Supernatural s07e16 Episode Script

SAM: These are curse boxes.
Supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right.
Like the Pandora deal? They're built to contain the power of the cursed object.
DEAN: Frank's been working on the numbers that Bobby spent his last breath on.
FRANK: It's coordinates.
- To what? A field in Wisconsin, recently purchased by Wellman Inc.
, a subsidiary of You wanna win, you gotta be the shark.
Sharks gotta eat.
Richard Roman Enterprises.
Ready to build something.
- Build what? - Exactly.
What? SAM: I'm a grade-A freak, but I'm managing it.
Something's definitely different now.
You let me in.
- Shut up.
- He said "shut up" to me.
Think you can use your tricks to banish me again? Like that? No, I do believe I've got you, bunk buddy.
[LUCIFER CACKLES.]
No Irena again.
- Guess she's too famous for us.
- Heh.
[IN EUROPEAN ACCENT.]
No, she just wants to be alone.
[ALL LAUGH.]
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Irena, a little late for practice, no? Never too late.
Practice makes perfect.
If you have the talent.
[DANCER SCOFFS.]
[TCHAIKOVSKY'S "SWAN'S THEME" PLAYING ON STEREO.]
[PANTING.]
[SCREAMS.]
[SCREAMING.]
Dick's funding an archeological dig? Unless Dick's 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.
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.
- Where the hell is Tromso? - Norway, you moron.
[SIGHS.]
By the way, they opened another Biggerson in Butte.
- Well, we're not in Montana.
- Oh, you know where Butte is.
That's encouraging.
So where are you? - We're in Oregon.
- No, I got nothing in Oregon.
Wisconsin, Frank.
- What about it? - The coordinates.
Bobby's coordinates.
Bobby? Oh, right.
Yeah, no, I got nothing.
- I got no activity.
- Well, work on it.
Hey, when did you become the boss of me? Don't like what I'm doing, stick it up your Montana.
All right.
Take it easy, Frank.
Oh, and another thing Frank? Hello? Fra - He's a crazy son of a bitch.
- Who, Frank? You know, having a cranky, total paranoid as your go-to guy, that's I don't know what it is.
Going for the Guinness Record of caffeine consumption? - That's, like, your fifth this morning.
- Every time I close my eyes Lucifer is yelling into my head.
I let him in once, now I can't get rid of him.
- You know, he's not actually - Yeah, no, I know.
Um, try telling that to the volume control in my brain.
Did you try the hand thing? Yeah.
Anyway, long as I'm awake, check it out.
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.
- Heh.
And you would know this how? - I saw Black Swan.
Twice.
Hot tutu-on-tutu action.
Come on, what's wrong with you? Wow, the depths of your Ugh, anyway, it's in Portland, couple hours away.
- What do you think? - Yeah.
Dancers.
Why not? Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way.
Heh.
Yeah, maybe.
[ENGINE REVS.]
So the usual, no EMF of sulfur, no hex junk.
If there's no dancers to interview, trip could be a bust.
- I hear they have good coffee in Portland.
- Dude, that's Seattle.
- Let's just get the drill over with.
- Ahem.
[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY.]
Yeah, I'll check.
Thank you.
Okay, later.
- Hi.
- Yeah? Uh, we'd like to see crime scene photos from the Irena Koganzon case, please.
And you would be? Oh.
[SAM CLEARS THROAT.]
- Give me a minute.
- Take your time.
No, you can't touch those, honey.
Those are for daddy's work.
Daddy, I have to go pee.
Sweetie, you know where the little girls' room is.
I'd call that weird.
SAM: Hey, there.
How you doing? - Okay.
What can I do for you? - We need to see the shoes that were involved in the ballet dancer's death.
Didn't figure that would be an FBI deal.
But sure, yeah, right here.
Damn it, Tracy.
- Who's Tracy? - My daughter, she loves ballet.
[SIGHS.]
[GASPS.]
Hey, take those shoes off.
SAM: Dean, get the shoes.
- I'm trying.
[ALL GRUNTING.]
TRACY: Sorry! SAM: Come on, Dean! DEAN: I'm trying.
[GRUNTING CONTINUES.]
TRACY: Sorry! - I got it.
- Ah.
Okay.
[DEAN AND SAM PANTING.]
- I'm going with cursed object.
- You think? You okay? Next stop: Suppose it's too much to hope shoes are the only thing in that store to worry about.
- Oh, what a dreamer you are.
DEAN: Hey.
Didn't we put those in the trunk? - How did they? - Cursed object, Sam.
- Do they look like they're your size? - Shut up.
Wait, are you? Getting the urge to Prince Siegfried myself into oblivion? - Yes.
- You really did see Black Swan.
Well, it was nice seeing you, Mr.
Marshall.
Call me if you have any questions about the offer.
I'll let you know.
I don't think he's gonna sell.
Thinking is not your strong suit, George.
George? The door.
Hello? - Hey, did you sell these? - Uh, yeah.
- Where did you get them? - Um, my mother had them in that box.
I don't understand, what's happening? This, in here? Hey, hey, hey.
Jeez.
[SIGHS.]
You okay there, Baryshnikov? Yeah, yeah, I'm pas de done.
If it's not too much trouble, do you mind telling me, uh, what's going on? - What's your name? - Uh, uh, Scott Freeman.
You said these were your mother's? - Where did she get them? - I don't know.
I found them in the back.
I got it.
- Now, where is your mother? - She, uh, passed away last week.
I'm sorry to hear that.
Scott, listen, these shoes Just some personal stuff she collected.
I'm trying to get rid of it all.
- AII? Is there more like this? DEAN: Sam.
Scott, what was in those boxes? [CHOPPING.]
[HUMMING.]
[TEA KETTLE WHISTLING THEN WOMAN GASPS.]
[FLESH SIZZLING.]
Okay, what the hell kind of FBI guys are you? The kind that are trying to fix the mess you started.
Now, where'd your mom get these? I don't know.
I found them in her safe.
Ever occur to you that these things might be in that safe for a reason? I just thought it was some of the junk that she collected over the years.
I knew was into weird stuff, but I never thought Yeah, well, think again.
- Because this junk is killing people.
- What? How can that be? Scott, we need to know exactly what you sold out of that safe and the names and addresses of who you sold it to.
DEAN: What do we got? - She bought a tea kettle.
- Tea kettle.
- Yeah.
Enough curse mojo, you can turn a pencil into a weapon of mass destruction.
Good times.
You better call this in.
Hello.
Yeah.
I'd like to report an accident at 23, Gorham Road.
My name? Uh Bruce Hornsby.
All right.
Who's next on the list? All right.
Ahem.
We got a, uh, gramophone sold to Brenda Gluck, 413 River Street.
And a vintage gentleman's magazine sold to a Peter Yankit 27 Johnson Lane.
- Really? - Yeah.
- All right, we better split up.
Why don't you take the gramophone, I'll handle the old rag.
I wouldn't really handle it if I were you.
Remember those shoes.
Oh, yeah.
How could I forget? You know, I wonder how old porn kills you.
- Pretty sure you don't wanna know.
- You're probably right.
- All right, let's do this.
- Yep.
[UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING.]
I'm gonna run these upstairs.
I'll be right back.
Uh-huh.
WOMAN [WHISPERING OVER GRAMOPHONE.]
: Hey, Timmy.
Hey, Timmy.
Come here.
I have a secret for you.
Hey, Timmy.
Come here.
Hey, Timmy.
Timmy.
Come here.
Timmy.
[INDISTINCT WHISPERING.]
[WOMAN SCREAMS.]
[WOMAN AND SAM PANTING.]
Where's the gramophone? Hey, that's mine.
Kid, this would be a good time for a lesson in gratitude.
Lucky for you, I'm too tired.
[CELL PHONE RINGS.]
[SIGHS.]
[BEEPS.]
- Hey.
DEAN [OVER PHONE.]
: Hey.
Got the porn.
Just in time too.
- What was he doing? - Uh, like you said, you don't wanna know.
- Where you at? - I just got the gramophone.
I'm across town, I'll head your way.
So my mom wasn't just some whack job and all this stuff is real? - Yup.
- Well, now, I really feel like crap.
- How come? - I kept pushing her to sell the store.
She kept saying no, and I kept pushing her.
You know, telling her how much money she'd make.
- You think you changed her mind? - I don't know.
This real estate lady kept coming around and then one day just like that, mom says okay.
Then she had that accident, and never even got to enjoy the money.
How soon after? - The next day.
- The - How did she die? - Car crash.
You know, I keep thinking if I hadn't pushed her, then Yeah, a little tip.
Uh Feeling guilty ain't gonna bring them back.
Best you can do is live your life the way that you think would make her proud.
Or at least not embarrass the crap out of her.
[SIGHS.]
Oh, uh You know the drill, right? Don't touch those boxes.
Don't go near the safe.
Once we get it boxed up, we'll get a U-Haul get everything out of here.
- Believe me, I got it.
You know, Mr.
Marshall, the block won't be the same.
Most of your neighbors have already sold.
Now, I've prepared an analysis report for you.
George? Not this one, George.
Mr.
Marshall's.
[JOYCE CHUCKLES.]
Hard to find good help these days.
Anyway, as you can see, our offer is more than generous.
- Seems that way.
- With that generous offer you can pretty much go wherever, and do whatever you please.
You can get on with your life.
MARSHALL: You know, Ms.
Bicklebee I came here tonight with every intention of selling.
But what you just said about getting on with my life? That store is my life.
I can't sell.
Look, we all feel attached to our past but it's the future that's the real adventure Sorry, not selling.
And I ain't buying that crap either, lady.
Well, if that's your decision, what can I say? Heh.
I wish you the best of luck with the rest your life.
What little there is left of it.
[BONES CRUNCHING.]
[GRUNTS.]
See, as promised.
On the dotted line.
What? Well, maybe you were a little quick on the trigger.
First, the woman at the antique shop, and now this.
You know that Mr.
Roman doesn't like us calling attention to ourselves - So, what should I do with the body? - There, that's the attitude.
Okay, take Mr.
Marshall and his stinky cigar home and put them in bed.
Oh, and George make sure the cigar is lit.
You know, burning hot.
[POLICE SIREN WAILING.]
There goes Mr.
Marshall.
Should've quit smoking, can be hazardous to your health.
[CHUCKLES.]
[COUGHS.]
Do you know how many assistants I've had since taking this body, George? - Maybe three? - Five.
I leave it to your imagination what happened to the first four.
- Is something wrong with the brew? - You tell me.
What did I ask for? - A hot cup of coffee? - That's right.
Got the coffee part.
But did I say hot, or, I don't know, tepid? Four, George.
Just saying.
So go to that nice barista on Main and get me a grande, non-fat, no-whip, white mocha one pump sugar-free, double-shot espresso, okay? Sure, uh, but that's all the way across town.
- Okay.
See you at 8:45.
- I won't be back till 9.
[ROCK MUSIC PLAYING LOUDLY OVER RADIO.]
[CELL PHONE RINGING.]
[MUSIC STOPS.]
Hey, what's up? I'm on my way.
Yeah, not sure we're taking the safe out of town just yet.
WOMAN: Here you go.
- Thanks.
Um, so it turns out that Mama Hoarder didn't just die and leave the store to Scott.
- She didn't? - No.
Listen.
Lady spends 40 years trying to keep that place, right? Then one day, she wakes up and sells.
Next day, drives her car off a cliff.
So, uh, what, you think somebody cut her brakes or something? DEAN: I think the world is full of hilarious coincidences.
Oh, and there's this new company, never even tasted real estate just gobbled up a chunk of Main Street.
Now, I could be off the deep end here, but doesn't that seem weird to you? Sam? Sam? Yeah, yeah.
Sounds good, keep me posted.
- Sounds good? Are you all right? - You know how they say that, uh sleep deprivation is an enhanced interrogation technique? Yeah.
Trust me, it's torture.
[LINE DISCONNECTS.]
[TYPING ON KEYBOARD.]
Son of a bitch.
[LINE RINGS.]
- This better be good.
DEAN [OVER PHONE.]
: Frank.
I don't mean to double-dip in your crazy sauce, no offense.
None taken, fudge-pop.
But I think I found something.
My silence is your cue, Dean.
There's this new company buying up a bunch of mom-and-pops in Portland.
I hit a firewall when I tried to access its site.
- Think you can crack it? - Can a dog play poker? - I don't - The answer is yes.
- What's the company name? - Uh, Geo Thrive Inc.
[TIRES SCREECHING.]
[TRUCK HORN BLARING.]
[GRUNTING.]
[PANTING.]
GEORGE: Wait! I said one pump sugar-free, not two.
Extra pump's on the house.
That's nice, but my boss is gonna be able to tell okay, so, please, just make me a new one.
There's people in line, and I'm here all alone, so enjoy the free pump.
How about make me a new one.
How about you eat me.
Don't tempt me.
- You're lucky I'm late.
MAN: So lucky.
Next.
SAM: Can I get, uh, a triple red-eye, please? MAN: It's your funeral.
JOYCE [OVER PHONE.]
: What are you talking about, George? Where's my coffee? I am seriously not kidding.
- You're sure it's him? - Of course, I'm sure.
Sam Winchester is going into that antique shop we just bought.
- You think they're here for us? - No.
Trust me.
Heh.
If the Winchesters were here for us, we'd know.
[CHUCKLES.]
- I am going to enjoy this.
- Enjoy? Enjoy what, George? Well, eating him is pretty much what I was thinking.
- What? No.
- No? Come back to the office.
Now.
We have a chain of command here, George.
You see a Winchester, you don't eat him.
You tell me, and I eat him.
What, do you think I'm gonna tell Dick, "I think he ate him but I didn't see it?" What, I'm supposed to vouch for you, George? Like you're not one dumb move away from a bibbing already? Come on.
- But l - Oh, no.
- But - No! [IN LOW VOICE.]
No, no, no.
Hup! [SCOFFS.]
Oh! [IN NORMAL VOICE.]
Two pumps.
Really, George? DEAN: Frank.
Tell me you got something.
No, I'm calling with the Lakers-Celtics score.
- What? - Of course, I got something.
I figured out why you hit that firewall.
My silence is your cue, Frank.
Oh-ho-ho.
Touché.
You were trying to access the Geo Thrive internal site and the reason why you couldn't is because if you dig down deep it's all Dick.
Helpful, if you didn't say that about everything.
Yeah, except I'm operating on hard fact now, wiseass.
You telling me Geo Thrive is part of Roman Inc? It's a conglomerate within a subsidiary within a conglomerate.
- It's all tied together, Dean.
- Okay.
So, what? Leviathans are Wal-Marting mom-and-pops? And Bingo was his name-o.
Aah! So we've got a big old field in Wisconsin and a bunch of frigging shops in Portland, what the hell are they up to? Beats me, all I know is it's corporate and smelly as the day is long.
If I were you, I'd get out of Dodge, pronto.
- People are dying here, Frank.
- Sure, every second.
Check the obesity stats, that town ain't nothing special.
We're not done here, okay? And we might get some answers.
Fine.
Call me if you don't die.
SAM: So? DEAN: That'll work.
Uh, how's it going? Just got off the phone with Frank.
Apparently, we have a bit of a Leviathan issue in this town.
- Leviathans, here? - Yeah.
We're looking at a big old giant nesting doll of Dick as far as property sales go.
[SIGHS.]
- Hey, you hearing me? - Yeah.
Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry.
Okay, you know what? Enough with the insomnia crap all right, Pacino? You need to crash.
I'll keep working, you find a motel and get some sleep, okay? It doesn't matter what I do, Dean.
Lucifer will not shut up.
Even now? He's singing "Stairway to Heaven" right now.
- Good song.
- Not 50 times in a row.
Huh.
[CELL PHONE RINGS.]
- Hey, Scott.
- Please, Sam, you gotta help me.
What's happening? I looked in one of my mom's mirrors I wanna rip my face off.
- It was cursed.
- Hold tight.
Uh, we're on our way.
He touched something he was not supposed to.
Of course, he did.
[DEAN GROANS.]
Was, uh, that okay? Well, not exactly Oscar-worthy, but I was convinced.
Not that it matters because you don't have any more lines.
Now what? Now we wait for meal service.
So, um, one more body we're gonna have to spirit away, huh? Actually, no.
As you so helpfully pointed out earlier Dick doesn't like making the papers.
Well, right, so, what's the plan? Well, we can't have Scott here running his mouth.
Loose lips, yada, yada, yada.
We will kill him.
[SCOTT WHIMPERS.]
But that doesn't mean anyone ever has to notice he's dead.
Pack your bags, Georgie.
You are turning into one Scott Freeman for the next, oh 30 some odd years.
Right, Scotty? [CHUCKLES.]
[CAR APPROACHING.]
- So much for the cursed mirror.
- Sam and Dean.
It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintances.
Now, just so you can put names to the faces that'll be eating you I'm Joyce, and this is my assistant George.
Wait.
You're the lady from the real estate signs.
Yes.
You like my photo? Ah, you might wanna lay off the whitening strips.
[CHUCKLES.]
JOYCE: Oh, Dean.
I am gonna enjoy picking you out of my teeth.
[GROWLS.]
[DEAN AND SAM GRUNTING.]
There's a bucket of that stuff you love throwing at us right there.
Dunk me before she sees.
[GRUNTING CONTINUES.]
The sword.
The sword! [GASPS.]
[SIGHS.]
Thanks.
[DEAN SIGHS.]
Okay, I get that these things mean business, you know but I can't just, like, uproot my life.
- Ah, sure, you can.
It's not as hard as you think.
Look, Scott, these big-mouths don't like to leave loose ends.
Don't look back until you get some place where you don't speak the language.
All right, I'm going.
Thank you, I guess.
SAM: Don't mention it.
One minute.
That's how long you have to explain to use why you helped us.
Because I am dying to know what that bitch tastes like.
Wait.
Let me get this straight.
You want to eat your boss? You got a better way to make her stay dead? SAM: So, what, so now you're on our side or something? Yeah.
No.
But if Joyce is alive then I spend the rest of my life cleaning her messes.
Or worse, I get eaten.
Or bibbed.
Ugh! So thanks for chopping her head off for me.
Taking her on solo? Yikes.
Heh.
So really, mm, thanks for the assist there.
And, of course, you're welcome.
For saving you.
Before she ripped into your ass like a Christmas present.
Tsk.
Win-win, right? So, uh, ahem, how about that head? Yeah, not gonna happen, Georgie.
Now, what the hell is Dick Roman building in Wisconsin? I don't know.
I barely know where Wisconsin is.
I'm a west-coast representative.
Gonna keep killing people who don't sign? All right, take it easy.
DEAN: Hmm.
- Killing people isn't part of the agenda.
Joyce just kept getting impatient.
You got nothing to worry about with me.
[CHUCKLES.]
Don't you get it? You guys are freaking about the wrong thing.
- Oh, you think? - Real estate deals? Come on.
Big picture, guys.
You think it's just here? It's everywhere.
And it's a lot more ambitious than this little project.
My advice, keep your heads down, and stay down.
Listen to me, you gooey son of a bitch you're gonna tell us what you're building here or I'm gonna wash your mouth out with soap.
Well, I was hoping we could play nice.
But if you must know it's going to be a research center.
- Research for what? Disease.
This, gentlemen, is where we are going to cure cancer.
Wait, that doesn't make any sense.
Heh.
I mean, why would Dick Roman wanna cure cancer? Because we're only here to help.
Ah, monsters cure cancer.
- A sentence I never thought I'd say.
- Heh.
Why does it make me so nervous? Yeah, I hear you.
So, what do we do now? - You're gonna sleep on it.
- Heh.
All the way to Frank's.
- Capiche? - I wish I could.
- Did you get any sleep last night? - Yeah, yeah.
A little.
I don't know.
We'll find you a soft rock station.
Always knocks you right out.
[CHUCKLES.]
[ENGINE REVS.]
[CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL'S "BAD MOON RISING" PLAYING IN DISTANCE.]
Don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise I hear hurricanes a-blowing Hey, Frank! [KNOCKING ON DOOR.]
Hey, Deveraux! What the hell is he doing in there? Frank! Don't shoot, we're coming in.
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise.
All right Not good.
There's a bad moon on the rise