Supernatural

“The Lore.” Hunters. Men of Letters.

What a load of crap!

I'm a demon.

There's no point in trying to bring your brother back now.

This isn't even the real you I'm talking to.

Oh, it's the real me, all right.

Welcome back, Dean.

How you doing? I'm good.

But I need to work.

If things go sideways -- I mean, like, an inch --

you gotta give me the heads-up.

Done.

We got work to do.

What is it -- what -- a-a spirit, demon, what?

This can't be possible.

Dragons, dude.

We're hunting a Djinn. A freaking genie?

Well, then, what are you?

I'm a pishtaco. A fish taco?

It's not a man-droid.

It's a shapeshifter.

Vampire pirates?

Vampirates.

Smurfs? Fairies.

Fairies? Nipples?

Come on.

Bitch!

Tulpas require a ton of psychic energy.

It's not a Tulpa.

It's Calliope.

I think I know what we're dealing with here.

It's the Stay Puft marshmallow man.

Now, now.

I know it's a terribly sad day.

Bunny Lacroix was a good woman,

a fair employer with a kind heart.

But there is work to be done.

In less than 24 hours,

the Lacroix family will descend upon this estate

for the funeral and the reading of the will,

and it is our duty to make sure this manor's in tip-top shape.

We owe that much to Bunny.

Colette.

To the master closet.

I'd like you to select Mrs. Lacroix's wardrobe

for the burial.

Olivia.

Please make sure all the lavatories are spotless.

Why do I have to --

Now, now.

You're still the new hire.

Colette has seniority.

Chop-chop. There's no time to waste.

But...

Y-you're dead.

Aah!

Aaaaaaah!

What have you done?

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

Hey, yo.

Individually brewed.

Technology, man.

Real men don't drink out of cups this small.

What is that -- “cinnamon roll”?

It's, uh, “glazed donut.”

Look, man, if you don't want it, I --

Nah, it's -- got it.

So, any leads on the scanner or the...Interweb?

Nothing -- not even a cat up a tree.

So right when we're ready to jump back into it,

it, uh, goes radio silence.

Murphy's law.

Well, Murphy's a douche.

Hey, feel like taking a detour to Connecticut?

What?

Found it while I was dustbusting.

One of ours?

It's one of Bobby's.

And, in total, 27 messages.

The only one that counts is from two days ago.

Apparently, Bobby's been named a beneficiary

in Bunny Lacroix's will.

Bunny Lawho?

Attorney said she's an heiress,

and Bobby's presence or next of kin

is being requested in New Canaan.

I figured we qualify.

How did Bobby know an heiress?

Bobby had secrets, man.

Like loving on Tori Spelling.

If he only knew Dean cheated on her.

Anyway, road trip?

Who knows? Maybe Bobby earned us some beer money.

Wow.

Think we're a little underdressed?

I mean, the Fed threads are in the trunk.

You kidding me?

For once, we don't have to wear suits.

You're lucky my waistband's not elastic.

May I help you?

I'm Sam Winchester. This is Dean Winchester.

We're here on behalf of Bobby Singer.

Mr. Singer won't be coming?

No. He passed away.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

Uh, condolences for your loss, too.

Thank you.

Well, you just missed the funeral,

but the family's relaxing inside, if you'd like to join.

Allow me to introduce Sam and Dean Winchester.

Sam and Dean Winchester of the Westchester Winchesters?

U-uh, n-- no.

I don't think there's...

Nah. ...Any relation.

Sorry. No matter.

You two are...

...adorable.

Oh.

The pink one. No. I mean the red one.

I'm Heddy, Bunny's cousin, and this is my sister, Beverly.

Charmed, I'm sure.

And that's Bunny's youngest brother,

Stanton -- “Stan” for short.

Come on in, fellas.

Join the mourning.

And his child bride, Amber.

Go, Stan!

Babe, don't. You're breaking my concentration.

And then there's Dash. That's the baby of the family.

He's Bunny's great-nephew -- Harvard business.

How do you guys know Aunt Bunny?

We, uh --

we -- we -- we didn't personally know her.

Our -- our surrogate dad, Bobby Singer, did.

Did.

Bobby? Never heard of him.

But you can fill us in over the weekend, huh?

The weekend?

Didn't the attorney tell you?

Service was today, and the reading of the will tomorrow.

Oh, but you're welcome to spend the night.

All the rooms sleep two.

Or three.

Okay.

Where's Colette?

She quit.

Poor dear was so distraught over Mrs. Lacroix's passing.

Went off to find herself.

Ashram in India?

Uh, Clown College in Sarasota.

Mm. Good choice.

May I have a word with you in the hall in five minutes?

Sure. Yeah.

Mm-hmm.

So Sam...

Tell me...

Do you...work out?

Charmed, I'm sure.

What are these people?

I think they're called W.A.S.P.S.

What?

My apologies for being so oblique back there,

but I'm doing you boys a favor.

O-okay.

As you know,

Mrs. Lacroix bequeathed something to your Mr. Singer.

But the reading of the will isn't until tomorrow,

and I would hate for you to have to stick around

and be forced to -- well, mingle with the family.

Don't worry, Alfred. We know which one the shrimp fork is.

Kind of.

Oh, Mr. Winchester.

If you're implying that I don't think you're good enough,

I-it's quite the contrary.

You're far too good.

The Lacroix family is -- well...

How shall I say this politely?

...money-grubbing leeches.

What are you talking about? I thought they were all loaded.

Loaded -- yes. Rich -- no.

The recession hit every one of them,

and I'm afraid if they knew what Bunny left you,

those vultures would try to stake claim.

And since the attorney kindly agreed to a hand-off,

you don't have to be subjected to their scrutiny.

Do you have any idea

how Bunny and Bobby knew each other?

Not in the slightest.

Um, now, if there's nothing else,

shall I have Olivia show you out?

No, no. That's, uh -- we got it. Thanks.

Huh.

Kind of fancy to leave a guy like Bobby.

You thinking what I'm thinking?

If Bunny was banging Bobby, then maybe these rocks are real.

What do you mean it's not real?

The old bag was rolling in it.

Well, looks like the old bag's got a soft spot

for fake rubies and cubic zirconium.

This is interesting, though.