Air Date: 18 November 2011

EXT. WHARTON STate FOREST - THE PINE BARRENS, NEW JERSEY – NIGHT

Something is running through the forest towards an SUV and large tent. A generator is supplying power to the tent. Inside the tent, a Man and Woman in sleeping bags on a double bed are watching television. The Woman uses the remote to turn the television off.

Man: Good night, sweetie.

The Man turns off his bedside lamp and turns on his iPod.

Recording on iPod: This is Nature Sounds' "Sounds of Nature," Volume 4, "Soothing Seas."

The Man, still asleep in his sleeping bag, is now hanging upside down high up in a tree.

Man: What the hell? Leanne!

The Man sees something moving in the tree above him.

Man: No. No. Stay away. Leanne!

The Man screams as something begins to eat him alive. Bits of flesh, clothing and his iPod drop to the ground.

Recording on iPod: This is Nature Sounds' "The Sounds of Nature."

SUPERNATURAL

INT. OLD HOUSE - HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY – NIGHT

Sam comes down the stairs. Dean is standing at a fuse box.

Sam: Did you strip enough wire?

Dean: Yes, I stripped enough wire.

Sam: All right.

Sam attaches cables to the stripped wires. Electricity crackles and the lights come on.

Dean: See? Told you.

Bobby enters the house. Sam takes a seat at a table, Dean and Bobby stand around it.

Bobby: Well, isn't this cozy?

Sam: Yeah. Well, Motel 6 just ain't leaving the light on anymore.

Bobby: Well, I'm taking a page out of Frank Devereaux's Bible on this. Everybody's out to get you -- paranoia is just plain common sense.

Dean: Weeks, guys. Weeks. We've been living with cold showers, cold Hot Pockets, cold freaking everything. I mean, this is the bottom that we're living in. You guys get that, right?

Bobby: How many big mouths are out there, running card traces, like Chet, or hunting us down God knows what ways? No, now's not the time to be laying our bed rolls out on the grid. Not if we can help it.

The lights go off. Sam turns on a battery-powered lamp.

Dean: That's just great. This is stupid. Our quality of life is crap. We got Purgatory's least wanted everywhere, and we're on our third "The World's Screwed" issue in, what, three years? We've steered the bus away from the cliff twice already.

Sam: Someone's got to do it.

Dean: What if the bus wants to go over the cliff?

Sam: You think the world wants to end?

Dean: I think that if we didn't take its belt and all its pens away each year that, yeah, the whole enchilada woulda offed itself already.

Bobby: Stop trying to wrestle with the big picture, son. You're gonna hurt your head.

Dean takes a beer out of a cooler and lies down on a sofa.

Bobby: So, what's the guff?

Bobby sits down at the table with Sam.

Sam: Well, uh, there've been a rash of sightings all over the southern pine barrens -- a strange, fast-moving, human-like creature. Locals even have a name for it.

Sam passes a print-out of an internet search to Bobby. It reads "JERSEY Devil REPORTED!" and there is a picture of a creature with wings and webbed feet standing upright on two legs.

Bobby: The Jersey Devil? I thought that was just local tall-tale crap.

Sam: The area's history of sightings goes back more than two centuries. Some accounts gave it bat wings, others horns, a...a tail.

Sam shows Bobby another print-out: KNOWLEGE FOR A[LL?]

APPARARITIONS CREATURES CROP CIRCLES ALIENS

Members Log In: quester Pass Word: ********

JERSEY Devil SIGHTED AGAIN!

Dr Kara Schwandt Phd.

Science Journal Report Article

The Jersey Devil is a legendary creature or cryptid said to inhabit the Pine Barrens of Southern New Jersey. The creature is often described as a flying biped with hooves, but there are many variations.

To date the most raucous reports of the Jersey Devil was [sic]in 1909 where hundred [sic]of people had testified to the sightings.

There had been many sightings of the creature since 1909. Recently a farmer in Jersey had reported disturbances and k*lling of his livestock. [etc]

Sam: And, uh, oh yeah, a horse's head.

Sam shows Bobby another print-out: OPEN MINDS

DEEPER KNOWLEDGE

Members Log In: quester Pass Word: ********

JERSEY Devil SPOTTED IN WOODS

There is a short, indistinct article and a drawing of a winged creature with a horse's head standing on two legs.

Dean: Of course, the sketch looks more like a Chewbacca head.

Bobby: Sounds kind of mixed up.

Dean: Yeah, kind of like it should be fighting a Japanese robot.

Sam: Well, mixed up or not, it sounds like it might just have a body count.

Sam passes Bobby a newspaper article.

Bobby: "Camping high season harshed by human burrito"?

Sam: Yeah. Something hung a camper up in a tree, then ate him alive right through his sleeping bag. His wife hasn't been seen, either. Plus, there have been four other missing persons reported in the last three weeks. State troopers -- get this -- are saying it's a rogue bear.

Dean: Yeah, of course, when was the last time you saw a bear string up its own piñata?

Bobby: Something's out there in the woods. Hey, we're going honest to goodness wilderness hunting. I haven't used my .30-30 in a while.

Dean: Okay, Davey Crockett, well, safari's gonna have to wait till tomorrow and after our suit-and-tie dance. We'll make sure this is not just some backwoods crackhead who likes to roll glampers.

Bobby: What the hell's a glamper?

Dean: Sam?

Sam: High-end camper. TV, A.C., Wi-Fi. Back to nature, zero inconvenience.

Bobby: That's idiotic.

Sam: Yeah. Some people just don't know how to live.

EXT. BIGGERSON's SIZZLIN' GRILL & BAR – DAY

INT. BIGGERSON's SIZZLIN' GRILL & BAR – DAY

A poster on the wall advertises the new, limited time only "Pepperjack Turdunken Slammer" from $4.99.

Sam and Dean are at a table with a RANGER, who is eating a sandwich.

Dean: So, Ranger Evans –

RANGER: Oh, uh, you can call me Rick. Ranger Rick.

Dean: Uh, you were the one who found Mitchell Rayburn, correct?

RANGER Rick: The human burrito.

Sam: State police have it down as a bear att*ck.

RANGER Rick: [laughs]Yeah, I read what the state police says. That was no rogue brown.

Dean: Apparently, some others reported seeing something a little, you know, weirder.

RANGER Rick: You know, I've been a ranger for 12 years. Tell you the truth, we have no idea what's out there. Big. Lot of trees and whatnot. Tell you this, though. You got to respect Mother Nature. You respect her, or she's gonna string you up, and she'll eat your ass right through the Gore-Tex.

Dean: So you're thinking it's Mother Nature?

RANGER Rick: See, me and Phil, we've been finding, uh, something's leftovers for weeks -- deer remains, badger, missing pets.

Sam: Who's Phil?

RANGER Rick: AssistantChief Ranger. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Phil in a couple of days. He's supposed to call from whatever station he's checking off.

Sam: But you think maybe your assistant chief ranger might be missing?

RANGER Rick: I should probably report that.

Sam and Dean notice that Bobby has entered the restaurant.

Dean: Oh. Excuse us. Well, you, uh... enjoy your lunch... Ranger Rick.

Sam and Dean walk over to Bobby.

Dean: So?

Bobby: Well, I took a look at the cadaver -- what's left of it. Not a happy camper. Don't have any stats on a Jersey Devil, but the bite radius on the vic's wounds -- it's too small for a Leviathan. And he's still got a ventricle and some change, so I doubt we're talking werewolf. And a wendigo don't leave no scraps.

Dean: Hmm. Lunch?

Bobby: Starving.

Dean hails a passing waiter.

Dean: Hey! Uh, Brandon. We grab a booth?

BRANDON: Hey, uh, douchewad, a hostess will seat you. Do I look like a freaking hostess?

Dean: Do you want to look like a hostess?

BRANDON walks away.

Sam: That didn't really make sense, what you... said.

Dean: What was that?

Bobby: I sure hope we don't get Brandon's section.

BRANDON puts a plate down in front of Sam.

BRANDON: Sidewinder soup and salad combo goes to Big Bird.

BRANDON puts another plate in front of Dean.

BRANDON: TDK slammer to Ken Doll.

BRANDON puts a plate in front of Bobby.

BRANDON: And a little heart-smart for creepy uncle.

Dean: What is your problem?

BRANDON: You are my problem!

Bobby: Oh, Brandon's got his flare all up in a bunch.

Sam: Yeah. There goes his18%.

Dean: Anyway, chief ranger -- I don't think he believes in the Jersey Devil.

Sam: Oh, oh, by the way, did he seem a little, uh, stoned to you?

Dean: Ranger Rick? Yeah. Definitely growing his own on the back 40 and smoking all the profits.

Sam: He did seem to think that there was something --

Dean: [talking with mouth full]Oh, that is good sandwich.

Bobby: What the hell did you get?

Dean turns a card on the table advertising the special towards Bobby.

Dean: New Pepperjack Turducken Slammer -- limited time only.

Bobby: Bunch of birds shoved up inside each other. Shouldn't play God like that.

Dean: Hey, don't look at me sideways from that -- that Chinese chicken geezer salad there, okay? This is awesome. Like the perfect storm of your top-three edible birds.

Sam: All right, anyways, um... The ranger did seem to think there was something out in Wharton Forest.

Bobby: Well, then I'd say it's safari time.

Man: She's big-boned!

BRANDON: Look at her! You're telling me she's not fat?

WAITER: Hey.

BRANDON: Up yours, Mike. Shove it right up yours!

BRANDON takes off his apron and leaves the restaurant.

Dean: Well, anyway, back to bigger and better things.

Dean continues eating his sandwich.

EXT. FOREST – DAY

Bobby, Dean and Sam are walking through the forest. Bobby and Dean are carrying packs and all three have r*fles. Bobby stops to look at a tuft of hair on a bush.

Bobby: Couple of bucks. Head-butting over turf probably. Pretty sure the other fella won.

Sam: I guess I forgot. Before you were a hunter, you were actually a...hunter.

Bobby: Yeah, well, we sh*t our dinner when I was a kid.

Dean: You used to take us hunting. Remember? Dad had a case, he'd just dump us on you. sh**t, you must have taught us most of the outdoor tracking we know.

Bobby: Yeah, what I could get to stick. I never could get you little grubs to pull a trigger on a single deer.

Dean: You're talking about Bambi, man.

Bobby: You don't sh**t Bambi, jackass. You sh**t Bambi's mother.

They look up at a bloodied arm hanging from a tree.

Dean: Well, looks like we found Phil.

EXT. FOREST – NIGHT

RANGER Rick arrives in his vehicle.

RANGER Rick: Special agents. Listen, I got your call. But I'm not sure I got what you were saying.

Dean points upwards at the arm.

RANGER Rick: Hey. I think we found Phil.

Dean: That's what I said.

RANGER Rick: Uh, I should probably call this in.

Sam: Yeah, yeah. Solid move, Rick.

As RANGER Rick goes to his vehicle, there is the sound of a creature moving and breathing heavily.

RANGER Rick (on radio): Uh, this is Ranger Evans up at Acher's Point. Come in. Uh, repeat. This is ChiefRanger Evans.

Woman (on radio): Chief Ranger, go ahead.

RANGER Rick (on radio): I have a situation out at Acher's Point.

Bobby: Ranger, I think we've got company.

RANGER Rick: Yeah? Who's that?

Something drags RANGER Rick off into the trees.

Sam: Ranger!

EXT. FOREST – NIGHT

Sam: Ranger Evans! Ranger!

Bobby: It's got him up in the trees. Lights off.

Bobby, Dean and Sam point their r*fles upwards. Bobby turns off the spotlight on his r*fle.

Dean: What?

Dean lowers his r*fle.

Sam: Wait, Bobby, you think that's really a good idea?

Bobby: Shut up, shut off, and listen.

Sam lowers his r*fle and turns off the spotlight. Dean has already turned off the light on his.

Bobby: Damn thing's eating Rick.

Dean: Man, I liked Rick.

Sam and Bobby look at Dean. Bobby closes his eyes and fires up into the tree. A humanoid creature holding one of RANGER RICK's arms falls to the ground.

Dean: Wow. Nice sh*t, Bobby.

Sam: Seriously.

Bobby: We all got our gifts.

Dean: What about the rest of Ranger Rick?

Bobby: Ranger called in his 10-20. His own will find him. We got crap to do.

INT. OLD HOUSE – NIGHT

Dean and Sam lay the creature on the table.

Bobby: Built like a supermodel, but the thing was strong. That's for damn sure. Carried a full-grown man up a tree in nothing flat.

Sam: But, it only took one b*llet to bring it down.

Dean: And not even a silver b*llet, just a b*llet-b*llet.

The creature sits bolt upright and then stands up on the table. Dean, Sam and Bobby f*re at it repeatedly. It falls back down on the table. Dean and Sam exhale loudly.

Bobby: First one must have just stunned it.

Dean: All right, well, let's check its hulk pants for some ID.

Dean takes a wallet out of the creature's pants.

Dean: Oh, that is just gonna ruin the leather.

Sam takes the wallet from Dean.

Bobby: Are you feeling okay?

Dean: Yeah, I feel great.

Sam: Gerald Browder, uh, lived here in town, 5'9", brown hair and blue eyes... 235 pounds.

Dean: Whoa.

They all look at the creature, which clearly does not weigh 235 pounds.

Bobby: Well, apparently, he's lost a little pudge.

Dean: Maybe it's a-a lap-band side effect.

Dean laughs, Sam and Bobby do not. Bobby pokes a stick inside one of the b*llet wounds in the creature. It drips gray goo.

Bobby: What the hell? I think we better have a look under Gerald's hood.

Bobby and Sam are examining the creature's open chest cavity using forceps.

Bobby: God! Its organs are swimming in the stuff.

Dean comes into the room, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Dean: You guys getting hungry? I'm hungry.

Sam: What's that?

Bobby: His stomach. For a guy on a diet, Gerry here packed it in pretty good.

Sam: That's human right there.

Bobby: That's fresh Rick. Let's see. Plus... a pine cone? Pack of gum in the wrapper.

Sam: That's -- that's older. Maybe like a -- maybe Ranger Phil or the camper.

Bobby: What's that?

Sam: Looks like a -- yeah, that's a -- that's a cat's head.

Bobby: A glamper or two is one thing, but you got to be damn hungry to eat a cat's head.

Sam: Mm-hmm.

Bobby: Well, lookit here. I'm no Dr. Oz, but...

Bobby takes a large, lumpy, black object out of the creature's body.

Bobby: I think that's his adrenal glands.

Sam: Okay. And?

Bobby: Meant to be the size of hotel bar soap... and bright orange.

Bobby and Sam wince at the smell.

Sam: Ooh! All right, that might help explain the strength. Um, but whatever this thing is, it's not the Jersey Devil, but it sure as hell ain't Gerald Browder anymore.

Dean: Okay, guys, seriously. It's time for dinner?

INT. BIGGERSON's RESTAURANT – NIGHT

Dean is eating a sandwich. Bobby and Sam have only cups of coffee. Sam is reading from the New Jersey Police Missing Persons Agency website on his laptop.

Sam: Gerald Browder, 35, self-employed. Air-conditioning repairman.

Sam is now looking at a website for Browder Airconditioning. Gerald Browder was the owner/operator.

Sam: Missing person number three. Disappeared eight days ago.

Bobby: Well, that explains all the people who got eaten in the last eight days.

Sam: Yeah. Question is, what happened to him?

Dean is groaning as he eats his sandwich with large bites.

Sam: Dean. Uh, so, what do you think?

Dean: [talking with his mouth full]I'm not that worried about it.

Bobby: Excuse me?

Dean: That's funny, right? I could give two shakes of a rat's ass. Is that right? Do rats shake their ass, or is it something else? Eh.

Sam looks around the restaurant at the many customers eating the Same sandwich.

Sam: Give me that.

Sam snatches the sandwich away from Dean.

Dean: Whoa, whoa! Why?!

Bobby: There's some funky chicken in the TDK Slammer, ain't there?

Sam: Yeah.

Sam sniffs the sandwich and recoils.

INT. OLD HOUSE – NIGHT

Bobby sets the sandwich, wrapped in foil in the shape of a swan, down on a plate on the table.

Dean: This is stupid. My sandwich didn't do anything. I don't know what you think you're gonna find.

Sam unwraps the sandwich.

Bobby: There's something wrong with you, Dean.

Dean: Are you kidding? I'm fine! I -- I actually feel great. The best I've felt in a couple months. Cas? Black goo? I don't even care anymore. And you know what's even better? I don't care that I don't care. I just want my damn slammer back.

Sam: Dude, you are completely stoned, just like Ranger Rick was.

Bobby: Just like the dinner rush back at Biggerson's. And everybody's loving the Turducken.

Gray goo bubbles out from the sandwich.

Dean: I think you pissed off my sandwich.

More goo bubbles out.

Dean: That -- that's in me?

Sam: O-only half of it.

Bobby: Does that snot look familiar?

Sam: Okay, so whatever turned Gerry Browder into a pumpkin head... and is currently turning Dean into an idiot --

Dean: I'm right here. Right here.

Bobby: Is in the Turducken Slammer at Biggerson's.

Sam: Yeah.

Bobby: It's in the meat.

Dean: If I wasn't so chilled out right now, I would puke.

EXT. BIGGERSON's RESTAURANT - RECEIVING ENTRANCE – NIGHT

Sam: How's he doing?

Bobby is in the driver's seat and Sam in the passenger seat of a vehicle. Dean is in the back seat, asleep.

Bobby: He's sleeping it off. Tryptophan coma.

Sam: So, you think he's okay?

Bobby: Yeah, he's all right.

Sam: Good. So you don't worry about him?

Bobby: What do you mean? Before the Turducken?

Sam: Yeah. Yeah, I kind of mean more like, uh... more like ever since my head broke... and we lost Cas. I mean, you ever feel like he's -- he's going through the Same motions but he's not the Same Dean, you know?

Bobby: How could he be?

Sam: Right, yeah, but what if --

Bobby: What if what, Sam? You know, you worry about him. All he does is worry about you. Who's left to live their own life here? The two of you -- aren't you full up just playing Snuffleupagus with the Devil all the live long?

Sam: I don't know, Bobby. Seeing Lucifer's fine with me.

Bobby: Come again?

Sam: Look, I'm not saying it's fun. I mean, to be honest with you, I-I kind of see it as the best-case scenario. I mean...

Sam: ...at least all my crazy's under one umbrella, you know? I kind of know what I'm dealing with. A lot of people got it worse.

Bobby: You always were one deep little son of a bitch.

Sam: Wait, wait, wait. Here we go.

A delivery truck is backing up to the Biggerson's receiving entrance. The TRUCK DRIVER gets out of the truck and wheels cartons from the truck into the restaurant, then gets back into the truck and drives away. The truck reads "MIDWEST MEAT AND POULTRY WHOLESALE DISTRIBUTION."

Bobby: Well, I guess we follow him.

EXT. CAR PARK OUTSIDE N.E. LAW CENTER – NIGHT

A Woman is walking to her car. She screams as BRANDON runs out from some trees and tackles her to the ground. A car pulls up and a Man visible only from the chest down gets out, walks over to BRANDON and knocks him away from the Woman.

EXT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

The Midwest Meat truck pulls up to the warehouse and parks. Sam, Bobby and Dean are watching from their vehicle. Sam has binoculars.

Sam: That's weird, right? I mean, national franchise like Biggerson's getting meat from a place that looks like it wholesales Hong Kong knockoffs.

Dean: Okay. Yeah. It's a little weird.

The TRUCK DRIVER enters the warehouse.

Sam: All right, well, I guess we wait till they close up shop, go take a look around?

Bobby: Hang on.

A car pulls up to the warehouse and EDGAR gets out. The TRUCK DRIVER comes back out of the warehouse.

Sam: No.

Sam: Edgar.

Dean: Leviathans.

EDGAR opens the trunk and helps out BRANDON, whose head is covered with a hood. The TRUCK DRIVER takes BRANDON by the arm and leads him into the warehouse.

Dean: Son of a bitch.

Bobby: What the hell is going on?

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

The TRUCK DRIVER is leading a hooded BRANDON into the warehouse.

EDGAR: Put him with the others, if you don't mind.

Dr. GAINES: Edgar. Follow me. I've been so busy with this experiment, I didn't even realize you were back. It's, uh, big stuff.

EDGAR: I'm back because of the experiment. What's happening? You said you were refining the formula.

Dr. GAINES: Yes. Absolutely. And it's going great. The absorption rate is up in lower concentrations.

EDGAR: But it didn't solve our little issue with adverse reactions.

Dr. GAINES: Well, no. Not 100%.

The TRUCK DRIVER puts BRANDON into a cage next to other cages containing people and removes his hood. EDGAR looks at the cages.

EDGAR: Burn them.

Dr. GAINES: What? But they represent crucial test data. Where the additive formula went wrong, where my initial projections failed.

EDGAR: Dick is coming.

Dr. GAINES (to TRUCK DRIVER): Burn them.

EXT. WAREHOUSE – DAY

Dean and Bobby are sitting in their vehicle outside the warehouse. Bobby is holding a cell phone which is on speaker.

Sam (on phone, V-O): There's nothing happening back here at all.

Bobby (into phone): Yeah, okay, Sam. Well, they're pretty dug in, so why don't you finish circling and head on back?

Sam (on phone, V-O): Right.

Bobby hangs up.

Bobby: How's your head?

Dean: Well, I think the slammer's pretty much wore off. In between that and the 20 cups of coffee, I'm nicely tense and alarmed.

Bobby: I wasn't talking about that.

Dean: Oh, Bobby, don't -- don't go all Sigmund Freud on me right now, okay? I just got drugged by a sandwich.

Bobby: I want to talk about your new party line.

Dean: Party? What are you talking about? I don't even vote.

Bobby: "The world's a su1c1de case. We save it, it just steals more pills"?

Dean: Bobby, I'm here, okay? I'm on the case. What's the problem?

Bobby: I've seen a lot of hunters live and die. You're starting to talk like one of the d*ad ones, Dean.

Dean: No, I'm talking the way a person talks when they've had it, when they can't figure out why they used to think all this mattered.

Bobby: Oh, you poor, sorry... You're not a person.

Dean: Thanks.

Bobby: Come on, now. You tried to hang it up and be a person with Lisa and Ben. And now here you are with a mean old coot and a van full of g*n. That ain't person behavior, son. You're a hunter, meaning you're whatever the job you're doing today. Now, you get a case of the Anne Sextons, something's gonna come up behind you and rip your fool head off. Now, you find your reasons to get back in the game. I don't care if it's love or spite or a ten-dollar bet. I've been to enough funerals. I mean it. You die before me, and I'll k*ll you.

Dean: We need to scrape some money together, get you a condo or something.

Sam gets into the back seat of the vehicle.

Sam: Hey. Something's up.

Two black vehicles pull up as EDGAR and Dr. GAINES come out of the building. DICK ROMAN gets out of the second vehicle.

Bobby: Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt. It's Dick frigging Roman.

Dean: What? Who the hell is Dick frigging Roman?

TELEVISION CLIP: Reporter: Billionaire Dick Roman, seen here at a recent press conference, has been on the corporate-takeover warpath in the last several months and shows no signs of relenting.

At the bottom of the screen, a large headline reading "THE RISE OF DICK" appears throughout the clip.

DICK ROMAN (during press conference): I believe in good old American values, like unlimited growth. But it's like I always say -- if you want to win, then you got to be the shark. And a shark's got to eat.

Well, that's a great question. Yes, we have made new acquisitions. I don't believe in hostile takeovers. I believe in merging... and coming out on top.

Reporter: Whether at the helm of his America's cup-winning yacht or one of his Fortune 500 companies, Roman has never shied away from the spotlight. Roman's record-breaking series of motivational seminars, "When in Rome," have outsold every other money-making program on the market. A vocal member of the NRA and a steadfast supporter of the second amendment, Roman has started attracting some conservative political attention, as well.

POLITICAL COMMENTATOR: Roman is ruthless, but good-looking. I think he'll make a great candidate.

DICK ROMAN (being interviewed): Another great question. No, I am not running for political office at this time. But I do have a number-one bestseller.

The camera pans out and we see that the television clip was playing on Sam's laptop. Sam is now in the driver's seat and Bobby in the back.

Dean: Holy crap. What the hell is that?

Sam: That's one of the top 50 most powerful men in America, Dean.

Dean: Says here top 35 as of last month. Now it's all making sense. Remember when Crowley kept going on about hating Dick? I thought he was just being general. Pfft!

Bobby: Well, if the Leviathan got to him, then that means they're playing on a much bigger board than we were thinking.

Sam: So what, then? I mean, we can't exactly g*n them.

Bobby: No, but we got the drop on them. Means we got a chance to figure out what these guys are really doing here.

Dean looks at some surveillance equipment Bobby is assembling.

Dean: Whoa. Where'd you get that mother?

Bobby: It's on loan from Frank's big brother collection. It'll pick up vocal vibrations from window glass at half a mile. It's time to find out what these ugly bastards are up to.

INT. ROOM – DAY

A woman, boy and man are placidly eating Biggerson's sandwiches in front of the television.

TELEVISION: The patient is put under general anesthesia. The eye is immobilized, then a scalpel is used to sever the optic nerve.

DICK ROMAN, Dr. GAINES and a Woman appear at an observation window.

TELEVISION: When a macular detachment occurs, ? is superimposed on...

The camera angle changes and we see that there is another woman in the room, who is leaning back in an armchair with her eyes closed.

Dr. GAINES: The food additive that I've introduced into the Turducken has a near-100% rate of effectiveness. Once the subject tries it, they crave more within a few hours. With the very first dose, it starts to work on their DNA, slowing their metabolism, causing weight gain, and dampening their emotional range, which makes them perfectly complacent. As you can see, they have yet to notice that grandma is no longer with us. True, if you leave out a cooked patty for more than an hour, it reverts back to a somewhat, uh, unappealing state, but I have yet to have a case of leftovers.

DICK ROMAN: You know what I love? I mean, besides handball and a really crisp Chardonnay. I love progress. And I know that progress comes from collaboration, which is what makes moments like this so thrilling.

Dr. GAINES: I am so glad to hear you say that.

DICK ROMAN: Now, what can you tell me about your failures?

Dr. GAINES: Hmm? My...

DICK ROMAN: The ones that went off the rails after they ate your little treats.

Dr. GAINES: I, um... They're, uh... They've been very instructive.

DICK ROMAN: No. See, I asked for complacency. Not complacency and a 0.03% margin of hyperadrenalized cannibalism.

Dr. GAINES: I will have this under control.

The Woman holds up a newspaper.

DICK ROMAN: "Camping high season harshed by human burrito"? Have I ever mentioned how I feel about our little forays making the papers? But, again, collaboration. Progress. I want to turn this little mistake into a big fat teachable moment. Will you help me with that?

Dr. GAINES: Well... yes. Of course.

EXT. WAREHOUSE – DAY

Sam and Dean are in the vehicle. Dean is holding a cell phone that is on speaker.

Dean (into phone): Our side's still d*ad, Bobby. Anything with you?

Bobby is outside with his surveillance equipment and binoculars.

Bobby (on phone): Yeah, Same here. I got -- hold on. Yeah, I got movement -- my side, second floor, meeting room.

INT. SECOND FLOOR MEETING ROOM – DAY

DICK ROMAN enters the room, followed by the Woman, Dr. GAINES and EDGAR.

Woman: And I'll reschedule with the Senator for lunch Tuesday. You can deal with the archdiocese in the afternoon.

DICK ROMAN: Fine.

Bobby is able to hear the conversation via his surveillance equipment. The scene shifts between the meeting room and Bobby outside.

Dr. GAINES: Dick, please, let me explain to you what our program has to offer.

DICK ROMAN: No. Let me explain why we're shutting your program down.

Dr. GAINES: We're shutting it down? No, you can't --

DICK ROMAN: I'm shutting it down because of the one golden rule. Do you know it?

Dr. GAINES: Yes. "Don't make the papers." And I promise that --

DICK ROMAN: No, the golden rule is there's no such thing as monsters. Anything stirs their little pots to the contrary -- very bad for our plans. So, how can I use your mistake to communicate this to all your coworkers?

Dr. GAINES: Listen, sir, I will do anything. I will give anything to make this right.

DICK ROMAN: I know you will.

The Woman opens a briefcase and takes out a folded paper item. Dr. GAINES looks at EDGAR, who shrugs.

Dr. GAINES: You're bibbing me?

Dr. GAINES sits down. The Woman unfolds the item – a bib – and ties it around Dr. GAINES' neck.

DICK ROMAN: Do you know what you can give us, Doctor? Your example.

Dr. GAINES holds his hand up to his face with his fingers pointing towards his mouth.

Dean (into phone, V-O): What's happening now?

Bobby (on phone): Wait.

DICK ROMAN: Now, Doc. It's time.

Dr. GAINES' mouth transforms.

Bobby (on phone): Now I have officially seen it all.

Sam (into phone): Bobby, what is it?

Bobby (on phone): He's making the Doctor eat himself.

Dean (into phone): What?

Bobby (on phone): He's --

The TRUCK DRIVER appears in front of Bobby and punches him.

Dean and Sam find Bobby's broken surveillance equipment on the roof.

Dean: They got him.

Sam: Dean, there are at least four Leviathans out there. We don't even know how to k*ll one.

A van pulls up: ACME INDUSTRIAL CLEANING.

Dean: Well, it'll be quite a shock when we walk in through the front door, won't it?

INT. SECOND FLOOR MEETING ROOM – NIGHT

DICK ROMAN is signing papers at a desk. A sign on the wall behind him reads "RICHARD ROMAN ENTERPRISES."

Woman: We'll have the jet on standby at O'Hare. Thursday morning, you close on the land acquisition in Gleason.

DICK ROMAN: Fine.

Woman: And this came this afternoon.

The Woman hands DICK ROMAN a wooden box.

Woman: Sotheby's.

Bobby is sitting in an armchair near the desk.

DICK ROMAN: Outstanding! Thank you, Susan. Oh, and, Susan?

Susan: Hmm?

DICK ROMAN: Uh, tuh-tuh.

Susan picks up the bib, which is stained with black goo. She leaves the room.

DICK ROMAN: No, you're not tied up. Why waste the effort? We both know that you're not gonna get past me. How's your head?

Bobby: So you got Dick Roman.

DICK ROMAN: We can have whoever we want. We could have you, for example. If you were worth the effort.

Bobby: Oh, you're hurting my feelings.

DICK ROMAN: Well, it's a hard world, Bob. It's an us-eat-dog world.

Bobby: What do you got there?

DICK ROMAN takes a g*n out of the box from Sotheby's.

DICK ROMAN: Winning bid at auction. Beautiful. Known for their peerless sighting. I imagine you appreciate g*n.

Bobby: I'd appreciate one right about now.

DICK ROMAN loads the g*n with b*ll*ts from the case.

DICK ROMAN: Ooh-hoo-hoo-hoo. But I mean the machine, the idea. Just one of your species' most inspired inventions. I mean it. I really think you guys have spunk. You're like a planet of just the cutest little engines that could. But... Like the late, great, actual Dick Roman used to say to the whores he'd kick out of the presidential suite... "cute don't quite hack it, sugar."

DICK ROMAN points the g*n at Bobby.

Bobby: Oh, let's just cut to the chase. I clearly ain't worth the extra time I'm getting here.

DICK ROMAN: I'm gonna eat you, Bob. Yes. But I like my meals prepared. Besides, holding on to you could pay big dividends. I bet your friends are on their way to rescue the damsel.

Bobby: Nah, they're too smart. They know they don't have the numbers. It'd be su1c1de. I've run my race. Could die worse.

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

EDGAR and the TRUCK DRIVER are walking towards two men in suits who appear to be bodyguards. Dean and Sam enter carrying pressure sprayers. They spray the bodyguards, EDGAR and the TRUCK DRIVER, all of whom start to scream and moan as their skin burns. Sam's pressure sprayer reads "POWER CLEAN."

INT. SECOND FLOOR MEETING ROOM – NIGHT

DICK ROMAN and Bobby hear screaming.

DICK ROMAN: I'd stay in the chair.

DICK ROMAN tucks the g*n into his pants and leaves the room. Bobby looks at folders, plans and maps from a briefcase on DICK ROMAN's desk and loads the second g*n from the box from Sotheby's.

Bobby: Okay, sons of bitches. See what you're up to now. You're coming with me.

Bobby takes the folders and g*n. As he gets to the door, Susan opens it and knocks him down. Bobby loses hold of the folders and g*n, but is able to grab the g*n and sh**t Susan in the face. Bobby runs out of the office. Susan straightens up. There is a gob of black goo on her forehead.

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

DICK ROMAN is wiping his burning face with a handkerchief. Sam drops his empty pressure sprayer and backs into a corner. DICK ROMAN advances on him, his face healing.

DICK ROMAN: Sam... That is not how we communicate from a place of yes. That was bracing. Where'd you kids find this stuff?

Bobby sh**t DICK ROMAN in the back twice.

DICK ROMAN: Hey! That's mine.

Dean throws more cleaning liquid onto DICK ROMAN from behind. DICK ROMAN starts to sizzle and burn.

Dean: Go! Go!

Dean and Sam run out of the room.

DICK ROMAN: Would you stop it with that stuff?

Bobby follows Dean and Sam, but a large BODYGUARD blocks his way.

EXT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

Dean and Sam pull up to the warehouse in their vehicle.

Sam: Damn it, where's Bobby?

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

Bobby grabs a hook and swings it at the BODYGUARD. Black goo splatters the wall.

EXT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

Bobby runs out of the warehouse towards the vehicle.

Sam: Bobby! Come on! Come on! Come on!

Bobby opens the sliding door of the vehicle. DICK ROMAN comes out of the warehouse and draws his g*n. Bobby gets into the vehicle.

Bobby: Go! Go!

DICK ROMAN sh**t. Bobby closes the door. DICK ROMAN sh**t twice more as Dean drives away.

Dean: Son of a bitch! I'm glad you got in. He almost took your freaking head off.

Sam: Hey, Bobby, your hat.

Sam holds out Bobby's cap. Bobby doesn't respond. Sam notices that there is a b*llet hole in the hat. He and Dean look at the back seat.

Sam: Bobby? Oh, God. Bobby? Bobby?

Dean: Bobby?!

END
{"type": "series", "show": "Supernatural", "episode": "07x09 - How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters"}