Got the blues? Well, unless it is because you sold your soul to a demon for all eternity in exchange for ten years of wish and now hellhounds are enroute to collect, you ain’t got as much blues as these folks. In defending one poor deal-maker, Dean learns more of John’s deal for his life, something he long suspected but now is confirmed.

Allie rejoins our usual gang for the following discoveries:

Real life monsters hate the smell of pancakes.

Roller rinks may have carried less insurance in the past.

John is full of something else…

Mmmm, steak.

If it looks like Mom, and smells like Mom, it’s Mom.

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