- Who the hell...? - Leviathan!
- We should be friends, you and I. - I'd sooner swim through hot garbage...
...than shake hands with a mutation like you.
Bobby!
- What are you? - He's a prophet of the Lord.
- That's the word of God? - Yes.
What's Leviathan?
You can read it?
- Hello, Kevin. - Only way to kill Leviathan...
...is with a bone washed in the three bloods of the fallen.
Angel blood. You gotta bleed an Alpha.
And blood from the ruler of fallen humanity.
Hello, boys.
- You gonna give us the blood? - Happily. But not quite yet.
- Well, then when? - Last.
Good thing we got Crowley in our corner, right?
Seeing as how it all comes down to him.
What could possibly go wrong?
- Mr. Crowley. - Hello.
- How do you take it? - Alcoholic.
Shall we get on with this, then?
Just extending the hand of hospitality.
To a mutation like me?
Tired of swimming in hot garbage, are we?
Ha, ha, that was a little colorful, huh?
Well...
...didn't mean to offend.
Of course you did.
So if you're suddenly calling...
...I guess you're up to speed on the Winchesters.
Which means you intercepted the prophet.
And the prophet told you that my blood is the key to everything.
You know what I like about you?
Lack of pretension?
- You're smarter than you look. - Oh, well, now you're just flirting.
Not easy to kill me, but doable.
Especially for you lot. You kill angels.
Certainly wipe a demon off the board.
And yet here we are, negotiating like proper psychopaths.
Well, I assume you have a vial of your blood stashed somewhere.
In the event of your death, it goes directly to Sam and Dean.
See? Smart assumption.
One can't live on looks alone.
- Here's my offer. - All ears.
Full immunity for you and your constituency.
I'm talking free-range grazing for all demonkind.
I'm willing to cordon off, say, Canada.
You can work your little deals...
...have your way with the locals. All of Canada?
Have it.
Fair. And down here?
Oh, America's ours. Your sales team stays out. Period.
That's not up for negotiation.
We need America. They're so fat.
And in exchange?
The blood of one sadly unimpressive demon in New Jersey.
All I ask is that you give it to Frick and Frack...
...tell them it's yours, stand back, and let them come to me.
I can't deny I long to see those two digested once and for all.
You have a deal.
- In writing? - I don't kiss on the mouth.
Your loss.
But I just so happen to have a standard rider right here.
I do so like this part. Don't you?
- All right, exit's in 3 miles. - I still say this is a bad idea.
It was your idea. It was the best one either of us had.
- I said it as a joke. - It was a bad joke and a good idea.
Yeah, only because we got no magic spell, no book...
...nothing on how to find a freaking righteous bone.
- We can call Castiel again. - Dude, on my car.
He showed up naked...
...covered in bees.
Yeah, I'm not really sorry I missed that.
Price of stock hit an all-time high...
...following Roman's acquisition of SucroCorp. I say Roman's a buy.
Gotta disagree. I'm gonna call him a wait-and-watch.
- Come on, you're killing me. - Hear me out.
- This is a new sector for Roman. - Right.
He's holed up at SucroCorp headquarters right now.
So sit tight...
Holed up at SucroCorp, huh?
"Should the party of the first part...
...fail to inform the party of the second of his intent..."
Pause right there.
That should be "party of the second part vis-a-vis party of the first."
- We just amended clause 314 sub A. - Sub A.
That's right. You should do this professionally.
Splendid.
So, "Should the party of the, uh, second part..."
Well, I guess if we can't find a righteous bone in a freaking nunnery crypt...
All right. Listen to this.
"Sister Mary Benedict, uh, taught the learning impaired...
...died at age 23."
Nah, that's a little young. Find someone who's had time to cook.
Okay, well, there was, uh... Here, "Sister Mary Eunice.
Uh, fed the poor, became mother superior at age 60."
Sounds political. Power corrupts.
Ah, right, um...
Listen to this.
"Sister Mary Constant."
Eighty-three years of quiet, humble, nun-like goodness. What do you think?
Wow, I wanna be more righteous just reading this.
- Exactly. - All right. Well, I lay odds on her.
Here we go.
Yeah. Well, let's bone this nun.
Sorry.
"In which case, the party of the second part...
...forfeits all rights to Canada...
...ad infinitum."
- I think we're done here. - Susan!
- Yes, sir? - Take this from Mr. Crowley.
Make triplicates, get pens and a notary. We're ready to sign.
Is he trying to make a grand entrance or?
I don't know.
Son of a bitch. He's standing us up.
We summoned him. Doesn't he have to...?
Crowley wants to screw you, he'll screw you.
Or he can't come, because something went wrong.
Maybe.
Maybe it's good news.
- You deal with him. I can't anymore. - You might wanna be more specific.
I was laying low halfway across the world...
...when emo boy pops up out of nowhere and zaps me right back here.
- Why? - Go ask him.
He was your boyfriend first.
Hey, there.
So, Cass, what's, uh... What's the word?
Well, Dean, I've been thinking.
Monkeys are so clever.
And they're sensible in that they leave the skins on the bananas that they eat.
Is it really necessary to test cosmetics on them?
I mean, how important is lipstick to you, Dean?
Not very.
You wanna come inside and, uh, tell us what's going on?
Now, you understand I don't participate in aggressive activity.
Hmm, Sister Mary Constant. Good choice.
Why'd you go to Meg, Cass?
When I left, I wanted to observe the flowers.
And fruit, but flowers come first, obviously.
But I heard nothing from them.
You heard nothing from who?
The garrison.
- What happened to the garrison? - Finally the silence was deafening.
So I went to look.
To the home of the prophet.
You know, Leviathan can kill angels.
It's a reason my father locked them in purgatory.
They're the piranha that would eat the whole aquarium.
They're gone.
The entire garrison, dead.
If there's anyone left at all, they're in hiding.
Uh, I'm sorry. If the angels are dead, where's Kevin?
I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys.
- But where would I put them all? - Hey, focus.
- Is Kevin alive? - I don't wanna fight.
No, I'm not...
We're worried.
They took him. He's alive.
I felt responsible. It's in your hands now.
- Hold on a minute. - I feel better.
Guys, what's all that?
We called Crowley.
- You what? - Don't worry, he never showed.
- What do you mean, never...? - He stood us up.
Well, I'm sorry about that, but I'm outie. He could still show...
Show up at any time. Hello, boys.
Sorry I'm late.
This is an embarrassment of riches.
Stay, won't you?
There's really nowhere to run.
Don't even think of smoking out, pussycat.
- I got eyes all over the place. - Leave her be.
Castiel. When last we spoke, you...
...well, enslaved me.
I'm confused. Why aren't you dead?
I don't know.
Would you want to be? I can help with that.
- Enough. - It's enough when I say.
I came here to help, find out you've been lying to me...
...harboring an angel. Not just any angel.
The one angel I most want to crush between my teeth.
Oh, so you can crush angels now, huh?
You bore me, you know that? You've no sense of poetry.
Now, what do you have to say for yourself?
Well, I'm still, uh, honing my communication strategy.
I haven't even been back to heaven.
I keep thinking there are no insects there...
...but here, we have trillions.
They're making honey and silk.
And miracles, really.
What are you talking about?
Um, preferring insects to angels, I guess.
Here.
I can offer a token if you like. It's honey.
I collected it myself.
You're off your rocker.
He's off his rocker, is that it?
Karma's a bitch, isn't it?
Look, did you come here to, uh, donkey-punch your old grudges...
...or to help us end Dick? Pick a battle.
Well, I'm vexed.
I'd like to do both...
...but where's the fun in clobbering a ball of wet fur?
Text me when Sparkles here retrieves his marbles, I suppose.
Meanwhile...
...a prezzie.
Really? Just boxed up and ready to go?
I'm a model of efficiency.
Is that right? Then why were you late?
Dick had me in a devil trap.
He's not an idiot. He knows what you two are after.
- So, what did he offer you? - A fair deal.
In exchange for giving you the wrong blood.
It's demon, but is it mine?
It's my blood.
- Real deal. - Why should we trust you?
Good God, don't. Never trust anyone.
Little lesson I learned from my last business partner.
All right.
- Give us the blood. - Certainly.
Oh, bonus. Meg?
I'm gonna scoop you up, take you home, and roast you till you're jerky.
But not yet.
Cass can have you for now.
Hilariously, it seems he'd be upset at losing you.
And the boys need Cass to get Dick.
Don't they, Cass?
- Oh, I don't fight anymore. - Come on.
Given the particulars of your enemy, sadly, you're vital.
Son of a bitch.
Pure iron. Damn it.
All right, my mistake.
- Let's go. - No.
You stay away from me.
Will you please let me go home?
- I need you. - No.
PowerPoint presentation's on your desk for approval, sir.
Great. Susan, do I look like a fool?
Not in that particular body.
Good. Have I told you there are three rules to contract negotiation?
Bring breath mints, get it in writing, and have a plan for when they screw you.
Go to the freezer.
- The arm? - Yup, the arm. Thattagirl.
Sit.
Stay.
I'm Kevin.
Polly.
What are you doing here?
Sitting, I guess.
Are you a prophet?
So, basically, I'm on my own, then.
Well, one thing's for sure. We only get one shot.
This thing don't reload.
- Think Crowley's, uh...? - Double-crossing us?
- Yeah. - You gotta figure...
...who he wants dead more...
...us or Dick.
Depends what Dick offered.
Here we go.
Okay, um...
So do we, uh?
Uh, there's no magic words, nothing. You just...
Just go.
All right, then.
Where's all the thunder and lightning?
Uh, maybe it worked.
Awesome.
So none of this should cause you any ill effect.
I went to a little farm in Normandy for the wheat and the lettuce and tomato.
And I thoroughly examined and comforted the pig...
...before I slaughtered it for the ham.
Here. You need your strength.
Thanks, Cass.
Hey, Cass, why was Crowley so certain that you needed to come with us?
Crowley's wrong. I'll be waiting right here.
But, please, accept this sandwich as a gesture of solidarity.
Morning, sir.
- The delegates are on their way. - Perfect.
We'll want everything in place before they get here.
Send in the security detail, would you?
Hello, Mr. Roman.
Nice watch.
Get dressed.
Why does he want you to...?
I'm a vegan.
- You ready, Polly? - Mm-hm.
Well, I'm pleased as punch to see you all here.
Last time we were in one room, it was inside that angel.
As key players, I need you up to speed on every aspect of the program.
Not just the sudden influx of happy delicious stoners in your neighborhood.
Oh, eat up. The sushi's made of fresh orphan.
Ah, okay.
Alrighty.
The slaughterhouses.
Cutting-edge, humane, efficient. First one goes online next month.
What's the crowd-control strategy?
Glad you asked. We've laid employees at key junctures of law enforcement...
...starting with the 911 call.
Everyone feels taken care of. Everyone stays calm.
We'll up the dose just before harvest time.
They won't feel a thing.
We're taking a regional approach: Ohio, beta testing.
Wisconsin, processing.
Florida, breeding program.
Flip to page 10. We're having a ball buying fertility clinics. Real juicy stuff.
Why are you out of your cage, mouse?
Now I wanna talk to you about something I'm really excited about.
Everyone, meet Polly.
Got it yet?
Here we go.
Thank you, Charlie, wherever you are.
Gotcha, Dick.
Yeah, that's, uh... That's second floor.
And that... What's that?
What the hell?
Is that Dick?
And that's Dick.
Son of a bitch.
So genetic propensity for these three cancers, zapped.
She's too stoned to care.
Polly, take off your dress.
She's a slip of a thing, isn't she?
And she eats like a linebacker.
Bottom line, we're not making art.
We wanna engineer the perfect beast. We want meat.
And these zippy little hummingbirds have to be bred out fast.
Additive 3.0.
Keep in mind, the stuff we're shipping, a little diluted, longer-acting.
Additive 3.0 targets only the characteristics we wanna breed out.
It'll be added to nondairy creamer and multivitamins.
First shipment heads to Los Angeles tomorrow.
So watch those dysentery reports.
And stop by the lab before you go.
Because those creamer cups are just adorable.
Cycle through again.
That's the maid from the motel.
What motel?
Oh, no.
- Oh, Bobby, what are you doing? - Bobby's...?
- Look, just, uh, wait here. - Are you out of your mind?
You got the weapon and eyes on Dick, plural.
I'll take care of Bobby.
- Sam. Hey! - Shut up.
Bobby? I know you're in there.
Listen to me. There are cameras everywhere.
There's one right there. Stop, okay? You're gonna get her killed.
Bobby! Damn it!
How are you gonna kill Dick, huh? You can't.
Good enough for me.
No. I'm not letting you go.
- Get out of here, Sam. - No.
Bobby, stop.
Stop.
No!
Okay, thanks.
She's fine.
- Checking out of the hospital tonight. - Oh, that's positive.
Tell me again why you turned tail for some maid.
You were right there.
- Shut up, Meg. - Because Dick made more Dicks.
He must have kept a chunk of the original Dick Roman somewhere.
- They'd all have to touch it. - Hey, Shifty, what's your problem?
Do we need a cat?
Doesn't this place feel one species short?
You got anything to say on the topic of Dicks?
- Crowley was pretty sure you could help. - I can't help.
You understand? I can't.
I destroyed everything and I will destroy everything again.
Can we please just leave it at that?
No. No, we can't.
- Dean. - We can't leave it.
You let these freaking things in.
So you don't get to make a sandwich. You don't get a cat.
Nobody cares that you're broken, Cass. Clean up your mess.
You know...
...we should play Twister.
Nice. You scared off the Empire's only hope.
Meaning?
It occur to you every one of those things was in Cass?
He knows them.
He can see past the meat suits.
So he'll be able to spot the real fake Dick Roman.
Gold star, sugar-pants.
Too bad he's Froot Loops. You might have had a chance.
No point in looking for a tell.
They all downloaded Dick's brain, got the same tells.
All right. Then maybe the question is, what would the real Dick be doing?
Is that the best you can do?
Idiots.
- Bobby, we didn't know if you'd, uh... - You should have.
You got the flask.
Dumb.
You should have burned it right off.
- Bobby... - I'm still jonesing to go back...
...grab some poor bastard...
...kamikaze them going after Dick.
It's bad.
America is for go-getters.
Those who get off their butts and make it happen.
Let's be real.
I damn near killed you and that woman.
- It wasn't your fault, Bobby, not really. - Right.
That's just what ghosts turn into.
I really bet the farm I could outsmart that.
So, what's it feel like?
What? Going vengeful?
It's an itch you can't scratch out.
Look.
I'm done.
Go get Dick.
But don't do it because you think it'll scratch the itch.
Do it because it's the job.
And when it's your time, go.
Here's to running into you guys on the other side.
Only not too soon, all right?
- Cass, I need a wingman. - Dean...
You don't wanna jump into the jaws of death, that's fine.
How about we run a little errand?
- Thanks for the lift. - My pleasure.
- Dean... - Cass.
We've been over it. I get it. You can't help.
If we attack Dick and fail, you and Sam die heroically, correct?
I don't know. I guess.
And at best, I die trying to fix my own stupid mistake...
...or I don't die, I'm brought back again.
I see now it's a punishment, resurrection. It's worse every time.
Sorry, uh, we're talking about God crap?
I'm not good luck, Dean.
Know what? Bottom of the ninth and you're the only guy left on the bench...
...sorry, but I'd rather have you.
Cursed or not.
And anyway, nut up. All right?
We're all cursed. I seem like good luck to you?
What?
I don't wanna make you uncomfortable...
...but I detect a note of forgiveness.
Yeah, well, we're probably gonna die tomorrow, so...
Well, I'll go with you.
And I'll do my best.
Thanks.
So can I ask the plan?
Well, according to Crowley, Dick knows we're coming.
So we're gonna announce ourselves. Big.
Later, ho-nuggets.
The king of hell will see you now.
Kevin. Okay, buddy. We gotta hustle, okay?
- Wait. We can't leave yet. - We can. We gotta go.
Dick's got creamer in his lab. He's gonna kill all the skinny people.
Wait, what? Slow down.
We have to blow up the lab, Sam. Please.
Yeah, fine, let's go.
You know, I think this might end up the slickest little genocide in history.
- Thank you, sir. - Just saying, I smell promotion.
Little abrupt, but okay.
Castiel.
Good to see you again.
Thanks for the ride into paradise.
And good on you.
Pulling that together: A-plus.
Well, you don't think this will work, do you?
- You trust that demon? - You sure I'm even me, Dean?
No.
But he is.
The thing when dealing with Crowley: He will always find a way to bone you.
This meeting's over.
Did you really think you could trump me?
Honestly?
No.
Figured we'd have to catch you off guard.
Sam, we should go.
What the hell?
More chompers any second, Sam.
Not to worry.
I have a small army of demons outside.
Cut off the head and the body will flounder, after all.
Think if you'd had just one king since before the first sunrise...
...you'd be in a kerfuffle too.
- Which is exactly what you wanted. - So did you.
Without a master plan, the Levis are just another monster.
Hard to stomp, sure, but you love a challenge.
Your job is to keep them from organizing.
Where's Dean?
That bone has a bit of a kick.
God weapons often do.
Should put a warning on the box.
- Where are they, Crowley? - Can't help you, Sam.
Sorry, Sam, prophet's mine.
You got what you wanted.
Dick's dead, saved the world.
So I want one little prophet.
Sorry, moose, wish I could help.
You certainly got a lot on your plate right now.
It looks like you are well and truly on your own.
Wake up.
Good. We need to get out of here.
- Where are we? - You don't know?
Last I remember, we ganked Dick.
And where would he go in death?
- Wait, are you telling me...? - Every soul here is a monster.
This is where they come to prey upon each other for all eternity.
We're in purgatory?
How do we get out?
I'm afraid we're much more likely to be ripped to shreds.
Cass, I think we better g...
Cass?