keep his brain from exploding. Smoke begins to pour from Samhain’s mouth. Sam’s nose starts bleeding as he concentrates to the max on Samhain. Blood drips down over Sam’s lips and chin. Samhain collapses to the floor, dead. The smoke dissipates, gone, too. Dean’s forehead crinkles as he eyes his brother. Sam looks at him, ashamed, yet triumphant.

Hotel – One day after Halloween — Uriel abruptly appears when Sam is packing his clothes. “Tomorrow, November 2nd, is an anniversary for you, isn’t it?” he asks. “It’s the day Azazel killed your mother–”and 22 days later, your girlfriend, too. It must be difficult to bear, yet you brazenly use the power he gave you, his profane blood pumping through your veins. You were told not to use your abilities” “What was I supposed to do?” asks Sam. “That demon would have killed me, AND my brother, and everyone.” “You were TOLD not to,” says Uriel. (one track mind, isn’t he?) “If Samhain had gotten loose in this town. . .” begins Sam. “You’ve been warned,” says Uriel, “twice now.” “My brother was right about you,” says Sam, “you ARE dicks.” Uriel flies right into Sam’s face. “The only reason you’re alive, Sam Winchester, is you’ve been useful, but the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, one word–one–and I will turn you to dust.” Sam nods. “As for your brother,” adds Uriel, “tell him that maybe he should climb off that high horse of his–ask Dean what he remembers from hell.” Sam looks around as Uriel disappears; we hear only the sound of fluttering wings.

Playground – Dean and Castiel sit on separate benches, watching children play. “Let me guess,” says Dean, “you’re here for the ‘I told you so.'” “No,” says Castiel.” “Good, because I’m not really all that interested,” says Dean. “I am not here to judge you,” says Castiel. “Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, but to do whatever you told us to do.” “Your orders were to follow MY orders?” asks Dean. “It was a test to see how you would perform under battlefield conditions,” says Castiel. “It was a witch,” says Dean, “not the Tet Offensive. So I failed your test, I get it. But you know what? If you were to wave that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we were to do it all over again, I’d make the same call, ’cause I don’t know what’s going to happen when these seals are broken, hell, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. What I do know is these swings, trees, kids, all of it–they’re still here because of my brother and me.” “I was praying that you’d choose to save the town,” says Castiel. “These people–they’re all my father’s creations, works of art, and even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that’s not an expression Dean, it’s literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means. Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul? I’m not a hammer, as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make, I don’t envy the weight that’s on your shoulders Dean. I truly don’t.” Dean glances up at the kids playing, then back at Castiel, who is gone. He is alone on his bench.

1. Uriel was presented as a real dickish angel who got right in Sam’s face and ordered him not to use his powers. We know he is REALLY on evil’s side, Lucifer’s side, so he must have been happy the seal was broken, that even though the mud monkeys in the town were spared, they were one step closer to Lucifer’s release. Castiel should already have been suspicious of his brother angel for the ugly names Uriel called humans.

2. I remember how crazy everyone went because of the mispronunciation of Samhain in this episode! I knew they shouldn’t be saying it the way it was spelled, but figured no one would know who they were talking about if they pronounced it properly. Such details don’t bother me.

3. Loved the plump little astronaut, but wanted to see him detailing the Impala with his own pudgy hands as revenge for daring to throw eggs at Dean’s baby!

4. The scene of Dean watching Sam use his powers against Samhain was SO intense. I was afraid poor Sam was going to have a stroke. It looked like what he was doing was taking that much out of him!

5. How gross was that candy-eating scene? The blade in his mouth? The thought of having them in his stomach. . . Gross! Very well done, though, and one of those urban Halloween legends everyone fears, right?

6. Does it seem to you that Castiel is a very different angel from his associates so far?