Lilith was the final seal. I killed her and I set Lucifer free.
Sons of bitches jump-started Judgment Day.
- It's apocalypse now. - Raphael. Where is he?
God? He's dead, Castiel.
- You know who I am. - Lucifer.
- You're the one. You're my true vessel. - That'll never happen.
- You're the Michael Sword. - What?
- You're Michael's weapon. - I'm a vessel?
You're the vessel.
You got a Trickster on your hands.
- What is it? Spirit? Demon? - More like demigods.
They're immortal and they can create things out of thin air.
Usually with a sense of humor. Deadly pranks.
Bobby mentioned that these suckers have a real sweet tooth.
So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?
Sam, there's a lesson here.
- What lesson? - Dean's your weakness.
The bad guys know it too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam.
Supernatural is filmed before a live studio audience.
I'm gonna need a bigger mouth.
Hey there, Sam. What's happening?
Oh, nothing. Um...
...just the end of the world.
You're gonna need a bigger mouth.
Hey, uh, have you done your research yet?
Oh, yeah. All kinds of research. All night.
Yeah? Hm.
Whoo!
Oh, Dean.
We have some more research to do.
Whoo.
Dean.
Son of a bitch.
Town to town, two-lane roads
Family biz, two huntin' bros
Living the lie just to get by
As long as we're movin' forward
There's nothing we can't do
- Together we'll face the day - Face the day
You and I won't run away
When the demons come out to play
- Together we'll face the day - We'll face the day
All on-duty interns, please report to Nursing Station 5 South.
Doctor.
What are you watching?
Just some hospital show.
Dr. Sexy, M.D. I think it's based on a book.
Heh. When did you hit menopause?
It's called channel-surfing.
- You ready? - Are you?
One more time. The FBI is here why, exactly?
Something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off.
- Bill Randolph died from a bear attack. - How sure are you that it was a bear?
What else would it be?
Well, whatever it was, it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods...
...smashed through his front door, followed him...
...and killed him in his bedroom.
Is that common? A bear doing all that?
Depends how pissed off it is, I guess.
Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country.
You got trout runs that'll make a grown man weep and bears.
Right. Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing.
Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman.
She said bear?
Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma.
She's confused.
What did she say?
No, it must have been a bear.
I mean, what else could it have been?
Mrs. Randolph, what did you think it was?
Uh...
No, I remember clearly now. It was definitely a bear.
We're sure it was. But see, it helps us to hear every angle.
So just tell us what you thought you saw.
Well...
...it's impossible...
...but I could have sworn I saw...
...the Incredible Hulk.
- The Incredible Hulk? - I told you it was crazy.
You, um...
Bana or Norton?
Oh, no. Those movies were terrible. The TV Hulk.
- Lou Ferrigno? - Yes.
- The spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno? - Yes.
Huh.
- You think I'm crazy. - No. Um...
No, it's just... Is...?
Is there, uh?
Would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, um...
...would have a grudge against your husband?
No.
- Hey. - Find anything?
Well, I saw the house.
And?
And there is a giant 8-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be.
- Almost like, uh... - A Hulk-size hole?
Maybe. What do you got?
Well, turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper.
He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls...
...and court-ordered anger-management sessions.
You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry.
So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead.
Kind of sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?
Hm.
- It's all starting to make sense. - How is it starting to make sense?
Well, I found something else at the crime scene.
Candy wrappers.
Lots of them.
Just desserts, sweet tooth...
...screwing with people before you kill them.
We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?
Sure looks like.
Good. Been wanting to gank that mother since the Mystery Spot.
You sure?
Yeah, I'm sure.
No, I mean, are you sure you wanna kill him?
Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times.
No, I mean, I'm just saying.
What are you saying? You don't wanna kill him, then what?
- Talk to him. - What?
Look, think about it, Dean.
He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met.
- Maybe we can use him. - For what?
Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right?
Wine, women, song. Maybe he doesn't want the party to end.
Maybe he hates this angels-and-demons stuff as much as we do.
Maybe he'll help us.
- You're serious? - Yeah.
Ally with the Trickster?
Yeah.
A bloody, violent monster...
...and you wanna be Facebook friends with him?
Nice, Sammy.
The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand.
I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all.
If it doesn't work...
...we'll kill him.
How are we gonna find the guy?
Well, he never takes just one victim, right?
He'll show.
Dispatch? I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6.
- Hey. - Roger that.
What are you looking at there?
Honestly, Walt, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing.
Just send everybody.
All right, stay calm. Stay by your car. Help's on the way.
- That sounds weird. - Weird enough to be our guy?
There was a murder here.
And there's no police cars, there's nobody.
- How does that look to you? - Crappy.
What the hell?
- Doctor. - Doctor.
Doctor?
- Ow. What? - Seriously?
Seriously? You're brilliant, you know that?
And a coward. You're a brilliant coward.
Uh... What are you talking about?
As if you don't know.
I don't believe this.
- What? - That was Dr. Piccolo.
Who?
Dr. Ellen Piccolo.
The sexy yet earnest doctor at...
Seattle Mercy Hospital.
Uh, Dean.
- What the hell are you talking about? - The doctor get-ups. The sexy interns.
The "seriouslys." It all makes sense.
- What makes sense? What's going on? - We're in Dr. Sexy, M.D.
- Dude, what the hell? - I don't know.
- No, seriously. What the hell? - I don't know.
One theory. Any theory.
- Uh, the Trickster trapped us in TV Land? - That's your theory? That's stupid.
You're the one who said we're on Dr. Sexy, M.D.
Yeah, but TV Land isn't TV Land.
There's actors and lights and crew members. This looks real.
It can't be. Dean, how can this possibly be real?
I don't know, all right?
- Doctors. - But there goes Dr. Wang...
...the sexy but arrogant heart surgeon.
And there's Johnny Drake.
Oh, he's not even alive. He's a ghost in the mind of...
Of her.
The sexy but neurotic doctor over there.
So this show has ghosts?
Why?
I don't know. It is compelling.
- I thought you said weren't a fan. - I'm not. I'm not.
- Oh, boy. - What?
- It's him. - Who?
It's him. It's Dr. Sexy.
- Doctor. - Doctor.
Doctor.
You wanna give me one good reason why you defied my direct order...
...to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Beale?
- One reason? - Mm.
Sure.
- You're not Dr. Sexy. - You're crazy.
Really? Because I swore part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy...
...is the fact that he wears cowboy boots, not tennis shoes.
Yeah. You're not a fan.
It's a guilty pleasure.
- Call security. - Yeah, go ahead, pal.
See, we know what you are.
You guys are getting better.
Get us the hell out of here.
Or what?
Don't see your wooden stakes, big guy.
That was you on the police scanner, right? And this is a trick.
Hello?
Trickster.
Come on. I heard you two yahoos were in town, how could I resist?
- Where the hell are we? - You like it? It's all homemade.
My own sets, my own actors.
- Call it my own little idiot box. - How do we get out?
That, my friend, is the $64 question.
Whatever. We just...
We need to talk to you. We need your help.
Hmm. Let me guess.
You two muttonheads broke the world...
...and you want me to sweep up your mess.
Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out.
Sure. Tell you what.
Survive the next 24 hours, we'll talk.
- Survive what? - The game.
What game?
You're in it.
- How do we play? - You're playing it.
What are the rules?
Oh, son of a bitch.
Dr. Sexy?
Paging Dr. Sexy. Report to the ER.
Oh, by the way, talking with monsters? Hell of a plan.
Just... What do we do now?
You know what I'm doing? Leaving.
Lady, what the hell?
- You are a brilliant, brilliant... - Yeah, a coward, you already said that.
But I got news for you.
I am not a doctor.
No. Don't say that.
You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met...
...and I have met plenty.
So that girl died on your table. It wasn't your fault.
It wasn't anybody's fault.
Sometimes people just die.
I have no idea what you're saying to me.
You're afraid.
You're afraid to operate again and you're afraid to love.
Yeah, we're getting out of here.
Hey, doctor.
- Yes? - My wife needs that face transplant.
Okay, you know what, pal?
None of this is real, okay? And your wife doesn't need jack squat.
Okay?
Hey, doctor.
- Real. It's real. - No, no, no.
No, no, no. Hey! We need a doctor!
BP's 80/50 and dropping.
Doctor?
What?
Sam, do something. Come on.
I don't know how to use any of this crap.
Figure it out.
Sam. Come on, I'm waiting.
Okay, um, I need...
...a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle...
...and a fifth of whiskey.
Stat!
- We okay? How's it looking? - Yup. You'll be fine.
I love you.
Let's play Nutcracker!
Sam Winchester.
- Count down. - What? Uh...
- What am I supposed to say? - You think I know?
Uh, I don't understand Japanese.
Is he screwing with me? I... I can't speak Japanese.
Aww.
Mmm.
I'm sorry, Sam Winchester.
Sorry? Heh. Sorry for what?
Dean?
Nutcracker!
- Sam? - Yeah?
You okay?
Oh, now what?
Cass?
Is this another trick?
- It's me. Uh, what are you doing here? - Us? What are you doing here?
- Looking for you. You've been missing. - So get us the hell out of here then.
Aww.
Let's go.
- Cass? - No, no, no.
Mr. Trickster does not like pretty boy angels.
Dean Winchester.
- Count down. - What do I do?
- I don't wanna get hit in the nuts. - I know. Uh, uh... Just, um... Wait.
- What? - I played a doctor.
- What? - In Dr. Sexy, I played a doctor.
- I operated. - So?
I played the role the Trickster wanted. We have to go along with it.
- Go along with what? - With the game.
- You're on a game show. Just answer. - In Japanese? I don't know Japanese.
- Try. - Damn it.
Dean Winchester, Nutcracker champion!
- How did you do that? - I have no idea.
So that's it. We play our roles, we survive.
- Yeah, but play our roles for how long? - Good question.
I've got genital herpes.
Seriously?
Hey, you're the one who said play our roles, so...
Yeah. Right.
I've got genital herpes.
I tried to be responsible.
Did I try.
But now I take twice-daily Herpexia to reduce my chances of passing it on.
Ask your doctor about using Herpexia.
Patients should always consult with a physician...
...before using Herpexia.
Possible side effects include headache, diarrhea...
...permanent erectile dysfunction, thoughts of suicide, and nausea.
I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the spread of...
Of... genital herpes.
And that's a good thing.
We now return to Supernatural.
Son of a bitch.
I am really, really very sorry...
...but, ahem, we've got some work to do.
But we did do work.
In depth.
How long do we have to keep doing this?
I don't know.
Maybe forever?
We might die in here.
How is that funny? Vultures.
- You okay? - I don't have much time.
- What happened? - I got out.
- From where? - Listen to me. Something is not right.
This thing is more powerful than it should be.
- The Trickster? - If it's a Trickster.
What do you mean?
Hello!
Thank you.
Thank you. Please, stop.
Hi, Castiel.
- You know him? - Where did you just send him?
Relax. He'll live.
Maybe.
All right, you know what? I'm done with the monkey dance, okay? We get it.
Yeah? Get what, hotshot?
Playing our roles, right?
- That's your game. - That's half the game.
- What's the other half? - Play your roles out there.
- What's that supposed to mean? - You know.
Sam, starring as Lucifer. Dean, starring as Michael.
Your celebrity deathmatch. Play your roles.
You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?
Hells, yeah. Let's light this candle.
- We do that, the world will end. - Yeah?
And whose fault is that?
Who popped Lucifer out of the box, hm?
Look, it's started.
You started it. It can't be stopped.
So let's get it over with.
Heaven or hell. Which side you on?
I'm not on either side.
Yeah, right. You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?
You listen to me, you arrogant dick.
I don't work for either of those SOBs, believe me.
Mm. No, you're somebody's bitch.
Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am.
Now, listen very closely. Here's what's gonna happen.
You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities...
...and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you.
And if we don't?
Then you'll stay here in TV Land, forever.
Three hundred channels and nothing's on.
- Oh, come on. - So, what do you think?
What do I think? I think go screw yourself, that's what I think.
Uh, could you give us a sec, please? Thanks.
- You gotta calm down. - Calm down?
I am wearing sunglasses at night.
You know who does that? No-talent douche bags. I hate this game.
I hate that we're in a procedural cop show, wanna know why?
Because I hate procedural cop shows.
There's like 300 of them. They're all the same.
It's, "Ooh...
...plane crashed here." Oh, shut up.
- Hey. - What?
Check out sweet tooth over there.
You think that's him?
Just, uh, follow my lead.
- You, uh... You okay? - Yeah.
What do we got?
Well, aside from the ligature marks around his neck...
...he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat.
Well, I say...
...jackpot.
Mm.
Also, there is a stab wound to the lower abdomen there.
Well, I say...
...no guts, no glory.
Get that guy a...
...TUMS.
Gutter ball.
Good one, guys.
- You got the wrong guy, idiot. - Did we?
I'm worried, man. What that SOB did to Cass.
You know, where is he?
Sam?
Where are you?
It's Sam. Leave me a message.
Sam, it's me.
Where the hell did you go?
Dean?
Sam?
Where are you?
I don't know.
Oh, crap.
I don't think we killed the Trickster.
Okay, stake didn't work. So, what, this another trick?
I don't know.
Maybe the stake didn't work because it's not a Trickster.
- What do you mean? - You heard Cass.
He said this thing was too powerful to be a Trickster.
Notice the way he looked at Cass? Like he knew him.
And how pissed he got when you brought up Michael and Lucifer.
Son of a bitch.
- What? - I think I know what we're dealing with.
- Dean? - What?
That, uh, feels really uncomfortable.
Ow.
Are you sure this is gonna work?
No, but I have no other ideas.
All right, you son of a bitch!
Uncle!
We'll do it!
Should I honk?
Wow, Sam...
...get a load of the rims on you. - Eat me.
Okay, boys.
- Ready to go quietly? - Whoa, whoa, whoa, not so fast.
Nobody's going anywhere until Sam has opposable thumbs.
What's the difference? Satan's gonna ride his ass one way or another.
Happy?
Tell me one thing. Why didn't the stake kill you?
- I am the Trickster. - Or maybe you're not.
Maybe you've always been an angel.
Ha-ha-ha. A what?
Somebody slip a mickey in your power shake, kid?
I'll tell you what.
You just jump out of the holy fire and we'll call it our mistake.
Well played, boys.
Well played.
Where'd you get the holy oil?
Well, you might say we pulled it out of Sam's ass.
- Where'd I screw up? - You didn't.
But nobody gets the jump on Cass like you did.
Mostly, it was the way you talked about Armageddon.
- Meaning? - Well, call it personal experience.
Nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family.
So which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy or Douchey?
Gabriel, okay?
They call me Gabriel.
Gabriel? The archangel?
Guilty.
Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a Trickster?
My own private witness protection.
I skipped out of heaven, had a face transplant...
...carved out my own little corner of the world...
...till you two screwed it all up.
What did Daddy say when you joined the pagans?
Daddy doesn't say anything about anything.
Then what happened? Why'd you ditch?
Well, do you blame him? His brothers are heavyweight douche nozzles.
Shut your cake hole.
You don't know anything about my family.
I loved my father, my brothers.
Loved them, but watching them turn on each other...
...tear at each other's throats?
I couldn't bear it, okay?
So I left.
And now it's happening all over again.
Then help us stop it.
It can't be stopped.
- You wanna see the end of the world? - I want it to be over.
I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other, thanks to you.
Heaven, hell, I don't care who wins.
- I just want it to be over. - It doesn't have to be like that.
There has to be some way to pull the plug.
You do not know my family.
What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner.
That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war.
It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other.
You think you'd be able to relate.
What are you talking about?
You sorry sons of bitches.
Why do you think you two are the vessels?
Think about it.
Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father.
And Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan.
You were born to this, boys.
It's your destiny. It was always you.
As it is in heaven, so it must be on Earth.
One brother has to kill the other.
What the hell are you saying?
Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you?
Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here...
...we knew it was all gonna end with you.
Always.
No.
That's not gonna happen.
I'm sorry...
...but it is.
Guys, I wish this were a TV show.
Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow.
But this is real.
And it's gonna end bloody for all of us.
That's just how it's gotta be.
So, boys, now what?
Stare at each other for the rest of eternity?
First, you're gonna bring Cass back from wherever you stashed him.
- Oh, am I? - Yeah.
Or we're going to dunk you in some holy oil...
...and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.
Cass, you okay?
I'm fine.
Hello, Gabriel.
Hey, bro.
How's the search for Daddy going?
Let me guess. Awful.
Okay, we're out of here.
Come on, Sam.
Uh, okay.
Guys? So... So, what? Huh?
You're just gonna... You're gonna leave me here forever?
No.
We're not, because we don't screw with people the way you do.
And for the record...
...this isn't about some prizefight between your brothers.
Or some destiny that can't be stopped.
This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.
Don't say I never did anything for you.
All that stuff he was spouting in there, you think he was telling the truth?
I think he believes it.
So, what do we do?
I don't know.
I'll tell you one thing, right about now, I wish I was back on a TV show.
Yeah, me too.