( OUT WITH THE OLD )
DANCE STUDIO
[ ☾]
Dancers are preparing to leave after practice, putting their ballet shoes into bags and putting on scarves and jackets. "No Irina again. Guess she's too famous for us." Dancer 1 says.
"No, she just... 'vants to be alone'." Dancer 2 says. The dancers giggle. The door opens and another dancer enters.
"Irina. A little late for practice, no?"
"Never too late. Practice makes perfect... if you have the talent." Irons says as the other dancers leave.
Irina takes off her street clothes, under which she's wearing a leotard, and puts on her ballet shoes. She stretches, does some exercises at the barre, turns on music and begins to dance. Tchaikovsky's "Swan's Theme" plays
Suddenly she begins to spin faster, then loses her balance and grabs the barre. She is still en pointe and is breathing heavily. She screams as she is flung backwards and begins to spin again. In the hallway, a janitor is mopping the floor. Irina spins faster and faster. She screams as blood splatters the walls.
The janitor comes in to investigate and finds Irina dead with bloody stumps instead of feet. The janitor crosses himself. Irina's ballet shoes are arranged on the floor in pristine condition.
SUPERNATURAL
WALKWAY ALONG RIVER
[ ☼ ]
Dean is on the phone to Frank. The scene alternates between Dean standing on the walkway and Frank in his trailer. "So, Dick's funding an archaeological dig? Well, unless Dick's actually digging himself, I'm not sure I know what to do with that, Frank. Or the factory in Saudi Arabia, or the fishery in Jakarta. None of this is helping, Frank." Dean says.
"Explain how Western to Southeast Asia is too wide a net. You know, I could be in Tromso right now. Zero Leviathan activity in Tromso." Frank says.
"Where the hell is Tromso?" Asks Dean.
"Norway, you moron. By the way, they opened another Biggerson in Butte." Frank says.
"Yeah, well, we're not in Montana."
"Oh, you know where Butte is. That's encouraging. So, where are you?" Asks Frank.
"We're in Oregon." Dean says.
"No. I got nothing in Oregon."
"Wisconsin, Frank." Says Dean.
"What about it?" Frank asks.
"The coordinates – Bobby's coordinates."
"Bobby... Oh! Right. Yeah, no. I got nothing. I got no activity." Says Frank.
"Well, work on it."
"Hey. When did you become the boss of me? You don't like what I'm doing, you can stick it right up your Montana." Frank says.
"All right, all right, all right. Take it easy, Frank." Dean says.
"Oh, and another thing—" Frank hangs up.
"Frank? Hello? Fr—" Dean starts and Sam and Elena walk up, Sam carrying a coffee and a newspaper. "He's a crazy son of a bitch."
"Frank?" Asks Sam.
"You know, having a cranky total paranoid as your go-to guy – that's – it's... I don't know what it is." Dean says. "What, are you going for, like, the Guinness record of caffeine consumption? That's like your fifth this morning."
"Yeah, well, every time I close my eyes, Lucifer is yelling into my head. It's like I let him in once, now I can't get rid of him." Sam says.
"You know he's not actually..." Elena starts.
"Yeah. Yeah, no. I know. Uh, try telling that to the volume control inside my brain."
"Well, did you try the hand thing?" Asks Dean.
"Yeah." Sam says. "Anyway, long as I'm awake, check it out." He hands Dean the newspaper. "They're saying drugs, but read between the lines. Sounds like she danced her own feet off. Might be our kind of thing."
"Dancers. They are toe shoes full of crazy." Dean says.
"You – and you would know this how?" Elena asks.
"I saw 'Black Swan'. Twice. Hot tutu-on-tutu action? Come on, Sam. What's wrong with you?" Dean asks.
"Wow. The depths of your – Anyway, it's in Portland, a couple hours away. What do you think?" Sam asks.
"Yeah, dancers. Why not? Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way." Dean says.
"Yeah, maybe." Sam says. They drive away in a black car that is not the Impala.
PORTLAND
POLICE STATION
[ ☼ ]
Sam, Elena and Dean enter the police station. "So, the usual—no EMF, no sulfur, no hex junk." Sam says.
"If there's no more dancers to interview on this trip, it could be a bust. Although I hear they have good coffee in Portland." Dean says.
"Dude, that's Seattle. Oh, let's just get the drill over with." Sam says.
The Duty Officer behind the desk is talking to another Officer. Dean clears his throat and Sam raises a hand. The Duty Officer raises a hand in acknowledgment, but continues to talk.
"Later." The Officer leaves.
"Hi." Elena waves.
"Yeah?"
"Uh, we'd like to see the crime-scene photos from the Irina Koganzon case, please." She says.
"And you would be..." The Officer says.
"Oh." Dean says as he, Elena and Sam show their FBI ID.
"Give me a minute."
"Take your time." Dean says. Another Officer is writing on an evidence bag that contains the ballet shoes. He puts the bag down on a table, at which a Young Girl is drawing. She reaches out an arm for the bag.
"No, you can't touch those, honey. Those are for Daddy's work." Officer 2 says.
"Daddy... I have to go pee." She says.
"Sweetie, you know where the little girls' room is." Officer 2 says as The Duty Officer gives Dean a case file that contains a crime scene picture of Irina and the ballet shoes.
"Yeah, I'd call that weird." Dean says.
The Young Girl enters the ladies room. The ballet shoes are on the floor. She closes the door behind her and puts one shoe on. It magically resizes to fit her feet.
Sam, Elena and Dean enter the evidence room and show their ID. "Hey, there. How you doing?" Sam asks.
"Okay. What can I do for you guys?" Officer 2 asks.
"Well, we need to see the shoes that were involved in the ballet dancer's death." Says Sam.
"Didn't figure that would be an FBI deal. But sure. Yeah, right here." Officer 2 turns around and sees that the ballet shoes are no longer on the table. "Damn it, Tracy."
"Who's Tracy?" Elena asks.
"My daughter. She loves ballet."
Dean, Elena and Sam burst into the ladies room. Tracy is sitting on the floor, wearing the ballet shoes. "Hey, take those shoes off." Sam says.
Tracy is pulled to her feet by an invisible force, goes up en pointe and begins to spin. Sam grabs Tracy around her middle.
"Dean, get the shoes!" Sam yells.
"I'm trying!" Dean yells.
Tracy's legs flail as Dean tries to grab her feet. She kicks Dean in the head. "Sorry!" She yells. Dean gets one shoe off.
"Come on, Dean!" Elena yells.
"I'm trying!"
Tracy kicks Dean in the head again. "Sorry!" She yells.
"I got it! I got it." Dean says.
"Uh! Okay. I'm going with cursed object." Sam says.
"You think?" Dean asks.
Sam looks to Tracy. "You okay?" He asks. Sam and Dean leave the ladies room. Sam is carrying the ballet shoes using a pen. A sticker in one of the shoes reads "$15.99 OUT WITH THE OLD". "Next stop – "Out With The Old". I suppose it's too much to hope that these shoes are the only thing in that store that we have to worry about."
"Oh, what a dreamer you are." Dean says. They leave the police station.
STREET
[ ☼ ]
Dean, Elena and Sam pull into a parking spot. The ballet shoes are in the back seat. "Hey. Didn't we put those in the trunk?" Dean says.
"H-how did they—" Sam starts.
"Cursed object, Sam." Dean says.
"Do they... look like they're... your size?" Asks Elena.
"Shut up." Dean says.
"Wait, a-are you—"
"Getting the strong urge to Prince Siegfried myself into oblivion? Yes." Dean says.
"You really did see 'Black Swan'." Sam says.
A Woman is talking to a man standing in the doorway of a tool shop. Next to her is an Assistant, who is carrying files, a bag and a case. "Well, it was nice seeing you, Mr. Marshall. Please call me if you have any questions about the offer." The Woman says
"I'll let you know." Marshall says.
"I don't think he's gonna sell." The Assistant says.
"Thinking is not your strong suit, George." The Woman stops at the passenger side and George walks to the driver's side of a car. "George? The door."
George hurries around to the passenger side, still carrying the files, bag and case, and opens the door. Sam and Dean cross the street behind the car. Sam is holding the ballet shoes out in front of him. They open the door to an antique store with a "Going Out Of Business Sale" sign on the door.
ANTIQUE STORE
[ ☼ ]
"Hello?" Sam calls out. A Man is mopping the floor. "Hey, did you sell these?"
"Uh, yeah." The Man says.
"Where did you get them?" Elena asks.
"Uh, m-my m-mother had them in that box." The Man says. Sam puts the ballet shoes down on a display cabinet and goes to get the box. It is made of wood and has symbols carved into the lid. Dean picks up the ballet shoes and appears transfixed by them. "I don't understand. What's happening?"
Sam holds out the open box to the Man. "This, in here?" Sam notices Dean holding the ballet shoes. "Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" He pulls the shoes away from Dean and puts them in the box. "Geez! You okay there, Baryshnikov?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm 'pas de done'." Dean says.
"Okay, if it's not too much trouble, do you mind telling me, uh, what's – what's going on?" The Man asks. Sam, Elena and Dean show their FBI ID.
"What's your name?" Sam asks.
"Uh, Scott – uh, Scott Freeman."
"You said these were your mother's? Where'd she get them?" Sam asks.
"I don't know. I found them in the back." Scott says.
"I got it."
"Now, where is your mother?" Asks Sam.
"Well, she's, uh... She passed away last week."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Scott, listen. These shoes..." Elena starts.
"Just some personal stuff she collected. I'm trying to get rid of it all." Scott says.
"All? Is there more like this?" Sam asks.
Dean walks back into the room holding up empty wooden boxes. "Sam." He says.
"Scott, what was in those boxes?" Sam asks.