Santa: “What would you like for Christmas?” Girl: “My own credit card.” - Brazil

Supernatural Quest
by Sylvia Bond
A Supernatural Episode Review, Season Three - Episode 15
“Time Is On My Side”

I am so glad I didn’t have my tattoo removed last week because then I would have had to have it replaced this week. That would have been hellish to go through and I would much rather enjoy watching Sam and Dean go through hell, which I did and then some because this week’s ep, I’ll just tell you up front, was Fabulous! It had everything. It had a creepy-chopped-up-almost-dead-guy, it had Bella getting her comeuppance (and her hair was combed for once), and the boys, well, the boys were amazing and made me realize all over again how much I adore them.

The ep starts with some terrific swirling camera work and a plastic surgeon that gets shoved into his own trunk by someone or something as yet unknown. He pounds on the interior ineffectually, without even having the smarts (in spite of a supposed degree) to realize that posh new cars, such as he has, come with a safety latch on the inside. Maybe he realized that would have ruined the plot so he forgets. Anyway, he shows up half dead in the hospital, and the nurse screams. Loudly. Then he dies to prove the situation is serious. Goodbye, victim of the week!

And without further ado, the boys entereth. I like it that Show gave them to me right up front without making me wait. (Because it’s all about me, isn’t it?) Waiting is difficult, especially when the boys are delightfully gritty and hard at work interrogating some poor schmuck who is tied to a chair. Dean and Sam want him to tell them which demon holds Dean’s contract. Ten points from the Russian judge and a thumbs up from me for this scene. The boys are desperate and mad and they don’t care what it takes. Dean throws holy water all over the guy, making skin sizzle and smoke rise. I loved the way the demon’s head was framed by flames, and the fact that in spite of the romantic stone fireplace, the cottage where Dean and Sam perform said interrogation has a rustic, dusty air that gave the impression that they were miles from anywhere. Someone was paying attention to details here, so way to go Show!

Possessed schmuck disses Dean’s mama. And Dean? He’s in the guy’s face, angry and dangerous, and oh, what a close-up it is. They’re doing something brilliant with the camera angles this week. Or maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was simply Ackles himself, getting inside the character’s skin the way he does, making me feel that he’s made of solid granite and could push right through the screen and stomp off into reality. Given his mood in this particular scene, I’d be getting the hell out of his way, I can tell you that for nothing. And Sam, my Sammy boy, is a pillar of ice, just waiting for his chance to get at the guy.

Favorite bit? Where stupid possessed guy refuses to give up the goods, and Dean jerks his chin at his brother and says, “Sam, start.” Sam starts reciting an exorcism in that way that he does, from memory. The confidence with which he does this makes me feel that he’s got two dozen other exorcisms just like it, all stacked up like airplanes ready to land. There’s a snap in his voice, and oh, how I love a learned man.

Soon after comes a scene I rather have a fondness for, where Dean walks in all sweaty and dirty. He’s just been burying the corpse of the ex-demon, you see, and Sam gives him a beer. This showed very well how ordinary grave digging has become for them, that one of them could handle the task while the other did research. Plus, give me a sweaty man drinking beer, and I am THERE. Then Dean and Sam dither, you know how they do. And I had to laugh - when Sam introduces the idea that there might be zombies at work, you can see Dean’s ears perk up like a horse that sees an apple. I had no idea Dean was a zombie fiend, but Sam knows, and I guess that’s what counts.

The boys show up in the local morgue in suits. I kind of miss the days when Sam and Dean would break into morgues, or bribe the attendant on duty to let them in, and examine stiffs in their jeans. (And NO, I don’t mean it like that.) Be that as it may, the boys are in rented suits, asking dumb questions and basically having a good time. Or as good as time as can be had seeing as how Dean only has weeks to live. (I like it that Show is not forgetting this essential fact; the continuity adds depth to every move the boys make.) The boys know what they’re doing, but the medical examiner, he thinks they’re a pair of idiots and can’t wait to be rid of them. Not everyone in the world falls prey to the boys’ charms, right, so it makes sense that someone would want them to just go away. Hey buddy, no problem. That just leaves more for the rest of us! (And the camera angles again are very interesting, done at a slant or from below to give the scene a slightly off-kilter feel.)

Then the boys are off to the hospital, looking very dapper, to talk to someone who survived the mysterious attacks. The man in the bed, the boys soon learn, is the embodiment of the urban legend that makes the rounds every decade or so. You know the one, where the guy wakes up in a bathtub of ice cubes with his liver gone. (It’s what Show does best, bringing these legends to life. They should do it more often, I’d say.) That shoots down the zombie theory, and even though he’s caught Sam in a lie, Dean’s okay with it because at least he’s got something to hunt.

The motel room in Erie was excellent. It looked old. The color scheme was an eyesore, the beds looked uncomfortable, and I really got a sense that this was a way station for Sam and Dean, like every motel is, rather than a place they can truly rest. Sam surfs the web for information and Dean chows down on a hamburger. It is here the maggots are first presented in a totally third grade, gross out way.

Sam starts talking about silk sutures and the Creepy Guy who is possibly responsible for the stolen body parts. It’s obvious that Sam’s trying to get to Dean, telling him the gory details, and all the while Dean is eating. Or attempting to. At one point, Sam is explaining why Creepy Guy likes to be by running water - it’s in order to dispose of intestines, bile, you see - and here Sam slows down for the full effect, “And fecal matter,” he says. Dean pauses, looks like he’s about to puke, and then says, “You know I never could stay mad at you, baby,” and continues eating. Now whether Dean was directing his comment at the burger or at Sam, I do not know, feel free to speculate. At the same time, this is pretty funny stuff, and it does what I like: It shows the brothers relaxed, teasing each other, and in their natural habitat, at home wherever they are because wherever they are with each other is home.

We get a little tidbit that shows us Creepy Guy (who looks like a pig lizard after it’s been sewn back together) at work, chopping the living heart out of a man’s chest. The surgery he performs is as bloody and oogy as you please; it’s because of this that the gross-out factor climbs the charts to a nice solid ten, again from the Russian judge. Cover your eyes kids, and don’t try this at home. (Of course I have to wonder how anyone, even Creepy Guy, could A) keep the heart alive long enough to transplant it, and B) how on earth do you sew something like that into your own chest? I’d be tempted to say A) with ice and B) with mirrors, but I didn’t see evidence of either, so I’ll just put it down to Creepy Guy being an incredibly talented surgeon.)

Then Bobby calls, and tells Dean he’s got a bead on Bella. Bobby is made of awesome, but then he always is. I loved the fact that Show gave us Bobby at work, in his salvage yard, walking around in greasy clothes, trying to do five things at once. This added some nice texture, and gave the story bulk and realism.

After this nice little conversation, Dean and Sam separate, but this time around, and I’m amazed to even say this, it made sense and I’ll tell you why. Dean and Sam are each trying to solve the problem using their best strengths. For Sam, what’s written on paper tells him to go after Creepy Guy. Dean, on the other hand, wants action; Bella will lead him to the Colt and thusly, to Salvation. Dean wants to use his brawn; Sam wants to use his brains. Not that Dean isn’t smart or Sam isn’t strong, but their desperation to save Dean reduces each of them to their strongest common denominators, which isn’t as dry as it sounds, oh no, on the contrary!

Sam is calm and restrained and is simply not going with Dean. He holds his body like the boy king that he is. You can see the stubborn jut to his chin and the flick of his eyes as he keeps the emo side of him at bay. This lovely sight is offset by Dean, who is as hard and flinty as stone, packing, going in spite of Sam, striking sparks from his boots as he walks out the door. They are utterly themselves in this scene, close enough emotionally to be apart physically. I particularly enjoyed Dean’s goodbye remark, a heartfelt, “Sammy, be careful.” He’s beautiful like this, when everything else that he wants to say but doesn’t shines through his eyes.

Dean visits Rufus Turner, an isolated, solitary hunter with a taste for Johnny Walker Blue. I think this was one of my favorite scenes for this ep, in spite of the introduction of a character I was sure was going to get whacked before the last set of commercials. Rufus had a way about him that, combined with his velvet voice and his audacity to call Dean “kid,” had me listening to him intently. I had a feeling he knew what Dean was about from the get go because his ability to create drama and then heighten that drama by flapping Bella’s folder in front of Dean had all the earmarks of a master storyteller. And Dean, as well, was adorable when riveted like that, taking in the knowledge that Rufus is giving him. (That they’re both half-drunk by this time adds to the charm. Plus Rufus called Bella a “skinny, stuck up, English girl.” You GO, Rufus!)

And it was interesting what Rufus had to say as well, that all of Dean’s hard work and sacrifice will not result in a happy ending for him. According to Rufus, the job will turn Dean into an embittered, suspicious, and lonely man, just like Rufus is. Well, if the other option is to burn in hell, I think that Dean would happily pick door number two. There are worse things and he knows it. As Dean listens, the camera focuses on him. The lighting is perfect, the camera angle sublime. Dean is scruffy, like he forgot to shave that morning, or maybe for the past two mornings. His skin has the healthy tone of a man who gets buffed by digging graves at all hours of the night. His mouth has just a touch of raspberry, and somehow, someone normally beautiful turns into something so stunning and alive and I just know that Dean’s going to make it. You can’t destroy something that bright.

Sam, meanwhile, is tracking down Creepy Guy. While I can commend his desire to follow the paper trail, I can’t follow his logic. Can’t he see how crazy this is? First, Sam assumes that if Dean is immortal, then he can’t go to hell because he can’t die. This doesn’t make sense, because, far as I can recollect, demons don’t come for a human’s soul after they are dead, they come for them while they are alive and terrified. In Crossroads Blues, all the victims were alive when the hellhounds came. The Dad, in As I Lay Dying, was alive when his soul was taken. To make the conclusion that Sam does is pretty desperate. Second, if Sam were successful, Dean would be immortal, but along the way he’d have to hack up living people in order to keep going, which is something Dean would never do. (Sam Winchester, I believe you need to think this through again. See me after school, young man.)

On the other hand, Sam is sensible this time around and rents a big SUV, which is big enough for his gorgeous tall frame and which he drives with much aplomb. Sam looks like he has car lust. Watch him as he gets out of the car and uses the little thingy to lock all the doors. He takes his time doing this, almost smiling as if pleased with himself and his clever choice of auto, and strains of “I’m In Love With My Car,” by Queen float across my brain. (Dean better not get wind of this, or he’ll be pissed that Sam’s a traitor to the Impala!)

Next, Sam enters the dusty, dark, surely-something-bad-happened-here, mostly deserted house, flashlight in hand. (This sight feels as comfortable to me as a pot-bellied stove on a frosty morning.) Along the way, Sam discovers a female victim in Creepy Guy’s basement, so it’s Sam to the rescue, and what a happy sight it is. The woman is tied up and has maggots crawling all over her arm. (See? More maggots!) It’s gross. Show gives us an extra special long look at them as they eat through the nasty, putrid flesh on the woman’s arm. (Sam’s grimace of disgust echoes my own.)

Then I’m treated to the sight of Sam leaning tenderly over her, covering her silly mouth with his manly hand, and then, as Creepy Guy approaches, manfully carrying her out of there. (And you just know, don’t you, that if it was a guy he was rescuing? There wouldn’t be any tender touching and carrying. No, the guy victim would manfully walk out under his own steam, perhaps with some manful aid from Sam, but nothing more than that.) That Sam can run, and carry her, AND unlock the SUV’s doors with the little thingy all at once is an arresting sight. Plus, he’s so durn determined to get the heckfire out of there, stepping on the gas with that demonic snarl of his, hair in his eyes. Yes, Creepy Guy tries to bash his head in, but when Sam looks like that and has that expression? You’re just lucky running you over is all he does to you.

As for Dean, when he finds Bella, it’s not pretty. The two of them are a nasty combination; the disgust and hatred just rolls off of Dean. (Him turning on the light switches with his gun was totally James Bond.) Bella, on the other hand, is pathetic and made even more so by a sudden flashback that shows us bad things. But Dean, thank goodness, doesn’t display Bella any mercy or kindness, nor is he taken in by her pitiful demeanor or her attempts to explain. He just doesn’t care, and at this point, that’s exactly as it should be. He prepares to shoot her. Sure, I’d have liked for him to off her long ago, but now will do just fine. Except he doesn’t, and while normally I’d be screaming at the TV for him to DO IT, the fact that he doesn’t makes sense. His whole “you’re not worth it” is a testament to Dean’s character. He’s not a cold-blooded killer, and never will be. Thusly she lives. (But not for long, says I with glee!)

As Dean drives back to the motel, he and brother Sam chat on the cell phone, like they do. Dean talks about Bella and the fact that he’s screwed; Sam, going through his notes at the motel, waxes poetic about Creepy Guy. At the same time, Sam apparently left his door unlocked, either that or Creepy Guy knows how to break to a room so silently that Sam is taken completely unawares and is kidnapped. Gosh, Sammy, you KNEW Creepy Guy wasn’t dead, and yet you turned your back on him? Do you even watch the show? You obviously don’t, because if you did, you’d know how it works.

In spite of Sam’s lack of awareness, I am pleased. Sam is tied up AND about to be tortured so it must be SUPER Thursday! Honestly, with that ginormous brain of his I’m not sure how he gets himself into these messes, but he manages it. (Plus, Padalecki must be so familiar with assuming the appropriate postures for torture because he does it so well!) There’s a bit of exposition here, and I love the fact that Creepy Guy has met The Dad, for The Dad, you see, once cut his heart out. This adds texture to the story arc, because it tells us that the boys’ path has overlapped The Dad’s on more than one occasion. This is a big country, but after all, it’s a small, small world, so this makes sense.

What’s even more interesting is that The Dad failed to put Creepy Guy completely out of commission. We’ve seen other events like this, where years later Dean (and Sam) are able to do something, or complete a gig, that The Dad wasn’t able to. Now, don’t get me wrong, I still think that The Dad is the best hunter in the world, but I’ve been looking at him through his boys’ eyes for a while now, and his silhouette loomed large upon the horizon, an imposing, unapproachable figure. His (very few) mistakes make him more interesting and, dare I say it, more human.

Meanwhile, Creepy Guy has got Sam’s eyes propped open with surgical tape. This is about as nasty as it gets. And shades of House of Wax! Except this time around, instead of the character’s eyes being the only thing left intact, they’re the first things to go. Creepy Guy goes at them with what looks like a little melon ball scoop that he heats over an open blue flame. I’m a crawling mess on the arm of my couch, screaming at the TV, “No, NO, don’t take Sammy’s beautiful eyes!!” Cause you know Show, it’s mean, it hates us, and it would DO it, this horrible thing, just to add some edginess to this episode. Luckily big brother arrives, guns ablazing and so Sam’s eyes are saved.

Dean’s bullets are ineffectual, however, so then there is the Throwing of the Dean as he gets flung by Creepy Guy (who is extraordinarily strong seeing as how he’s made up of sewn-together rotting parts and old silk thread). This stuns Dean for a moment, but only a moment. (It makes me wonder though, why do I love it to see Dean tossed about like this, where he gets up rather dazed and stumbling. It’s a weird kind of love, you know?) Dizzy and heroically reeling, Dean shoves a knife into Creepy Guy’s side. Creepy Guy, now pumped full of chloroform (that Dean oh-so-handily and oh-a-tad-too-easily smeared on the blade) collapses under his own wrinkly weight.

Then Dean and Sam, back together again (YEAH!) discuss what must be done with Creepy Guy. Creepy Guy, he’s a snake oil salesman for sure, promises Dean that the formula can help him. Watch Sam twitch as he hears this; he still believes that anything that buys them time is worth living forever looking like a bad patchwork job. Dean, though, yeah. He’s my boy. He knows that living like Creepy Guy, even if it means more years with Sam, isn’t worth it if other people have to suffer for it. (Besides the fact that he doesn’t want to mess with the Deal and risk Sam dying.) Dean refuses immortality and with one brave, hard, determined motion (cause he’s a man of action like that), he covers Creepy Guy’s mouth with a rag soaked in chloroform.

Here’s my second favorite scene, and it reeks wonderfully of the Twilight Zone because the boys bury Creepy Guys alive in an old fridge. The fridge is wrapped in chains and rests at the bottom of a hole that looks to be about eight feet deep instead of the requisite six, and just about as wide. (This must have taken the boys HOURS to dig out!) Creepy Guy’s red notebook rests atop the chains and Sam looks at it longingly. The camera angle changes to give us all perspectives, and I appreciate that Show took the time to give us all of that, including the one from-a-distance shot that shows us just how strange Sam and Dean would appear to outsiders. (I mean, at that time of night? In a graveyard? You’d be calling the cops!)

In the next scene, Bella arrives at the motel, pulls out a pistol, and shoots at the beds that Sam and Dean normally occupy. This is so like her, and the boys were quite prepared for it. They used blow-up sex dolls in place of their own bodies, and it seemed appropriate that the one doll had dark curly hair and bright red lingerie, while the other doll had sandy hair and blue lingerie. (Can you imagine boys picking these dolls out? Another hysterical yet unfilmed scene!) Then the phone rings, and Bella picks it up. It is the boys. How did they know when to call? They can’t be parked outside the window because when the camera cuts to them, they are in motion in the car. I see the plot hole, yes I do, but this ep has been so fantastic thus far, I just let it go, like dust in the wind.

During Dean’s chat with Bella, we learn that what Dean suspected was right: Bella once made a deal with the crossroad demon and her ten years are just about up. We also learn that it is Lilith who holds Dean’s contract; it seems at last Bella has proven herself useful after making me suffer through all those eps she was in.

Bella, Bella, Bella, how I have hated thee. From the arrival of this character, I’ve been at odds with Show’s decision to include her. She was a nasty piece of work that somehow managed to flamboozle Sam and Dean over and over and over. She made the boys appear stupid and ineffectual, and seemed harmless enough to them so that every time they encountered her, she was able to best them again. And again. And then one more time after that. This made the boys appear silly and not as smart as I know them to be; if it was done for laughs it wasn’t done very well, so I’m glad to see her go.

We were given her sad little history in this ep, and I know it was supposed to make me feel sorry for her and understand her to the point where I could forgive her her idiocies. The poor lass, apparently, was born to horrid parents, and suffered muchly, including, it seems, some inappropriate intimacy of the non-consensual type from her father. That’s just nasty. But I’ve known (alas) plenty who have suffered worse and didn’t turn to a red-eyed demon in the shape of a pint-sized English schoolgirl to solve their problems. That Bella felt this was her only option bespeaks of limited brain capacity. What’s wrong with just running away, then? Or turning to the English version of CPS?

To the actress’s credit, I actually enjoyed Bella in the last scene because as she sobs into the phone her humanity peeked out. I still didn’t feel sorry for her, but for one brief shining moment, I got a real sense of the character, how multi-faceted she could have been had she been handled correctly. So kudos to Lauren Cohan for making me despise a character utterly, while still having that last minute of understanding.

In the end, Bella is sobbing on the phone to Dean, a red-faced and a miserable heap on the bed. I’ll see you in hell, he tells her, which for once, oddly enough, is not just an expression. Then the hellhounds come for her, and I am glad, because, you know, it’s the simple things in life you treasure.

Sylvia Bond is a ten-year technical writing veteran with too many degrees under her belt to count. She lives in Colorado, but does not ski, preferring instead to spend her money and time at the annual Great American Beer Festival, taking road trips across the United States, and reading historical fiction from the comfort of her fluffy green arm chair. She has been involved in fandom since 1993 and been writing fanfic since approximately 1993. What she finds most amazing about fandom (besides the open heartedness of fans and the sheer amount of creativity) is how visible fandom has become. “In my day,” she says, “we had to hide behind P.O. boxes to get fanfic. But nowadays, people wear t-shirts that shout their affiliation and share their shiny toys on the internet.” It’s a wonderful world.

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