The Winchesters

Oh, dear.

Car trouble?

And on my way back from the market

with a pot roast already in the oven.

I don't suppose you'd mind giving me a ride to town

so I can find someone who can fix this?

Wouldn't mind at all,

but let me see if I can help you first.

You really know about cars?

And my husband's the Julia Child of the family.

Oh!

Hmm.

I'm guessing you have a loose drive belt.

It's an easy fix with a wrench and some sweat.

Oh, my husband keeps a toolbox in the trunk.

Wait here.

What are the odds, huh? A gal who's good with cars

happening down this same way.

Hmm.

I sure am lucky. Wouldn't you agree?

Dorothea.

Okay, you're all set.

Anything breaks into your hideout,

this box will let you know. Loudly.

How's it work?

A rare and dangerous magic called technology.

Relays, inverter relays, circuitry

all wired through the phone lines

to pressure switches

mounted on the clubhouse entrances.

Nice. Thank you.

Just doing my part. Now, if I could just get

that monster-box of yours working again.

- Any luck with the Ostium? - Well, at this point,

I have ruled out replacing the carburetor.

Later, alligators.

All right, where were we?

Well, your dad and Ada are still out looking for magic

to defeat the Akrida, and Carlos and Lata

are searching the Akrida queen, so that leaves us with...

deep cuts from the Men of Letters back catalogue.

Hooray.

There has to be something in here

about taking out the Akrida.

KSU?

You about to trade me in

for a guy with elbow patches on his jacket?

Don't wig out, soldier boy. It's close to home.

Well, open it.

- What if I don't get in? - Well...

KSU is a pretty big party school,

so that probably rules you out.

Hey!

I don't even know what I'm gonna study.

I'm pretty sure that's the point of undergrad.

Here. I'll read it for you.

What?

I got in?

I got in.

A normal life's right around the corner for you, Campbell.

Think it's a glitch?

With our luck?

Normal life is gonna have to wait another day.

Hunting and happy endings don't usually mix,

so when you get your chance, you got to ask yourself,

"How far will I go to get it?"

Well, this has been a spectacular failure.

We've scoured every location Samuel suspected

the Akrida queen could be and found nothing.

I mean, perhaps we should circle back,

check our work.

Yeah. I was thinking the same thing.

Of course, that could be a colossal waste of time.

Totally agree.

Or I could take a machete from your collection

and chop you up into tiny, little bits.

Sounds great. Wait, what?

You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?

You've been distracted this entire trip.

Missing exits,

forgetting your silver blade at the diner last night.

I didn't forget my silver blade.

Yes, you did.

Come on. What's on your mind?

Is it the Akrida?

The whole end of the world bit?

It's Anton.

I thought things were going well.

Yeah, that's the problem.

I can't stop thinking about him.

I even saw his beautiful, round, dimpled face

in my blueberry pancakes I ordered this morning.

So things are getting serious.

I can't believe I'm actually saying this,

but I'm...

Taking things slow.

And that's a bad thing because?

Because taking things slow and seeing faces in pancakes

is for stupid, boring people

who don't have the fate of the world

on their excellently proportioned shoulders.

No, but it's fine, all right? I know what I have to do.

- No. No. No. - Yes. Yes. Yes.

- No. No. - Yes. Yes.

Ow. - Proportioned shoulders.

You are not breaking up with him.

- What do you expect me to do? - Oh, I don't know.

Maybe accept your feelings instead of throwing them away.

I mean, remember Raquel? Or Beth?

Or sad, sad, little Kevin? - No, no, no, not really.

And that's kind of the whole goal.

And just like all lovers of yore,

alas, it is time to officially end things with Anton.

And forget what I need to forget.

Wait a minute. Maybe that's the answer.

Well, thank you. I'm glad you see

I make a compelling argument.

Okay, no. Not you. Hush. You're an idiot.

I'm talking about finding the Akrida queen.

Every person we freed from the Akrida's control

had one of those monsters in their head, right?

If they still have memories from that time,

perhaps one of them might be able to help us.

And I might just know the right person to see

if you are right.

Oh, my God.

That's mildly disturbing.

Are these alphabetized?

You know of any monsters that like to break in

and clean up in record time?

Mary Poppins.

Wait, is Mary Poppins... no.

Ah, right on schedule.

May I pour you some chamomile?

Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?

I might ask the same of you.

My name is Porter J. Hobbes,

Men of Letters identification number 22-8,

and I used my key to come here to help you.

Help us with what?

Well, with the task at hand, of course.

Killing the Akrida queen.

Well, his bona fides check out.

- No Akrida marks. - Holy water?

Drank the whole glass. Thanked me for it.

Guy's definitely human.

Think we can trust him?

Hey, Tea Time, the Men of Letters

got wiped out years ago, so we're gonna need

the full encyclopedia entry

of who you are and where the hell you've been.

I must say I am pleasantly surprised.

It was my experience Hunters stab first

and ask questions never.

Everything in its place.

I was a neurosurgeon until a very charming gentleman

named Mr. Glass recruited me into the Men of Letters.

I was honored to serve as their master physician.

You stitched up members.

Oh, no, no, no. Not at all.

Men of Letters rarely got their hands dirty.

No, I was brought in

to experiment on the minds of monsters.

Wait, so the monster morgue downstairs,

that's your office? - Yes.

I singlehandedly designed and built the laboratory

to conduct my research experiments.

I was mostly tasked with turning monsters into watchdogs

to guard our more secure locations.

A lobotomy to the frontal cortex

makes many a monster subservient.

So where have you been?

I retired to return

to my private practice about 15 years ago.

When you worked here, did you know my father?

Henry Winchester. He was an initiate.

Uh, I apologize,

but that name doesn't ring any bells.

If your father was a member, that makes you a legacy then.

Oh, how wonderful for your family.

I never had time to have one of my own.

Do you know what happened to the Men of Letters?

My best guess: the Akrida.

Shortly before my retirement, they had returned.

We managed to push them back to their own world.

- With the Ostium? - Indeed,

but we suffered severe casualties.

They retreated, but some of them remained hidden.

Including... - The queen.

Yes, indeed.

I retired,

but I continued to study them.

And when I found out they were staging another attack,

I amped up my research,

and I'd like to share with you what I uncovered.

Hello? Anyone in there?

Lata,

is she dead?

The hell you want?

It's okay.