EXT. STREET – NIGHT
A magician demonstrated turning a heart-shaped balloon into a dove, to applause from the crowd. A sign on a nearby streetlight read Iowa Celebrates Magic Week Welcome the International Association of Magicians Sioux City.
INT. BAR – NIGHT
A magician practiced a card-handling move. Another magician, an old man, Jay, demonstrated a one-handed cut to the bartender.
"Charlier cut," Jay said.
"Wow. You're really good," a bartender commented.
Another magician, a younger man, Vance, and his assistant were sitting nearby.
"Yeah, great. Hey, show us another," Vance told Jay.
"Finish your drink, Vance," the assistant ordered.
"This is a simple riffle shuffle," Jay informed as he shuffled the deck and fumbled some of the cards. Vance laughed.
"Do a card trick for me," the bartender said.
"Ooh, here we go, The Incredible Jay," Vance stated.
"All right, young lady, would you please tell me when to stop?" Jay replied as he riffle the edge of the cards, stopping when:
"Stop," the bartender demanded.
Jay held up part of the deck, showing the card he was stopped on. He hadn't seen the card himself: it was the three of spades.
"This is your card. Commit it to memory, hm?" Jay said as he put the deck back together, the three of spades apparently somewhere in the middle.
"That's incredible, Jay," Vance noted sarcastically.
"Don't be a jerk," the assistant retorted.
"Right, now..." Jay began as he spread the cards out face-down, then used the four of diamonds to flip them all face-up. "Do you see your card?"
The bartender frowned. "Um...no, I don't."
Jay played with the cards, making the bartender laugh. "No, the cards say no."
Vance stage-whispered, "Check his pocket."
"For God's sake, Vance," the assistant muttered.
Vance got up. "Oh, just check—check the damn pocket!"
"So, if you then would remove—" Jay was cut off.
Vance came over and cleared his throat. He pulled a card out of Jay's pocket and turned it over. "This your card? It's the three of spades."
"Why are you so mean? Can't you just leave the old guy alone?" the bartender asked.
Jay was taken aback.
INT. THEATER – NIGHT
I Am the Douchebag by Christopher Lennertz and Steve Frangadakis played. Another magician, a young man, Jeb Dexter, was practicing a trick involving flying on wires, smoke, and flames in the palms of his hands, to a small audience.
Yet another magician, Charlie, an old man with a birthmark above his right eye, was one of the audience members. So was Jay and so was yet another magician, Vernon, an old man.
"Is he wearing eyeliner?" Charlie questioned.
Vernon squinted. "Can't tell. I'm blinded by all the sterling silver."
"The light has to find me!" Jeb cried as the music stopped. "Get it? It, it has to find me!"
"Let's take it back," the helper said.
"What a douchebag," Charlie muttered.
"Would you guys give it a rest? You're giving me a headache," Jay told them.
"Oh, come on, Jay. His misdirect is shaking his ass like an Eighth Avenue hooker," Vernon said.
"Used to be about skill," Charlie reminded them.
"Yeah, used to be," Jay agreed. "Used to be. Listen to the two of you. It's pathetic. Bitter old men talking about the glory days. You know what? This douchebag isn't the joke. We are."
"Hey, who you calling a joke?"
"Me, for one."
Jeb's act was back on.
"That used to be us," Jay said.
Jay continued. "You know, maybe he is a douchebag—"
"But he's playing the main stage and we can't even afford an assistant. What the hell are we doing?" Jay wondered.
"We're doing all right," Charlie replied.
"No, we're not. We're sad, we're old, and we're dying."
"Jay."
"I'm gonna do the Table of Death tonight."
"No. No, you're not, Jay. Don't be crazy," Vernon argued.
"You almost killed yourself the last time you tried it, and that was thirty years ago!" Charlie cried.
"Oh, who cares if it kills me?" Jay shot back. "At least I'll go out with a headline."
INT. DINNER THEATER – NIGHT
Someone in the audience was yawning. Jay was onstage in a tuxedo.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what you are about to see is not a trick or an illusion—simply a display of daring and dexterity," Jay said as he laid down on a table labeled Table of Death. Charlie cuffed him down. "Now, young lady, if you'll please check the bindings, you'll see they're very real. Very tight."
A young woman tested each of the cuffs.
"Thank you. You may take your seat," Jay told the audience.
"Damn straight they're tight. You sure you can slip them?" Charlie asked.
Jay smirked.
Above the table were ten swords, each with a blade stained red. Charlie pulled a curtain, hiding Jay and the swords from view. The lights went out. Backstage, Vernon did the sign of the cross. Charlie picked up a miniature blowtorch and went over to Vernon. They communicated silently. Jay tried to slip the cuffs; they were too tight. Charlie lit the blowtorch, then the end of a cord attached to a rope.
EXT. HOTEL PATRICIA – NIGHT
Vance and his assistant were leaving Pat's Pub.
"Show's in an hour, Vance. Try to be on time," the assistant said as Vance waved her off.
INT. THEATER – NIGHT
The cord burned with much light and smoke and sparks. A light behind the curtain showed Jay's silhouette as he struggled to get out of the cuffs.
EXT. STREET – NIGHT
Vance walked along.
INT. THEATER – NIGHT
The cord burned to the end and through the rope. The swords fell, piercing the table. Jay's silhouette was still on the table.
EXT. STREET – NIGHT
Vance stumbled, pressing his hands to his chest, and fell.
INT. THEATER – NIGHT
The lights were back on. Charlie tugged one curtain aside, Jay the other. Jay took a bow. A standing ovation. Jay accepted the applause, looking confused.
EXT. STREET – NIGHT
Vance was lying on the ground. Blood soaked his white shirt from several places under the shirt.
EXT. STREET – DAY
Jeb Dexter was doing card tricks for an audience. "This, this isn't a trick, okay? I, I, I don't do tricks. This is a demonstration—about demons and angels—" Dean and Sam, wearing suits, followed by Kit, approached Jeb, "—love and lust—"
"What a douchebag," Dean muttered.
There was a cameraperson and a microphone person in the audience.
"—all that stuff mixed up in my head."
"That's Jeb Dexter," Sam told his brother.
"I don't even want to know how you know that," Dean replied.
"He's famous, kind of."
Jeb continued. "—but whatever happens, no matter how—"
"For what? Douchebaggery?" Dean wondered.
Kit frowned. "Hey! That's a bad word, Daddy."
"—messed up it gets, don't touch me, okay? For your own safety." Jeb inhaled.
Jeb exhaled, shook his head, then imitated something like a seizure. With one hand he grabbed for the cards in his other hand and scattered them, flinging them in the direction of the window behind him. "Go back to Hell, demon!"
The card that stuck to the window was the ace of diamonds. Jeb dragged his hand over the card to show that it was on the far side of the glass. "Is this your card?"
Applause sounded.
"You've got to be kidding me," Dean muttered again. "A fake demon possession?"
Dean headed away and Sam and Kit followed.
"I can't believe people actually fall for that crap," Dean said.
"It's not all crap," Sam told him.
"What part of that was not—a steaming pile of BS?"
"Okay, that was crap, but that's not all magicians. It takes skill."
"Oh, right, right, I forgot. You were actually into this stuff, weren't you?I mean, you had, you had, like a deck of cards and a wand."
"Dude, I was thirteen. It was a phase."
"Just—it bugs me. You know, playing at demons and, and magic, when the real thing will kill you bloody."
"Like a guy who drops dead of ten stab wounds—without a single tear in his shirt?"
"That's what I'm talking about."
INT. VANCE'S HOTEL ROOM – DAY
Vance's assistant tossed a bunch of metal rings into a mostly-packed trunk. She turned to face Sam, Kit and Dean.
"So did your boss have any enemies that you know of?" Dean asked.
"Vance had plenty of enemies," the assistant replied as she leaned down and grabbed the end of a series of tied-together handkerchiefs.
"How so?" Sam questioned.
"He would steal from other magicians. All the time."
"What would he steal?"
"Stage effects, closeup techniques, anything he could get his hands on."
"Is that enough to get him killed?" Dean wondered.
"These guys take this stuff pretty seriously." She moved a cloth off a white rabbit. "There you are." She bent down to pick up and pet the rabbit.
"Did you find anyfing weird in Vance's stuff? Well, weirder?" Kit asked. "I like bunnies."
"Matter of fact, I did." She put the bunny in a bag and pulled out a Rider-Waite tarot card: the Ten of Swords. The image on the card was of ten swords sticking out of a man's back.
"I'm guessing this didn't belong to Vance," Sam said.
"He hated card tricks. Never wanted them around. Let alone in his precious cape." She handed over the card. Sam looked at both sides of it: it looked like a perfectly ordinary tarot card.
INT. JAY'S HOTEL ROOM – DAY
Jay was practicing card tricks when someone knocked on the door. He grinned and went over to open the door, then waved him in: it was Charlie.
"You gonna tell me how you did it?" Charlie asked.
"Did what?" Jay answered.
"You know what."
"The great ones never give away the how."
"Yesterday you were sad, old, and dying. Today you're one of the great ones? Come on. This is me you're talking to."
"You didn't think I could do it."
"No, Jay, I didn't. You're my friend, my best friend. I just didn't want to see you get hurt."
Jay went back to playing with the cards. "Charlie, you want to see something? Look at this." He cut the deck several times and extracted three cards from it, all three aces.
"Not bad."
"'Not bad'? I've been working to pull an ace out of the middle of the deck for years, just one, and now I can pull three."
"Still missing the ace of hearts."
"I want to do the Executioner tonight."
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"It's just a rope slip."
"Houdini wouldn't try the Executioner."
"Exactly. Think about it, Charlie. If I can pull this off..."
"I think you're pushing your luck."
"It wasn't luck. It wasn't. Here, stand over there." Jay moved Charlie to where he wanted him. "Let's not end up like this, Charlie, a couple old farts doing birthdays and bar mitzvahs."
"Beats dying."
"Does it?"
"I would do anything for you. You know that. But I will not watch you die. I'll miss that show."
"No, you'll be there. You're always there for me. Check your pocket."
Charlie checked his coat pocket, then his shirt pocket; the ace of hearts was there. Charlie laughed. "That's good, Jay. That's pretty damn good."
"I can do it, Charlie. I want to do it."
Charlie nodded and Jay laughed.
INT. THEATER – DAY
There was a sign up that read The Incredible Jay over the Table of Death. Jeb Dexter was on the phone nearby.
"It's a lame gig," Jeb said. "I'm in a fleabag hotel doing this man-of-the-people crap, and freaking Angel's in Vegas doing Cirque du Soleil! That should have been mine."
Jeb sat at a table. Charlie and Vernon were at an adjacent table. Dean approached them. Sam stayed with Kit.
"All right, boys, get it in gear, I don't got all day," Jeb told them.
Jeb's cameraperson and microphone person started moving. Dean crouched behind Vernon.
"You Vernon Haskell?" Dean asked.
"Who's asking?" Vernon questioned.
"Federal agents. Ulrich. Hammett," Dean replied as he showed his FBI ID. "Looking into the death of Patrick Vance."
Jeb talked into the camera. He was sitting across from Jay. "I'm Jeb Dexter. This is Devil Twist. We're chilling at the International Magicians' Convention, which is a dope chance to tip my hat to the wicked cats who came before me. Smoking hot effect last night, Jim."
"Jay," Jay corrected.
"Huh?"
"My name is Jay."
"Yeah, whatever. We can loop it later."
"What a douchebag," Vernon muttered.
"Couldn't agree more," Dean replied. "Is, uh—" He pulled out the Ten of Swords. "This familiar to you?"
"Should it be?"
Dean looked at him. "Well, I heard that you used tarot cards in your act."
"My act?" Vernon laughed. "That was a long time ago. I haven't touched a deck in years, you know..." He held up a shaking hand.
"Do you know someone that might use them now?"
"Well, there was a guy down on Bleeker Street."
"Oh, yeah. He, he peddles that kind of specialty stuff," Charlie told the hunter.
"Did he have a problem with Vance?" Dean questioned.
"Matter of fact, Vance crossed him about a year ago. Probably cost him fifty grand in royalties."
Charlie nodded.
"You know the exact address?" Dean asked.
"Four twenty-six Bleeker," Vernon answered.
"Ask for Chief," Charlie added.
"Chief," Dean noted. "Thank you."
EXT. BLEEKER STREET – NIGHT
Dean walked along the street until he came to a neon sign saying 426. Dean knocked on the bars on the door. The chain-link door swung open, revealing a young man who eyed Dean.
"I'm , uh, here to see Chief," Dean said.
The young man raised his eyebrows and opened the barred door.
INT. BUILDING – NIGHT
Dean followed the young man downstairs.
"Stay here. Don't touch anything," the man ordered.
The young man left. Dean looked around. There was graffiti on the walls and the bass line of music was audible. A door opened and Dean turned to face it: a large man, Chief, climbed the stairs, backlit, and the music was more clearly heard. Chief was wearing all leather and carrying a flogger, which he slapped into his other hand a couple times.
"You are really gonna get it tonight, big boy," Chief said.
"There's been a misunderstanding. I, uh, think I've been had," Dean replied.
"Oh, you ain't been had till you been had by the Chief."
Dean frowned.
"Oh, and before we get started, what's your safe word?" Chief asked.
Dean swallowed.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
Sam was sitting at a table working on his laptop. Kit was sleeping on one of the beds. A knock sounded at the door. Sam looked up, waited, then got up and went to peer through the peephole. He sighed and opened the door. It was Ruby, arms folded.
"What are you doing here, Ruby?" Sam questioned.
"I should be asking you the same thing," Ruby shot back as she entered.
"I'm working a job."
"The whole world's about to be engulfed in hellfire, and you're in Magictown, USA."
Sam laughed. "You got something against magic?"
"That would almost be funny if thirty-four seals hadn't been broken already. Thirty-four, Sam. That's over halfway. The angels are losing this war. Every day is one day closer, and if someone doesn't do something soon—"
"And that someone is me?"
"Who else would it be?"
"I don't know where these seals are. I don't know squat. So why don't you tell me where you'd like me to start?"
"Well, you can quit dicking around here, for one. Bigger fish, Sam. And if the seals are being broken, you might want to go after the one doing the breaking."
"Lilith?"
"Cut the head off the snake. You're the only one who can stop her, Sam. So step up and kill the little bitch."
"Oh, I'm game, believe me. It's not the psychic thing I got a problem with."
"Yeah, I know what you got a problem with, but tough. It's the only way."
"No."
"You know, this would all be so much easier if you'd just admit to yourself that you like it. That feeling that it gives you."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh I don't, huh? Fine." Ruby went to leave. "It's simple. Lucifer rises, the apocalypse starts. You think that you have demons on your hands now? People are gonna die, Sam. Oceans of people. So you just let me know when you're ready." She left.
INT. THEATER – NIGHT
Sam and Kit stood near an entrance. Dean came up behind them and asked, "Find anything interesting?"
"What? Uh, no. You?" Sam questioned.
Dean shook his head. "Nothing I want to talk about, or think about, ever again."
Vernon and Charlie stood together.
"He's crazy, and you know it," Vernon said.
"He says he can do it," Charlie replied.
"Did you even try to talk him out of it?"
"Till I was blue in the face. But I tell you, Vernon, there was... there was something in his eyes."
"'In his eyes'? You're both nuts."
Dean, Sam and Kit approached.
"The Chief, huh?" Dean said.
"What's the matter? Chief not either of your type?" Charlie questioned.
Charlie smirked. Dean smirked back.
"You know, I could have you both arrested for obstruction of justice," Dean told them.
"How? You're no Fed," Vernon replied.
"We con people for a living, son. Takes more than a fake badge to get past us," Charlie explained.
Dean laughed, as did Sam. Kit looked between them with a frown.
"You got us. Yeah, we—we are actually—aspiring magicians," Dean lied.
"Yeah, we -- We came to the convention 'cause we thought we could learn something," Sam added.
Kit nodded. "Yeah, to, um, get some ideas for our new show."
"Ooh, what kind of show?" Vernon wondered.
"Well, it's-- It's a-" Dean trailed, struggling to come up with something plausible while giving his daughter a wink.
"It's a brother act," Sam said.
"Yeah. Yeah, you know, with the rings and doves and... rings. The little girl helps out however she can."
"You want to learn something? Stick around," Charlie told them.
Jay spoke to the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, what you're about to witness is a feat so daring, so dangerous, even the great Houdini dared not attempt it. I give to you... The executioner!"
INT. JEB'S HOTEL ROOM
Jeb was posing in front of a mirror.
INT. CLUB
Jay continued. "Now, sir, as you can see, this jacket is the real article. Thank you, sir. You may take your seat. Now, I will have one minute -- 60 seconds -- To escape certain death. Let's see if I can do it." The curtain fell and Jay's silhouette was seen struggling to get out of the straightjacket.
INT. JEB'S HOTEL ROOM
As Jeb posed, a noose moved by itself and positioned itself behind him.
INT. CLUB
Jay could be seen still maneuvering out of the straightjacket.
"I don't think he's gonna make it," Dean said.
INT. JEB'S HOTEL ROOM
The noose dropped around Jeb's neck and pulled him up, hanging him.
INT. CLUB
Jay pushed aside the curtain, unharmed.
"Oh! That was amazing! That was freakin' amazing!" Dean cried.
Sam frowned. "That was... not humanly possible."
Kit grinned. "That was so super cool!"
INT. JEB'S HOTEL ROOM
Jeb hung from the noose tied to the ceiling fan, dead.
INT. HOTEL ROOM
"Looks like this guy Jay was a pretty big deal in the '70s," Sam commented.
Kit had been put in the car.
"Which in magician land means what, exactly?" Dean asked.
Sam met his eyes. "Big enough to play Radio City Music Hall."
"What got him stuck in their "where are they now?" File?"
"He got old."
"Okay, so maybe incredible Jay is using real magic to stage a comeback."
"It's possible. Some kind of spell that works a death transference."
"How does the tarot card mix into it?"
"I don't know."
"Man... hope I die before I get old. Whole thing seems brutal, don't it?"
"You think we will?"
"What?"
"Die before we get old."
"Haven't we both already?"
"But she very well could at any time. You know what I mean, Dean. I mean, do you think we'll still be chasing demons when we're 60?"
"No, I think we'll be dead... for good. What? You want to end up like -- Like Travis? Huh? Or Gordon, maybe?"
"There's Bobby."
"Oh, yeah, there's a poster child for growing old gracefully."
"Maybe we'll be different, Dean."
"What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life."
"What if we could win?"
""Win"?"
"If there was a way we could just... put an end to all of it."
"Is there something going on you're not telling me?"
"No."
"Sammy."
"No. Look, I'm just saying... I just wish there was a way we could... go after the source. That's all. Cut the head off the snake."
"Well, the problem with the snake is that it has a thousand heads. Evil bitches just keep piling out of the Volkswagen."
"Yeah. Guess you're right."
"Why don't you go see if you can track down Jay? I'll see what I can dig up on this tarot card."
INT. HOTEL LOBBY
"Hey," Sam greeted.
"Maid found Jeb hanging from the ceiling fan. Police think it was a suicide," Dean informed as he pulled out another tarot card, this time of the hanged man. "I beg to differ. Pulled a little sleight of hand myself."
"On Dexter's body?"
"Yeah, so I'm thinking if this spell is a death transference, then these cards work like black-magic targets."
"Any connection between the victims?"
"Jeb was a total douchebag to Jay yesterday."
"What about the first vic? Uh, Vance?"
"Asked around. Apparently, Vance was heckling Jay at the bar the day he was killed."
"Okay, so Jay sneaks a card into Vance's pocket, does the table of death..."
"And Vance takes ten swords to the chest."
"Then Jay slips a noose and Jeb doesn't. Hell of a trick."
"Yeah, I think it's time we had a little chat with Jay. Any luck tailing him?"
"He slipped me."
"He's a 60-year-old."
"He's a magician."
Sam and Dean followed Jay to his hotel room.
"Up against the wall!" Dean ordered.
"God, who are you? What do you want?" Jay asked.
"Now!"
"We know what you've been up to," Sam told him.
"You been working some real bad mojo to jump-start your act."
Jay frowned. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Look, we know you put a spell on those tarot cards," Sam said.
"Messing with real magic?" Dean added.
""Real magic"?" Jay repeated. "Come on, there's no such thing as real magic."
Dean raised a brow. "Oh, is that so?"
"Yeah, believe me. I've been around this stuff my whole life. It's all just -- It's -- It's illusions. It's tricks. It -- It's all fake."
"Jeb Dexter strung up -- was that just an illusion?"
"What? Something happened to Jeb?"
"He was found hanged in his room," Sam informed. "Right after you slipped the noose last night."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Please... Just let me go."
"Something's not right," Dean noted.
"Usually they're whipping some badass hoodoo at us by now," Sam said.
Sam and Dean had tied Jay to a chair.
"What do you want to do?" Dean questioned.
"All right, so, if it's not him, who is it?" Sam wondered.
"Even if Jay's not working the magic, he's still getting the reward. His shows are selling out."
"All right. So, then, whoever it is, they're obviously in Jay's corner."
"All right, so we got Vernon and Charlie on the list. Anyone else?"
"Uh... We could always ask him."
Jay had escaped from the chair and was gone.
"Guess we should have seen that one coming," Dean commented.
"Come on. He couldn't have gotten that far," Sam replied.
Sam and Dean left the room and Jay peeked out of the closet.
"No way he could outrun us," Sam said.
"Maybe he vanished. I mean, he really is good," Dean guessed.
"Or he found a back door."
Jay came up behind them as the police come into the lobby. "That's them! Those are the three nut jobs that just broke into my room!"
INT. BACKSTAGE OF THEATER
"They said my act is killing people," Jay said. "They said that I was using real magic, that I was casting spells on tarot cards."
""Real magic,"" Charlie repeated. "Those guys are nuts. You're lucky to be alive."
"You don't think..."
"What?"
"Well, the things that I can do now -- The cards."
"You've been working the cards your whole life."
"Well, what about the escapes? I haven't been able to slip a pair of cuffs in 30 years. And then there was the way that -- that Patrick Vance died. And that Jeb Dexter."
"Yeah, no great loss there."
"Oh, Charlie, he didn't deserve to die."
"You had nothing to do with it."
"He was hanged the same night that I performed the executioner."
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you actually believe those guys? That there was some kind of "real magic" involved?"
"No. I don't know. I don't know, maybe. I shouldn't go on tonight, Charlie."
"Are you kidding me? You have a sold-out house out there. Sold out! When was the last time that happened?"
"The other night... When I was doing the table of death, I was, um... I was gonna kill myself. And I have no idea how I got out alive."
"But you did. Somehow, you did. Jay... when you were in your day you were incredible. "The incredible Jay." You were the best I ever saw. And now you got it back. I don't know how, but it doesn't matter. Just to see you at the top of your game again. Hell, it makes me feel young."
"But-"
"No buts, Jay. This may be mana from Heaven, I don't know, but whatever it is, you don't throw it away."
INT. THEATER - STAGE
Jay laid on the table of death and Charlie lit the rope holding the plate of swords up. Charlie went backstage to Vernon and Jay stood, unharmed.
"Oh my God somebody gonna call 911?" a woman asked.
"I don't know," an audience member replied.
"What's the..." Jay began as he found Charlie covered in stab wounds.
INT. HOTEL LOBBY
"Jay. Thanks for dropping the charges," Sam said.
"You mind telling us why you did it?" Dean asked.
"We have to talk," Jay told them.
INT. BAR
Jay continued. "I was just a kid when we first met. All I knew was how to cheat at cards. Charlie got me out of more scrapes than I can count. Hell, I would have been dead by the age of 20 if it hadn't been for him." He sighed. "He was more than my friend. He was my brother."
"I'm sorry, Jay," Sam apologized.
"Look, I should have listened to you guys when you told me that my show was killing people."
"Well, you weren't the one pulling the trigger," Dean reasoned.
"Yeah, but someone did, and I want to find out who did this to Charlie, so I'll do whatever you guys say. Just tell me what to do."
"Jay, whoever's doing this... They like you. They're probably close to you. Did Charlie and Vernon get along?" Sam questioned.
"No. No, it's not Vernon."
"He's the only one that makes sense," Dean said.
"Charlie and Vernon were your family, Jay," Sam reminded him.
"And now Charlie's gone," he added, glancing at his daughter who had seated herself at a table.
"Yeah, but... they butted heads sometimes, but Vernon could never do something like this," Jay said.
"See, the thing about real magic is it's a whole lot like crack," Dean replied. "People do surprising things once they get a taste of it."
"You better be damn sure about this. Vernon's all I got left."
INT. VERNON'S HOTEL ROOM
Vernon picked up the phone. "Yeah? Yeah, okay. I'll be there in two shakes. I got something to tell you anyway."
After Vernon left, Sam and Dean, holding Kit's hand, entered Vernon's hotel room.
"Wow. It's like a... magic museum," Sam commented.
"You must be in Heaven. This guy doesn't travel light," Dean said. "Kit, don't touch anything."
"He's been on the road his whole life. Probably everything he owns is in this room."
"Let's get started."
INT. THEATER
"Just talked to the head of the convention. Headliner gig is yours," Vernon told Jay who turned around. "What? You don't want it?"
"A day ago, if you told me I'd be standing on this stage... No, I can't do it, Vernon," Jay said.
"What are you talking about?"
"Charlie's gone."
"Charlie would have wanted you to go on. This is your shot. It's our shot."
"Really? This is what Charlie would have wanted? Charlie's dead."
"Hey, he was my friend, too, you know."
"It's a hell of a way to treat a friend."
"Again, what are you talking about?"
"You killed him, didn't you? And for what? So that I -- So that we could be back on top?"
"That's insane." He chuckled. "No, you're scaring me."
"First it was Vance, then it was Jeb. Even if you thought you were doing it for me, how in God's name could you kill Charlie?"
"Oh, you are crazy."
"You used me, and you used my act to do this to him. If you think-"
"I wouldn't be so hard on him, Jay," a man said. "He didn't do it."
INT. VERNON'S HOTEL ROOM
"This is just a bunch of old-Timey magic stuff -- None of it magic," Dean stated, keeping tight hold of Kit's hand.
"No herbs, no candles, and no tarot cards," Sam commented.
"I'll be damned."
"What?"
Dean held up a poster and asked, "Look like anyone we know?" He knelt to his daughter's level. "You're gonna wait in the car, okay? I don't know what these guys will do and I need you safe."
Kit nodded. "Kick butts, take names, Daddy!"
Dean chuckled. "Uncle Sammy and I will, kiddo."
INT. THEATER
"Sweet Mary and Joseph," Vernon muttered.
"Charlie," Jay realized.
"It's really me, Jay," Charlie told him.
"How the hell..." Vernon trailed.
"God, you forget what it feels like to be young. It's amazing."
"How old are you?" Jay asked.
"Oh, it depends on what you mean by "old." Right now, technically, about 28, but I've been around a lot longer than that."
"How long?"
"Long enough to have shilled for Barnum. And he gave me something."
"What's that?"
"The grimoire -- A book of real magic. At first, I thought it was a scam, but then I tried one of the spells, and it worked. In fact, they all worked. So when I got to the end and there was one for immortality..."
"My God, Charlie," Vernon said.
"And my show, the things that I can do," Jay added.
"Different spell," Charlie told him. "But it gives you a little taste of what's possible." Charlie pulled out a deck of tarot cards. "Oh, no, I wouldn't touch those, Vernon. They're -- They're still radioactive."
"You killed Vance and Jeb Dexter."
"What, you think this is a parlor game? You were being humiliated by those punks. A washed-up old man who couldn't even defend himself."
"You used me to do these terrible things."
"I used them to give you a gift. And you wanted it, Jay. I saw it in your eyes."
"No, I never wanted this."
"You were ready to kill yourself. I saved your life."
Vernon glanced at his friend. "Is that right, Jay?"
"I was there for you, like I've always been. Like I'll always be. Come with me, both of you. You think the first time around was good? The second time's even better. All the know how, none of the aches and pain."
Jay shook his head. "No, I won't do this. I won't."
"I've never made this offer before. But, then again, I've never had friends like the two of you before. Let me do this for you."
"And who else has to die so that we can live forever? What's the price tag on immortality? This isn't right, Charlie, what you're doing. You know that. Somewhere, you know that."
"I know I don't want to come back alone, to start all over, alone."
"Jay... We can be young again," Vernon said.
"The three of us together -- Vital and alive... forever."
"Not so fast!" Dean yelled. "I ain't Guttenberg, and this ain't "Cocoon." Immortality. That's a neat trick."
"It's not a trick. It's magic." A noose appeared behind Dean, dropped around his neck and lifted him. Sam shot Charlie and Charlie caught the bullet in his teeth.
"Hey, bullet catch -- Been working on that," Charlie commented. "Also been working on the hot knife."
"Get him!" Dean cried.
"Let him go -- Now!" Sam ordered.
"Just leave me and my friends alone. All right, I will give it up -- The spells, the hexes. This is the last time. I promise," Charlie told them.
Charlie pushed Sam onto the sword-table. Charlie clutched his stomach, where he was suddenly bleeding. Jay had the Death tarot card in his pocket.
"Jay... You picked these strangers over me?" Charlie questioned.
"You okay?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right," Dean replied.
INT. BAR
"Hey, Jay," Dean greeted. "We wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday."
Jay looked at him. "I killed my best friend yesterday, and you want to thank me?"
"Where's Vernon?" Sam asked.
"Oh, he's gone. He said he didn't want to speak to me again after what I did to Charlie."
"Listen, Jay... you know Charlie was never gonna give up what he was doing. Ever. You did the right thing."
"Are you sure about that? You know, Charlie was like my brother. And now he's dead... because I did "the right thing." He offered me a gift, and I just threw it back in his face. So now I have to spend the rest of my life old and alone. What's so right about that?"
"Jay... your cards," the bartender said.
"Throw them away."
Dean glanced at his brother and daughter. "Well, I don't know about you all, but... I could go for a beer."
"I'm gonna take a walk," Sam told him.
Kit pulled her father's shirt. "Can I have chocolate milk?"
Dean nodded. "Sure, sweetheart."
EXT. ALLEY
Sam opened the door to Ruby's car. "Okay. I'm in."
"What changed your mind?" Ruby asked.
"I don't want to be doing this when I'm an old man."