INT. GARAGE – NIGHT
The lights flicked on and two men, Jim and Cal, entered.
"All right, buddy, what's so important you couldn't tell me over the phone?" Jim asked.
"Trust me, Jim. It's important," Cal replied as he led Jim over to a car covered in a sheet. He stopped, looking to Jim in excitement.
"Wait a minute, you're not... you're not telling me that this is—"
"Yep."
"You found it?"
Cal pulled the sheet off the car, revealing a silver convertible Porsche, labeled "Little Bastard". Jim sighed and chuckled in awe.
Jim shook his head. "You found it. Huh."
Cal folded up the sheet and tossed it aside as Jim inspected the car closer and said, "Oh my God! You sure?"
"VIN numbers match," Cal replied.
"How much you pay?"
"A lot."
"Come on, how much?"
Cal chuckled. "A lot."
"I bet. Wow." Jim whistled. Cal opened the door and got into the driver's seat.
"Wow. You start her up yet?" Jim wondered.
"Been waiting for you," Cal told him.
"Yeah, waiting to rub my nose in it, right?"
"Exactly." He put his hand on the ignition key.
"Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait. We need to record this for posterity's sake."
"Great idea."
"Yeah, great idea." Jim chuckled. "Oh, man."
Jim hurried off back into the house. Cal's face dropped when he breathed out and noticed his breath condense in front of him. Suddenly, the car's radio flicked on of its own volition and jumped rapidly through the stations. Cal tried to correct it with the knobs, but it didn't work. In the house, Jim found a video camera and adjusted the settings. He heard tires screeching in the garage, then glass breaking.
"Cal? Cal?" Jim called as he walked back into the garage, video camera held up, recording, but the car was blocked by some shelves. "Hey, you all right, man? I thought I heard something. Cal? Is something wrong?"
He walked around to the front of the car, still recording, then stopped dead and lowered the camera.
"Oh my God, Cal," Jim said.
The windshield, coated in Cal's blood, was embedded halfway through his skull.
Jim screamed and yelled, "Cal!"
Cal's blood ran down the hood and dripped onto the Porsche insignia and "Little Bastard" decal.
EXT. ROAD – NIGHT
The Impala drove along an empty road.
INT. IMPALA – NIGHT
"So—" Sam chuckled, "—what's with this job?"
"Dude suffers a head-on collision in a parked car?" Dean replied. "I'd say that's worth checking out."
"Yeah, definitely, uh, but, uh, we got bigger problems, don't you think?"
"I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back."
There was a pause before Sam said, "Right, yeah, but I mean, if—if the Colt is really out there somewhere—"
"Hey, we've been looking for three weeks, we got bupkis."
Cataleya frowned. "Okay. But Dean...I mean, if we're gonna—ice the Devil—"
"This is what we're doing! Okay? End of discussion."
"Hey, no. Don't you dare "end of discussion" me."
"Leya, stop. Please."
"Dean Winchester, I swear to God..."
"Stop it. I mean it."
Sam looked away and sighed while Cataleya glared at the elder Winchester. There was another long pause.
Dean continued. "It's just that this is our first real case, back at it together. You know, I, I think we oughta ease into it, put the training wheels back on."
"So you think I need training wheels," Sam retorted.
"No, 'we'. 'We' need training wheels, you, Leya and me. As a team. Okay?"
Sam nodded. "Okay."
"Man, I really want this to be a fresh start, you know? For the three of us."
They looked at each other, then Sam nodded again and repeated, "Okay."
EXT. ROAD – NIGHT
The Impala drove along.
EXT. SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT – DAY
CANTON, OHIO
INT. SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT – DAY
Dean and Sam, wearing suits, and Cataleya wearing a blouse and slacks, showed their FBI badges to the sheriff.
"Agents Bonham, Page and Copeland," Dean said.
The sheriff shook their hands before saying, "Rick Carnegie. Good to know ya. So you're here on account of Cal Hawkins' death?"
"That's right," Sam and Cataleya replied.
"Well, 'fraid you came a long way for nothing. We already booked the guy that did it."
Sam, Cataleya and Dean frowned at each other.
"I'm sorry; who do you think did it?" Sam asked.
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM – DAY
Sam, Dean, Cataleya and Carnegie were sitting at a table, watching the video that Jim recorded.
Jim, on the video, asked, "Cal? Is something wrong?"
The video showed Cal's head smashed into the windshield.
"Oh my God, Cal. Cal!"
The video cut to static and Carnegie shook his head, then switched off the TV. He dropped the remote on the table and turned to Dean, Cataleya and Sam.
"Sicko taped his own handiwork," Carnegie said.
Dean, Cataleya and Sam looked confused.
"I don't follow," Sam and Cataleya stated.
"It was Jim Grossman that killed Cal," Carnegie told them.
"Wait, what?" Dean questioned.
"Well, he was the only one on the scene for miles."
"They were best friends," Sam said.
"Most violent crimes are committed by someone close to the victim."
"And how exactly did Jim slam Cal into a windshield with all the force of an eighty-mile-per-hour crash?" Cataleya asked.
Carnegie blinked. "Drugs, maybe?"
Dean raised his eyebrows.
"Look, you know this ain't brain surgery, boys, miss! Whatever it looks like, that's what it usually is. It's simple."
"Simple," Dean repeated. "Right." He glanced over his shoulder at Sam and Cataleya.
"Right. Um, if you don't mind, we'd like to speak to Jim Grossman anyway," Sam said.
INT. JIM'S CELL – DAY
Sam and Cataleya were sitting at a table across from Jim, and Dean stood behind Sam and Kennedy.
"I was in the house when it happened, I didn't even see it," Jim said.
"For argument's sake, say we believe you," Dean told him.
"Why would you? The cops didn't."
Cataleya smirked lightly, a hint of deviousness in her eyes. "Well we're not your typical cops."
"Please, just tell us what you saw," Sam said.
"It's not what I saw, it's what I heard," Jim replied. "Tires squealing, glass breaking." He sighed. "It was the car that did it."
Dean, Cataleya and Sam each raised their eyebrows.
"The car?" Sam repeated.
"I mean, I heard about the curse, but, I just thought it was a load of crap."
"Curse, what do you—what do you mean, curse?" Cataleya inquired.
"The car. Little Bastard."
"Li—Little Bastard?" Dean repeated. "As in the Little Bastard?"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, uh, what's Little Bastard?" Sam wondered.
Cataleya glanced a the younger Winchester. "It's James Dean's car. It's the one he was killed in."
"Yeah, that's the one," Jim confirmed. "Cal had been looking for it for years. I mean, hell, we both had. But he found it first."
Dean leaned closer to Sam and Cataleya before saying, "Oh, we are definitely checking this out."
Cataleya let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes.
INT. GARAGE – DAY
Dean walked around and inspects Little Bastard with awe, careful not to touch. The windshield was bloodstained and had a piece missing where Cal's head was.
"So, what, this is, like, Christine?" Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. "Christine is fiction. This—This is real."
"Okay. Enlighten me."
Cataleya folded her hands together. "Well after James Dean died, his mechanic—bought the wreckage, and he fixed it up."
Dean said, "And it repaid him by... Falling on him. And Tony McHenry was killed when it locked up on the racetrack. I mean, death follows this car around like exhaust. Nobody touches it and comes away in one piece."
"Hm," Sam hummed.
"Then, in nineteen-seventy, it vanished off the back of a truck," Cataleya informed. "Nobody's ever seen it since."
"I'm telling you, man, if this—if this car is Little Bastard, I will bet you dollars to donuts it's what killed the guy," Dean said.
"So how do we find out?" Sam asked.
"Cal matched the VIN number, but the only real way to know is the engine number."
Sam nodded. "I'm guessing the engine number—?"
"On the engine. Yeah."
INT. GARAGE – DAY
Dean, Cataleya and Sam had their jackets off and sleeves rolled up and were staring at Little Bastard with trepidation.
"You want me or Catty to do it?" Sam asked.
"No. ...No, no, I've—I've got it," Dean said before he addressed Little Bastard. "Okay, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you, so... don't hurt me."
Dean laid down on a roller board with a pencil in his mouth, then rolled himself under the car so his eyes were level with a number printed on the engine. He read the number when the car shuddered and Dean panicked, looking around. Cataleya sucked in a nervous breath. Sam appeared on the ground next to the car.
"Need a flashlight?" Sam questioned.
Dean startled and said, "No. Don't... do anything, just go away. Go stand by Leya."
"You—uh, okay."
"Don't speak. All right? In fact, don't even look at her, she might not like it. The car, not Leya."
Sam stood back up. Dean held a piece of paper up to the engine's number. The car shuddered again and Dean hesitated, then cautiously took a rubbing of the number on the piece of paper with the pencil. He slid out from under the car, exhaling deeply, then stood up quickly. Dean composed himself, then handed Sam the number.
"Find out who owned it. Not just the last owner, you gotta take it all the way back to nineteen-fifty-five."
"That's a lot of research."
"Well, I guess I just made your afternoon. Leya's gonna help."
Cataleya frowned. "Dean-"
"Please?"
Sam and Cataleya stared. Dean sighed and walked away.
Cataleya mumbled, "Words swim, Winchester."
EXT. GREEN DRAGON TAVERN – DAY
INT. BAR – DAY
Dean sat at the bar, talking to a bartender.
"So, you wanna be an actress, huh?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," the bartender replied.
"That is—that is so funny, because, I am actually—" Dean took out a business card, "—an agent for William Morris Endeavor."
She took the card. "Wow."
Dean chuckled as his cell phone rang. He indicated his empty beer glass. "You mind filling me up again?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks, hey, you're a star. All right?"
She giggled, took the glass, and walked away as Dean answered the call.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY / INT. BAR – DAY
"Yo," Dean greeted.
"Hey," Sam said. "Took me and Catty a while, but we traced all the car's previous owners."
Sam and Cataleya were sitting at their laptops, piles of paper spread around.
"Any of 'em die bloody?" Dean questioned.
"Nope. In fact—" Sam stopped.
Someone near Dean broke a triangle of pool balls. Sam and Cataleya heard the noise.
"Dean, are you in a bar?" Sam and Cataleya asked.
"No, I—I'm—I'm in a restaurant," Dean replied.
The bartender returned and placed Dean's beer on the bar. "Here's your beer." She grinned.
"Thanks." He took the beer as the bartender walked away and Sam and Cataleya shook their heads. "That happens to have a bar."
"Sam and I've been working our asses off here," Cataleya snapped.
"Hey, world's smallest violin, pal, sweetheart, I spent the afternoon up Christine's skirt. I needed a drink."
"Actually, you didn't."
"Meaning?"
"The car's first owner was a cardiologist in Philadelphia; drove it 'til he died in nineteen-seventy-two," Sam informed.
"So you're saying?"
"That Porsche is not, nor has it ever been, James Dean's car," Cataleya said. "It's a fake Little Bastard."
"Well then what was it that killed the guy?"
"Good question," Sam and Cataleya replied.
EXT. HOUSE – NIGHT
INT. OFFICE – NIGHT
A man, Mr. Hill, sat at his desk, doing some paperwork. A maid, Consuela, came to the door.
"Okay Mister Hill, I finish," Consuela said.
"Thank you, Consuela," Mr. Hill replied. "Have a good night."
Consuela smiled, nodded, and left. Hill returned to his paperwork and sighed, but was surprised when his breath condensed in front of him. He heard a creak behind him, turned, and stopped.
"Oh my God. It's you," Hill said as he stood. "You're dead. You're supposed to be dead."
Abraham Lincoln snarled, teeth bared, and stepped from the shadows, advancing on Hill, who backed away.
"No. No, no, no."
Lincoln suddenly appeared right in front of Hill and picked him up by the throat. Lincoln began to strangle Hill. A large splatter of blood hit a framed copy of the Emancipation Proclamation hanging on the wall.
INT. OFFICE – DAY
A police forensic squad was investigating and photographing the scene. Carnegie was giving orders as Dean, Cataleya and Sam entered.
"I want you to use a, a fine-tooth comb," Carnegie said. "The evidence is here, we just gotta find it."
"Heard you got another weird one," Dean stated.
"Uh, well, it's a—it's a little strange on the surface, I admit, but, uh... you know, once you—you look at the facts..."
"William Hill died from a gunshot wound to the head," Sam noted. "No gun, no gunpowder, no bullet."
Dean shrugged. "Nope. Nothing strange about that."
"Well there's gotta be a reasonable explanation," Carnegie replied. "There always is."
"Well what's your reasonable explanation?"
Carnegie looked around cautiously for a moment and whispered, "Professional killer."
"Come again?" Sam and Cataleya questioned.
"Well, CIA, NSA, one o' them trained assassins, like in Michael Clayton."
Sam, Cataleya and Dean all but gaped at Carnegie.
"Right," Dean stated, looking at Sam and Cataleya.
"You're welcome to look around, but—but these guys don't leave fingerprints," Carnegie told them.
"Mind if we talk with the witness?" Sam asked.
"Be my guest. She's not making any sense! And she's not making any sense in Spanish either."
Dean and Cataleya nodded slowly. "Right."
EXT. HOUSE — DAY
Consuela was sitting on a wooden bench, wrapped in a blanket, talking to a police officer and sobbing. Dean, Cataleya and Sam came outside and walked over to her.
"No puedo vivir aquí," Consuela said. "Necesito mi familia. Me voy ahora. Me voy a la casa. No—me voy a la casa en El Salvador ahora."
"Consuela Alvarez?" Dean called.
"Yes?"
"FBI."
Dean, Cataleya and Sam each showed their badges. The police officer left.
"Now, uh, you said you saw something in the professor's house," Dean remembered. "Right? Something in the window?"
"Estaba sacando la basura," Consuela told them. "Imiré por la ventana y vi al hombre que mató al Señor Hill!"
Sam and Cataleya knelt in front of her and Sam said, "Uh, Señora Alvarez. Cálmese, por favor. Uh—"
Sam and Cataleya looked at Dean, thinking before they asked, "Uh, díganos lo que vio?"
Dean grinned. "Nice."
"Freshman Spanish," Sam replied with a shrug.
Cataleya smirked. "Bilingual, remember?"
Consuela contined. "Era alto. Muy alto. Y llevaba el abrigo negro largo y tenía bigotes."
Sam and Cataleya glanced between Dean and Consuela as they translated. "Okay, uh, a tall man, very tall. With a long black coat and a—"
Sam gestured at his chin. "A beard?" Consuela nodded. "Beard."
"Y un sombrero," Consuelo added.
"Dude was wearing a sombrero?" Dean asked.
"Uh, a hat, not a—a—" Cataleya trailed, gesturing near her head.
"No, no, no, un sombrero alto," Consuelo corrected.
"A tall hat?" Sam and Cataleya translated.
"Oh, like a top hat," Dean said.
"Un sombrero alto," Consuelo confirmed, gesturing above her head. "Muy alto!"
"What, you mean like a—like a stovepipe hat." Dean imitated her gesture.
"Sí."
"Oh yeah, like Abraham Lincoln."
Sam shrugged and Cataleya frowned. Consuela started sobbing again before she said, "Sí. El Presidente Lincoln."
Sam, Cataleya and Dean traded confused looks.
"Abraham Lincoln kill Mister Hill!" Consuela exclaimed, crying again.
"Huh," Dean noted.
"S-so I go home now?"
"Uh, sí," Sam and Cataleya replied. "Gracias."
"Gracias," Dean repeated.
Sam and Cataleya turned and frowned at Dean as Consuela walked away.
EXT. THE NITE OWL MOTEL – DAY
INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY
Sam, Cataleya and Dean sat at the table, Sam and Cataleya on their laptops and Dean on a new laptop. Sam brought up a webpage. Dean was re-watching the video of Cal's death. He noticed something and frowned, then paused the video and backed up a few frames until a figure in a red jacket appears reflected in the chrome of a car wheel.
"Whoa," Dean commented.
"What?" Sam and Cataleya asked.
Dean went back and forth between adjacent frames; the figure was present in one but not the other. He picked up the laptop and turned it around so Sam and Cataleya could see.
"It's a freeze-frame from Jim Grossman's video," Dean said as Sam and Cataleya looked at it. "Am I crazy, or does that look like James Dean?"
"That looks like James Dean," Sam and Cataleya noted.
Dean set the laptop back in front of himself. "So we got Abraham Lincoln, and James Dean?" Sam and Cataleya frowned. "Famous ghosts?"
"Maybe."
"Well that's just silly."
"No, actually, uh, there is a ton of lore on famous ghosts," Sam said. "More than the, you know, not-famous kinds. I'm actually surprised we haven't run into one before."
"Yeah, but now we got two of 'em? Two extremely pissed-off ghosts?"
"Who are apparently ganking their fans," Cataleya stated.
"What do you mean?"
Cataleya slowly read off the webpage. "Professor Hill was a Civil War nut. He dug Lincoln."
"And Cal must've been a James Dean freak. He spent seventeen years of his life tracking down the guy's car."
Sam and Cataleya raised their eyebrows knowingly.
"So you're saying we've got two super-famous, super-pissed-off ghosts killing their... super-fans?"
Sam shrugged. "That's what it looks like."
"Well, that is muchos loco."
Sam grinned and Cataleya smirked. "'Muy'." Dean looked up. "Not 'muchos'."
"Yeah, well, the big question is, what the hell are they doing here?"
"Yeah," Cataleya agreed. "Ghosts usually haunt the places they live. I mean, I, I get Abraham Lincoln at the White House—"
"And James Dean at a race track, but... what the hell are they doing in Canton?"
MOTEL ROOM – DAY
Sam and Cataleya were still working on their laptops while Dean stood by the sink, drinking a can of soda.
Sam stopped typing and frowned. "You gotta be kidding me."
"What?" Dean and Cataleya asked as the former walked over and read the screen, the latter slowly. "You gotta be kidding me."
INT. CANTON WAX MUSEUM – DAY
Sam, Cataleya and Dean walked through the wax museum, checking out the figures. Sam walked past John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon, then stopped at Abraham Lincoln. Dean frowned at Gandhi.
"Dude, he's short," Dean commented.
"Hey. Gandhi was a great man," Sam said.
"Yeah, for a Smurf."
Cataleya rolled her eyes. "Come on, boys. We got a job to do."
The museum owner came down the stairs at a half-jog, slightly out of breath. He was wearing a leather jacket.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, this is our busiest time of the year," the owner said.
Dean and Cataleya looked around at the empty rooms before saying, "This is busy?"
"Well, not right now, but it's early."
"It's four-thirty."
"So, what can I do for you?"
"Uh, well, we are writing a piece for Travel Magazine," Sam explained.
"Yeah, on how, uh, totally non-sucky wax museums are," Dean added as Cataleya nodded.
"That's fantastic," the owner said. "A little press, just what we need."
"Great. Well we're interested in a few of your exhibits, specifically Abraham Lincoln and, uh, James Dean," Sam told the owner.
"Two of our most popular displays."
"Oh yeah? So they bring in a lot of visitors?"
"Yeah, we have our regulars."
"I don't suppose that, uh, William Hill and Cal Hawkins were regulars, were they?" Cataleya questioned.
The owner nodded. "As a matter of fact, they were. Yeah, I heard what happened to them. It's tragic, just tragic. Oh—you—that's not gonna be in the article, is it?"
"No. No, no. 'Course not."
"You know, I gotta tell you, that—that Lincoln is so lifelike, I mean, you—I mean, you can just imagine him moving around," Dean said. "You ever see anything like that?"
The owner frowned. "Uh... no."
"No?"
"Well, um, is there anything you could think of that would make your museum... unusual?" Sam asked. "You know, for the article?"
"Well, I'll say," the owner replied. "There isn't another place like us, not anywhere."
"How so?" Dean questioned.
"Well, for one, that's Honest Abe's real hat." The owner pointed to Lincoln.
"It is?" Sam asked.
Cataleya studied the hat and nodded. "Yes, it is."
"Almost like his remains," Dean commented.
Dean looked pointedly at Sam and Cataleya.
The owner frowned and said, "Uh... I guess?"
Dean grinned.
"You wouldn't happen to have any of James Dean's personal effects, would you?" Sam inquired.
"Ooh, yeah," the owner replied. "Got his keychain. We got a bunch of stuff, uh, Gandhi's bifocals, FDR's iron lung. This." He indicated the leather jacket he was wearing.
Sam frowned. "And who did that belong to?"
"The Fonz. Seasons two through four!" The owner did a double thumbs-up, grinning.
"W-wow. Yeah, that's—that's really cool... ish."
"This? This is nothing. I've been working on a new collection of figures. Stuff that'll really wow the kids."
"The kids?" Dean and Cataleya repeated.
"Yeah, Gen Y." Dean and Cataleya nodded. "Computer games, cell phones, sexting."
Dean raised his eyebrows and Cataleya rolled her eyes. The owner scoffed. "They're just fads. I'm gonna make wax museums hip again."
The owner grinned and gave his double thumbs-up again. Dean chuckled and Sam and Cataleya returned the thumbs-up.
EXT. THE NITE OWL MOTEL – NIGHT
Sam and Cataleya opened the trunk of the Impala, took out two shotguns and loaded them with shells of rock salt, then put the loaded shotguns back in and closed the lid. They went back into their room.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
Dean was talking on his cell phone, facing away from the door. "Yeah, Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe that? ...Why so kill-crazy? Ah, maybe the apocalypse has got 'em all hot and bothered. Yeah, well, we all know whose fault that is. ...Well I'm sorry, but it's true."
Sam frowned, then pushed the door shut, causing Dean to spin around. Cataleya shot Dean a dirty look.
"I'll call you later," Dean said. "Bye." He hung up and turned to Sam and Cataleya.
"What's going on?" Sam and Cataleya asked.
"Did you two get the trunk packed up?"
"Yeah, trunk's packed," Sam replied. "Who was on the phone?"
"Bobby."
"And?"
Dean shook his head. "Nothing."
"So we're just gonna pretend Kennedy and I didn't hear what we just heard?"
Dean shrugged. "Pretend or don't pretend. Whatever floats your boat."
"This was supposed to be a fresh start, Dean."
Dean picked up his jacket. "Well, this is about as fresh as it gets. Now are we going or not?"
Dean walked to the door, opened it, and left. Sam and Cataleya watched him go, sighed, exchanged an annoyed look, and followed him.
INT. WAX MUSEUM – NIGHT
Sam, Cataleya and Dean walked through the museum, past Gandhi. Dean and Cataleya approached Lincoln and Dean took off his hat as Sam fetched a metal trash can. Sam turned around to find Dean wearing Lincoln's hat and Cataleya frowning at him.
"Check it out," Dean said as he lowered his voice, imitating Lincoln. "Four score and seven years ago, I had a funny hat."
"Dean," Sam and Cataleya called.
Sam and Cataleya sighed and Sam put the trash can down, holding their hands out for the hat.
"We can't have any fun with this?" Dean asked as he took the hat off and tossed it into the trash can.
"Let's just torch the objects, torch the ghosts, get outta here," Sam said. "Okay?"
"I'll go grab East of Eden's keychain."
Dean walks into the next room. Sam and Cataleya scanned the room. They looked at Lincoln, then narrowed their eyes and leaned in closer. The double doors Dean went through slammed shut. Sam and Cataleya spun around.
"Dean?" Sam and Cataleya called as they went over to the doors, shotguns in hand. "Dean?"
Sam and Cataleya tried the door handles but the doors wouldn't budge. They noticed their breath condensing in front of them and spun around, shotguns held at the ready. They looked from Lincoln to Gandhi and back again as they crept forward slowly. Sam and Cataleya heard a creak to their left and they turned. Sam quickly pushed Cataleya out of the way. The shotgun flew out of his hands. Defenseless, Sam stood still for a second and Gandhi leapt onto his back.
Gandhi wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, but Sam slammed him into the wall and Gandhi fell off. He got up and they circled around each other, then Gandhi scrambled under Sam's legs and jumped on his back again. Sam threw himself backwards and crashed through a table, and Gandhi let go momentarily but jumped on Sam's back a third time and began to strangle him just as Dean burst through the double doors. Cataleya tried to pull Gandhi off of Sam, but she was thrown back and her head hit the wall; hard.
"Dean!" Sam called.
"Is that Gandhi?" Dean asked.
"Yeah!"
"Dude, he's squirrelly."
"Get the—"
Gandhi elbowed Sam in the chest, winding him. Sam indicated Gandhi's wax figure with a shake of his head and Dean ran over to it.
"Do it!"
"Get the what?"
"Glasses!"
Sam began to gasp and choke, running out of oxygen. Cataleya once again, despite her throbbing head, tried to pull Gandhi off of Sam. Dean grabbed the glasses off the Gandhi wax figure and ran over to the trash can. He threw them in, squirted lighter fluid on them and finally lit them on fire with a match. Gandhi disappeared, and Sam gasped for air.
"You couldn't have been a fan of someone cool?" Dean asked as Sam stared. "Really? Gandhi? You good, Leya?"
She nodded. "I think."
EXT. NITE OWL MOTEL – DAY
INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY
Dean grabbed his shirts out of a drawer and shoved them in his bag. "Ready to blow this joint?"
Sam came out of the bathroom, zipping up his toiletries bag. "Dean, didn't it strike you as strange the way Gandhi just... vanished?"
"Strange how?"
Cataleya glanced at Sam before saying, "He's right. No screaming, no big flame-out, I mean, that isn't the way ghosts usually go."
"Still, I torched, he vanished."
"Yeah, but I—" Sam sighed. "Also, I feel like he was... trying to take a bite out of me."
"A bite?"
"Yeah, like he was hungry. But the thing is, Gandhi—or, the real Gandhi—he was a—"
"A what?" Sam hesitated. "Spit it out."
"He was a fruitarian."
Dean stared at Sam, then laughed. "Let me get this straight. Your, uh, ultimate hero was not only a short man in diapers, but he was also a fruitarian?"
"That's not the point."
"That is good. That is—even for you, that is good."
Cataleya huffed and rolled her eyes. "Look, we're just saying, we're not so sure this thing is over."
Dean spread his arms. "It was a ghost. It was a weirdly super-charged fruitarian ghost, but it was still a ghost. Now let's go." He picked up his bag.
"So first you drag us into town, and now you're dragging us back out," Sam said.
"You two ain't steering this boat. Let's go, chop chop." He walked towards the door.
"You know, this isn't gonna work."
Dean stopped and turned. "What isn't?"
"Us. You, me, Catty, together, I—I thought it could, but it can't."
"You're the one that wanted back in, chief."
"And you're the one who called me back in. And now you're ordering Catty, and we both know how she feels about that."
"I still think we got some trust building to do."
"How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?"
Dean shrugged. "Till I say so."
"Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier."
"So what am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?"
"No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team, you, Catty and I—it has to be a two-way street."
"So we just go back to the way we were before?"
"No, because we were never that way before. Before didn't work." Dean frowned.
Cataleya crossed her arms. "How do you think we got here?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Cataleya rolled her eyes and gestured to Sam who said, "Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby... was to get away from you."
"What?"
"It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother."
"Are you saying this is my fault?"
"No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different, we can't just fall into the same rut."
Dean shook his head. "What do you want me to do?"
"You're gonna have to let me grow up, for starters."
"And you're gonna have to stop bossing me around," Cataleya added. "It won't end well for you if you keep it up."
Dean's cell phone rang. He stared at Sam and Cataleya, then put his bag down and answered it.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, looking to Sam and Cataleya, then away again. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." He hung up. "I guess you two were right about this not being over."
INT. SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT – DAY
Sam and Dean, back in suits, and Cataleya back in a blouse and slacks, walked in and headed straight towards Carnegie, who was sitting at a desk.
"Sheriff Carnegie?" Sam and Cataleya called.
"Sheriff, what happened?" Dean asked.
"I, uh, uh..." Carnegie stopped. He shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know!" He indicated the interview room where two young women were sitting at the table, crying. Dean, Cataleya and Sam walked in.
"Excuse us, girls," Dean said. "Hi, we're with the FBI."
"Can you tell us what happened?" Sam asked.
"It was horrible!" girl one cried.
"Way horrible," girl two ordered.
"What was horrible?" Cataleya questioned.
"I thought she'd be nice!" girl one said.
Girl two looked at girl one before saying, "I still can't believe it."
"Believe what?" Dean wondered.
"She took Danielle!"
"Who?"
The girls looked at each other.
"It's okay, you're safe, just, tell us," Sam told them. "Who took your friend?"
"It was... Paris Hilton," girl two said.
Dean, Cataleya and Sam stared.
"Sorry?" Sam and Cataleya stated in a confused tone.
"She looked really good, though," girl two stated.
"Skinny!" girl one added.
"Skinny and fast."
"Mm."
"What—wait—huh?" Dean inquired.
"Uh, um...where did they go?" Sam questioned.
Girl one shook her head. "We don't know."
"They just vanished," girl two said.
"Would you excuse us for just a minute?" Cataleya asked.
She, Dean and Sam walked back to the doorway and speak just above a whisper.
"Paris Hilton's not dead as far as we know, right?" Dean said.
"Pretty sure, no," Sam and Cataleya replied.
"Which means it's not a—"
"Ghost. No."
"So, what? Paris Hilton is a homicidal maniac—"
"Or we missed something."
"What do you two wanna do?"
INT. MORGUE – DAY
Sam, now in blue scrubs, was looking through Cal's file. He read through the notes and frowns when he found something. He pulled out Cal's body from the freezer and used a scalpel to cut open Cal's chest, then pushed his gloved hand inside. There was a squelch and Sam closed his eyes and breathed out.
"That's right," Sam said.
Sam frowned and pulled his hand out, fingers covered in blood. He held up two small round things.
"What the hell?" Sam wondered.
EXT. CORONER'S OFFICE – DAY
Sam, back in his suit, came out of the building to meet up with Dean and Cataleya.
Sam shook his head and sighed. "I can't believe Catty and I missed it."
Dean and Cataleya stood and walked with Sam back to the Impala before they asked, "Missed what?"
"Went back over the other two vics. There was blood loss. Major."
"Oh, well, being a gory smear will do that to you," Dean said.
"No, I—I mean more blood loss than a—a car crash or a head wound should cause, almost like it—"
"Something's feeding," Dean and Cataleya finished.
"Yeah."
"Awesome."
"And then—"
Sam took out a plastic bag. "There were these."
Dean and Cataleya looked at the bag; it contained the two things Sam found.
Dean picked up the corner to inspect them closer. "What are those, seeds?"
"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "They were in both vics' bellies."
Dean took his hand off the bag quickly. "I hope you washed your hands."
"They're unlike any seed I've ever seen before, Dean, Catty."
"Wow, just when I thought you couldn't get any geekier." Dean patted Sam on the shoulder and got into the Impala.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY
Sam and Cataleya were on their laptops again, the seeds out of their bag and sitting on the table between them. Dean was sitting on the bed using his laptop.
Sam grinned. "Yahtzee."
"What?" Dean asked.
"The seeds aren't from around here. In fact, they're not from any tree or plant in the country."
"Where are they from?"
"Eastern Europe," Cataleya answered. "From a forest in the Balkans, which is not even there anymore. It was chopped down, like, thirty years ago."
"So?"
"So, local legend has it that the forest was guarded by a pagan god whose name was Leshi. Um, a mischievous god, could take on infinite forms—"
"And let me guess. He liked to munch on his fans."
Sam chuckled. "Yep. Could be appeased only with the blood from his worshippers. It would drain 'em, then stuff their stomachs with the seeds."
Dean got up and joined Sam and Cataleya. "So how's he doing it? What, he touches James Dean's keychain and then morphs into James Dean?"
"Hm. It's as good a guess as any."
"Yeah, well, whatever. How do we kill him?"
"Says here to chop off his head with an iron axe," Kennedy replied.
Dean nodded. "All right. Let's go gank ourselves a Paris Hilton."
Cataleya stared at him. "That's got to be the weirdest thing you've ever said, and you've said some weird things."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Don't whatever me."
INT. WAX MUSEUM – NIGHT
Sam, Cataleya and Dean entered, Dean carrying an axe, Sam and Kennedy a flashlight, and walked past the now hatless Abraham Lincoln wax model. They split up, Cataleya with Sam, and searched separate rooms. Sam and Cataleya came across a door with signs on it reading "Sorry for the inconvenience, CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS" and "DANGER DO NOT ENTER". They whistled and Dean met up with them.
They broke the latch and open the door, pushing through a plastic sheet to find a room decorated like a clearing in the woods, with a path leading up the middle to a white house with a wax figure of a man in a suit standing on the front porch. Sam and Cataleya noticed a young woman, who had to be Danielle, standing next to a tree and tied by her wrists to it.
"Hey," Sam and Cataleya said as they ran over and checked her pulse.
"She alive?" Dean asked.
"Yeah. Barely."
The axe flew out of Dean's hand and embedded itself in a tree on the other side of the path. Dean spun around to find Paris Hilton; Leshii. She grinned and punched Dean multiple times in the face, sending him to the ground. She flipped her hair as Sam and Cataleya lunged at her, but she shoved them and sent them flying across the room. They collided with the front wall of the house and fell to the ground, unconscious. Dean shook his head and looked up to see Leshii standing over him.
"Awesome," Leshii said as she raised her stiletto-clad foot and stomped on Dean's face.
INT. WOODS ROOM – NIGHT
Leshii sat on a tree stump near the house with another tree stump serving as a table next to her. Laid on it were various knives; she picked one up and began filing her nails, causing small sparks. Dean, Cataleya and Sam were tied to two trees side-by-side, in the same fashion as Danielle. They woke, one after the other, and struggled for a second before they realized where they were.
"Oh. I'm so glad you're awake for this," Leshii said. "This is gonna be huge."
Sam, Cataleya and Dean looked at each other.
"Super. Yeah, I wouldn't wanna miss it," Dean retorted as he pulled at his ropes discreetly.
"I mean, I've been stuffing myself with fast food lately. So it's nice to do the ritual right. Prepare a nice, slow meal for a change."
"Just like the good old days, huh?" Sam and Kennedy said.
"You have no idea. People adored me. They used to throw themselves at me, with smiles on their faces."
"Yeah, I guess these days nobody gives a flying crap about some backwoods forest god, huh?" Dean asked.
Leshii stoped filing her nails with a threatening glare. "No. Not since they cut down my forest and built a Yugo plant."
"March of progress, sister."
Leshii filed her nails a few more times. "For years now, I've been wandering. Hungry. Scared. Scrounging for scraps. So not sexy." Dean made a face. "But then, the best thing ever happened." She put the knife down. "Someone tripped the apocalypse. And I thought, what the hell, I'm tired of watching what I eat. I wanna pig out. So I found this little place. It's awesome. Adoring fans stroll right in the door."
"Yeah. But they're not your fans," Sam told her.
"So? They worship Lincoln, Gandhi, Hilton... whatever. I'll take what I can get."
"You know, I gotta tell you, you are not the first god we've met, but you are... the nuttiest," Dean said.
"No, you, you people, you're the crazy ones. You used to worship gods. But this?"
Leshii indicated her Paris Hilton disguise. "This is what passes for idolatry? Celebrities? What have they got besides small dogs and spray tans?"
Sam frowned. Dean raised his eyebrows, nodding. Cataleya rolled her eyes.
Leshii continued. "You people used to have old-time religion. Now you have Us Weekly."
"I don't know, I'm more of a Penthouse Forum man myself," Dean replied as he winked and clicked his tongue at Leshii.
She got up and stalked over to him. "Maybe, but... there's still a lot of yummy meat on those bones, boy."
"Well I hate to break it to you, sister, but, uh...you can't eat me. See, I'm not a Paris Hilton BFF. I've never even seen House of Wax."
Sam and Cataleya looked at Dean and frowned.
"No. But I can totally read your mind, Dean. I know who your hero is. Your daddy. Am I right?"
Dean didn't reply. She smirked and walked over to the tree with the axe embedded in it. When her back was turned, Dean pulled at his ropes again.
Leshii continued. "And this belonged to him. Didn't it? Poor little Dean. All you ever wanted was to be loved by your idol. One distant father figure, coming right up."
She went to touch the axe when Dean finally pulled his wrist free of the ropes. He sprinted across the clearing and tackled Leshii to the floor. Sam and Cataleya pulled desperately at their ropes as Leshii managed to kneel on top of Dean and punched him repeatedly in the face. Sam and Cataleya finally pulled free and dashed over the clearing. Dean got a punch in and threw Leshii off him as Sam pulled the axe from the tree. Dean rolled out of the way, pulling Cataleya back with him, and Sam brought the axe down five times on Leshii's neck. Her head rolled free of her body and Sam panted in exertion, his face covered in blood. Dean, still on the floor next to Cataleya, looked up when Sam turned to him and grinned, and Dean held up a finger.
"Not a word," Dean said.
"Dude. You just got whaled on by Paris Hilton!" Sam teased.
"Shut up." He laid back and grunted in pain, holding his head. "Leya, don't you dare."
Cataleya smirked and said, "I never thought I'd see the day when Dean Winchester got beat up by Paris Hilton. But damn was it worth it."
Dean let out a groan and shot her a look.
EXT. THE NITE OWL MOTEL – DAY
Dean, Cataleya and Sam, carrying their bags, were walking to the Impala.
Dean was talking on his cell phone. "Uh-huh. All right. Thank you." He hung up. "Sheriff Carnegie. Danielle's gonna be all right. She's sworn off The Simple Life, but other than that—"
"Glad she's okay," Sam and Cataleya said.
"It gets better. Sheriff's putting out an APB on Paris Hilton." He chuckled. "That oughta be good."
Dean took out his keys and opened the trunk of the Impala. They put their bags inside.
After a moment, Dean said, "Hey, listen, I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About me keeping too tight of a leash on you. And ordering Leya around." Sam and Cataleya looked at him. "Hell, maybe you're right. I mean, look, I'm not exactly Mister Innocent in this whole mess either, you know. I did break the first seal."
"You didn't know," Sam reasoned.
"Yeah, well, neither did you." Sam looked down and a tiny smile crossed Cataleya's face. "I'm not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but, you did kill Lilith."
"And start the apocalypse."
"Which neither of us saw coming, I mean, who'd have thought killing Lilith would've been a bad thing?" He paused. "Point is, I was so worried about watching your every move and ordering her around that I didn't see what it was actually doing to you two." He paused again. "So, for that I'm sorry."
"Thanks," Sam and Cataleya replied.
Dean closed the trunk and took the keys. "So where do we go from here?"
Sam looked at him. "The way I see it, we got one shot at surviving this."
"What's that?"
"Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same with you and Michael, maybe there's no changing that."
"Well that's encouraging."
Cataleya looked between the boys. "But, we can stop wringing our hands over it. We gotta just grab onto whatever's in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting."
Dean considered her words, then nodded. "I can get on board with that."
Sam nodded. "Okay. But we're gonna have to do it on the same level."
Dean grinned slightly. "You two got it." Sam and Cataleya nodded. "I say we get the hell outta here."
"Hell yeah," Sam and Cataleya agreed.
They turned to go to their respective sides of the car, but Dean stopped and looked down at the keys.
"Hey," Dean called, causing Sam to turn, then Cataleya, and Dean held out the keys. "You wanna drive?"
Sam looked down at the keys. "You sure?"
"Yeah, I could, uh... I could use a nap. Leya also looks like she's about to fall asleep."
Sam smiled a little and Dean handed him the keys. They got into the car and drove away.