Directed by: James L. Conway
An unfamiliar Dean gets ready for work – making a latte, driving a Prius. He is the Manger of Sales and Marketing at Sandover Bridge and Iron.
Dean:: (on phone) All I want to know is, when are they gonna have another show like "Project Runway"? (laughs)
Dean: (on phone) Net profitability aside, it's the client-retention rate that concerns me, maximizing return on sales. Buzz me back once you've seen the spreadsheets. [hangs up phone] Mr. Adler.
Mr. Adler: Dean. Good stuff.
Dean: Good stuff?
Mr. Adler: Big things. Good stuff.
Dean: Good stuff.
Dean: (on phone)Oh, I hear you. I haven't been to the gym in ages. Carrying a little bloat around myself. Yeah, it's a sedentary lifestyle, my man. No two ways. All right, tell me one more time. You said, uh, lemon and ... what was it? Cayenne and maple syrup. Are you serious? How much did you lose?
Sam (dressed in uniform of polo shirt and slacks): Do I know you?
Dean: I don't think so.
Sam: I'm sorry, man. You just look really familiar.
Dean: Save it for the health club, pal.
Cubicle. Tech Support.
Sam: Tech support. This is Sam Wesson. Okay. Uh, well, did you try turning it off and then on? Okay, go ahead and turn it off. No, no, no, no. Just , just off. All right, give it a second. Turn it back on. Okay, is it printing now? Great. Anytime.
Ian: What do you think of, uh, Mimi?
Sam: She's okay.
Ian: Might have to hit that.
Sam: Oh, dude, that's totally age-inappropriate.
Sam: Uh, trifocals.
Ian: There's a MILFthere, Sam. I just know it. Maybe a GMILF.
Sam: Come on.
Ian: Coffee break?
Sam: Yeah, for sure.
Ian: Paul, time for a refuel, buddy.
Paul: Sorry. No time.
Ian: Since when? Dude, we get paid by the hour.
Sam: He seems stressed.
Ian: Probably just freaked 'cause he got busted surfing porn on the internet.
Sam: No, no, no. Wait. When?
Ian: He got sent up to HR [yesterday. Guess they put the fear of god in him.
Sam: Ian! Dude!
Ian: Just doing a little shopping. Running low at home. So, Sam, had any of those dreams lately? (off Sam's look) What? Don't be like that. Come on. It's the highlight of my day.
Sam: I never should have told you in the first place.
Ian: They're genius! Don't hold out on me, dude. Share with the class.
Sam: You're just gonna be a dick about it.
Ian: What?! No way! I won't say a word. Total respect. Go.
Sam: I dreamt that I saved a grim reaper named Tessa from demons.
Ian: Classic! How much D&D did you play when you were a kid? Oh, my. Okay, so you're rescuing the grim reaper. You're a hero. I mean, thank god we got Harry Potter here to save us all from the apocalypse.
Sam: Can I ask you a question?
Dean: Look, man, I told you, I'm not into the ...
Sam: Oh, dude, come on. I'm not either. I just want to ask you one question.
Sam: What do you think about ghosts?
Sam: Do you believe in them?
Dean: Uh, tell you the truth, I've never given it much thought.
Dean: What? Why?
Sam: 'Cause I've been having some... weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?
Dean: No, not really.
Sam: So... you've never had any... weird dreams?
Dean: All right, look, man, uh... I don't know you, okay? But I'm gonna do a public service and, uh, let you know that ... that you over-share.
Sam: Did you turn it off, then on? All right, well, let's try that. No, no, it's fine. I'll wait. Is it printing now? Oh, that's great. Anytime.
Ian: What are you doing?
Ian: You get an e-mail from human resources?
Sam: No. Why?
Ian: Damn it. Guess it's just me, then. I'm supposed to, quote, report to H.R. unquote.
Sam: Well, they're probably finally busting you for snaking all those office supplies.
Ian: I hope they spank me.
Paul: No, no, no, no, no, no. Come on! Don't do this to me. Please!
Sam: Hey, man. You okay?
Paul: It froze.
Sam: They're crap, Paul. They freeze all the time.
Paul: You don't understand. When ... when I rebooted, everything was gone. A whole day's work ... deleted.
Sam: Well, did you back up?
Paul: No, I didn't back up. I wish to god I backed up, but I didn't. I'll get it back. I'll find it. It's somewhere. Find it!
Sam: Paul, it's okay, man. These things happen.
Tech Support. Night.
Paul: Come on! Come on! Come on! Come on! Please! Please! All that work... gone. Failed.
(Paul goes into the staff room and microwaves himself to death.)
Tech Support. Day.
Dean: Something about this seem not right to you?
Businessman: Uh, yeah. Try the whole thing. I'm telling you, man... I'll never eat popcorn again.
Dean: Yeah, right.
Dean: Two weeks?
Sam: Hey, why would someone kill themselves two weeks before they were supposed to retire? I mean, Paul was two weeks from freedom. He should have been... happy, right?
Ian: I don't have time for this, am.
Sam: That's very funny. What's with you?
Ian: I'm working. It's important.
Sam: H.R. bust your balls or something? You're wearing the shirt. Did you shave?
Ian: [answers phone]Tech support. This is Ian. Be right up. [to Sam] I have to go up to 22, speak to a manager.
Dean: Hi. Ian is it? Yeah, come on in. Yesterday, you filled out a 445-T. And, no problem, just a ... just a few errors. I mean, we did just switch over to Vista, so I'm sure the dash-R's, am I right?
Ian: Oh, no.
Dean: No, no, no. It's fine. It's fine. I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with the invoicing.
Ian: Oh, my god.
Dean: No, it's fine. Just re-file it, and we're square.
Ian: I can't believe I did this. I can't ... I can't believe it. I... can't believe I did this.
Dean: Hey, guy, come on ...
Ian: No, no. It affected profits. It ... I screwed up. I can't ... I can't ... I am so sorry. How could I do that? I failed Sandover. I failed the company.
Dean: Uh, why don't you sit down, Ian?
Ian: No. (leaves)
Dean: Ian. Ian! Hey! (follows Ian to bathroom) Ian, hey. Just chill out, man. Okay? Hey, maybe we should get out of here, huh? Come on. Ian. Look at me.
Ian suddenly stabs himself in the neck with a pencil. He collapses to the floor. Dean: Somebody help me!
Dean: I, uh, I followed him into the bathroom. He was, uh... he was standing there in front of the mirror, and then ... [he is distracted by sharing a look with Sam]... and, uh, he stabbed himself in the neck. I'm sorry. That's, uh...
Sam: Tech support. This is Sam.
Dean: (over the phone) I need to see you in my office ... now.
Dean: Come on in. Shut the door. Who the hell are you?
Sam: I'm not sure I know.
Dean: What the hell does that mean?
Sam: Sam Wesson. I started here three weeks ago.
Dean: All right. You cornered me in the elevator, talking about ghosts. And now...
Sam: Now what?
Dean: Now nothing. I, uh... So, you started working here three weeks ago, huh? Me too. It's, uh, the master cleanse. You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody's business.
Sam: When you were in that bathroom with Ian... did you see something?
Dean: I don't know. I don't know what I saw.
Sam: Wait. Are you saying that ... did you... see a ghost?
Dean: I was freaking out. The guy penciled his damn neck.
Sam: You did, didn't you? Okay, listen ... what if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if there's something not natural?
Dean: So, what? Ghosts are real? And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?
Sam: Look,I know it sounds crazy. But yes ... that's what I'm telling you.
Dean: Based on what?
Dean: I've got the same instinct.
Sam: Seriously? You know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts.
Sam: And then it turns out that there's a real ghost.
Dean: So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?
Sam: No. I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying, something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So I've been digging around a little. I think I found a connection between the two guys. [places two sheets of paper in front of Dean]
Dean: You broke into their e-mail accounts?
Sam: I used... some skills that I happen to have to... satisfy my curiosity.
Sam: Yeah, okay. So, it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same e-mail telling them to report to H.R., room 1444.
Dean: H.R.'s on seven.
Dean: Should we go check this out?
Sam: Like... right now?
Dean: No. No, it's getting late. You're right.
Sam: I am dying to check this out right now.
Tech Support Employee: Hello? Hello?
Ghost attacks the man, Dean swipes the ghost with an iron wrench and it disappears.
Sam: How'd you know how to do that?
Dean: I have no idea.
Dean: Holy crap, dude.
Sam: Yeah. I could use a beer.
Dean: Oh, sorry, man. I'm on the cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house.
Sam: Hey, how the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?
Dean: Crazy, right? And nice job kicking in that door, too. That was very Jet Li. What are you ... like, a black belt or something?
Sam: No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like... we've done this before.
Dean: What do you mean, "before"? Like "Shirley McLain" before?
Sam: No. I just can't shake this feeling like i ... like i don't belong here, you know what i mean? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle.
Dean: I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way.
Sam: No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like ... like I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I ... I don't know how else to explain it, except that... it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just... something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you? You ever feel that way?
Dean: I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though.
Sam: All right. So, what do we do now?
Dean: We do what I do best, Sammy: Research.
Sam: Okay. Did you just call me "Sammy"?
Dean: Did I?
Sam: I think you did. Yeah. Don't.
Dean’s apartment. Later
Dean: Oh, jackpot!
Sam: What you got?
Dean: I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters. These guys are genius. Check it out.
Sam: Instructional videos?
Cut to Ghostfacers video
Ed: We know why you're watching.
Harry: You've got a problem.
Ed: A ghost problem.
Harry: A ghost-related problem. A ghost.. it's like a ghost-adjacent...it's like a problem, and the ghost...
Ed: Whatever. Well, you've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it.
Ed: Watch and learn.
Harry: See, the first step in any supernatural fight...
Both: Figure out what you're up against.
Dean: That's him. That's the ghost.
Sam: P.T. Sandover ... died 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids. Used to say he was the company and his very blood pumped through the building.
Dean: Wow. Okay. So, slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company ... even killing for it.
Sam: Plus, turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929.
Dean: Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off of lots of high-rises that year.
Sam: How many companies had 17 suicides?
Dean: Okay, so, P.T. Sandover ... protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress.
Sam: Well, I mean, the worst time we've seen since the great depression...
Dean: Is now. Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even want to talk about it.
Sam: So, Sandover's helping the bottom line...
Dean: By zapping some model employees.
Sam: Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul ... it was like he turned them into different people.
Dean: Perfect worker bees ... exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it.
Sam: One more interesting fact: the building wasn't always that high. Used to be 14 floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, 1444 ... once upon a time, that was the old man's office.
Cut to Ghostfacers' Video
Harry: Once you've got that thing in your sights...
Both: You kill it!
Harry: Using special ghost-hunting weapons.
Ed: First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts.
Harry: Burny acid.
Ed: Not LSD.
Harry: No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up ... iron.
Sam: That's why the wrench worked.
Ed: Pure power in your hand ...
Harry: Dissipates ghosts instantly.
Ed: Next little trick ... we learned this from those useless douche bags...
Harry: ...that we hate...
Ed: ... the Winchesters.
Ed: Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt.
Harry: Very effective.
Ed: Very effective.
Harry: Winchesters still suck ass, though.
Ed: Affirmative. Suckage ... major.
Dean: Where do we even get a gun?
Sam: Gun store?
Dean: Isn't there, like, some kind of waiting period or something?
Sam: I think so.
Dean: Then how in the hell?
Sam: I don't know, man. It seems pretty impossible, honestly.
Cut to Ghostfacers' Video
Ed: The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douche-nozzles also taught us this one other thing.
Harry: You have to burn the remains. Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes... you might have to... dig up the body. Sorry.
Ed: It's illegal in some states.
Harry: All states.
Ed: Possibly all states.
Sam: Sandover was cremated.
Dean: What? So, what do we do now?
Cut to Ghostfacers' Video
Harry: Now, if the deceased has been cremated...
Ed: ...don't panic.
Harry: Don't panic.
Ed: You just got to look for some other remains.
Harry: Hair in a locket, maybe, fingernails, baby teeth ...
Ed: Milk teeth.
Harry: Genetic material. You know what we're talking about.
Ed: Go find it.
Harry: Fight well, young lions.
Dean: Set your cell phone to walkie-talkie in case we get separated.
Sam: How the hell are we gonna find some ancient speck of DNA in a skyscraper?
Dean: Well, that creepy storeroom used to be Sandover's office, right?
Security guard: [finds Sam rifling through desk] What the hell are you doing here?
Sam: Uh... nothing. I just ...
Security Guard: Come with me.
Sam: Man, listen ... it's okay. I work here.
SG: Whatever. Tell it to the cops.
[SG leads Sam from the room. Dean watches from behind a shelf.]
[SG and Sam are in elevator. Elevator stops between floors. SG opens the doors and moves to climb out]
SG: Well, come on.
SG: Last time this happened, it took them two hours to get here.
Sam: Let's just wait.
Sam: Seriously, I'll wait.
SG: Look, I don't have the rest of my life to—
Elevator starts and Security Guard is killed
Dean: (over phone) Hey. You okay?
Sam: Call you back.
Tech Support. Night.
Sam: Dean? You there?
Dean: Yeah. Listen, I think I got it. Meet me on 22.
Sam: Okay. Yeah. Just, uh... take the stairs.
22nd floor hallway
Dean: Woah. That's a lot of blood.
Sam: Yeah, I know.
Dean: Right. So, uh, in there. [gestures to a glass case in the wall]
Sam: P.T. Sandover's gloves.
Dean: Yeah. How much you want to bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two. Something.
Sam: So, you ready?
Dean: I have no idea.
Sam: Me neither. Go for it.
(Ghost appears, throws them both, Sam throws salt at it)
Sam: Dean! (tosses iron poker to Dean who whacks ghost with it) Nice catch.
[The fight continues until the ghost throws Dean against the wall. He is about to touch Dean when Sam burns the gloves and the ghost disappears)
Sam: That was amazing!
Dean: Right? Right?!
Dean: Man, I got to tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life.
Sam: Me neither.
Dean: It was a hell of a workout, too, wasn't it?
Sam: We should keep doing this.
Dean: I know.
Sam: I mean it. There’ve got to be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people.
Dean: Yeah, right. We'd be like the Ghostfacers.
Sam: No, really. I mean... for real.
Dean: What? Quit our jobs and hit the road?
Dean: How would we live? Come on. You got to be kidding me. How would we get by ... with stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?
Sam: That's all just details.
Dean: Details are everything! You don't want to go fighting ghosts without any health insurance.
Sam: All right. Uh... confession.
Sam: Remember those dreams I told you about, with the ghosts?
Sam: I was fighting them.
Sam: With you. We were these, like... hunters. And we were friends. More like brothers, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?
Dean: That's insane.
Sam: Is it? Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life but it's not?
Dean: Hey, man, the ghost is dead, and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but
Sam: Look, all I know is, this isn't who we're supposed to be.
Dean: No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of sales and marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo.
Sam: When's the last time you talked to them? To any of them?
Dean: Okay. You're upset. You're upset, you're confused ...
Sam: Yeah, 'cause I only moved here 'cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital.
Dean: Okay, what are you saying? You trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on!
Sam: All I know is, I’ve got this feeling in my gut. And I know that deep down, you’ve got to be feeling it, too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douche bag. This isn't you. I know you.
Dean: Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go.
Sam is back at his cubicle, phone ringing. After a moment he smashes the phone
Sam: I quit.
Mr Adler enters
Mr. Adler: Got a minute?
Dean: Sure. Of course.
Mr. Adler: How are you feeling, Dean?
Dean: Uh... great.
Mr. Adler: You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather. Ah, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing. That's why it's important to me that you're happy. (Mr Alder writes a number on a piece of paper) How's that for a bonus?
Dean: That’s very generous.
Mr. Adler : Purely selfish. I want to make sure you're not going anywhere.
Dean: Are you sure?
Mr. Adler : Positive. You are Sandover material, son ... real go-getter, carving your own way.
Dean: Well, thanks. I try.
Mr. Adler : I see big things in your future. Maybe even Senior V.P., Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong. You'll have to work for it ... seven days a week, lunch at your desk but in 8 to 10 short years, that could be you.
Dean: Uh, well, thank you. Thank you, sir. It's, um... but I am giving my notice.
Mr. Adler : This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?
Dean: No, I recently , very recently,realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's, very important to me.
Mr. Adler : Other work? Another company?
Dean: No, It's hard to explain. It's just that this... this is, it's just... It's not who I'm supposed to be. What?
Mr. Adler : Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally. ( He reaches across the desk and touches Dean on the forehead)
Dean: What the hell? Why am I wearing a tie? My god, am I hungry.
Mr. Adler : Welcome back.
Dean: Wait. Did I - did I just get touched by ... You're an angel, aren't you?
Mr. Adler : I'm Zachariah.
Dean: Oh, great. That's all I need, is another one of you guys.
Zachariah: I'm hardly "another one" Dean. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here and into one of these smelly things. But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit - get my ducks in a row.
Dean: I am not one of your ducks.
Zachariah: Starting with your attitude.
Dean: Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Well, very creative.
Zachariah: You should see my decoupage.
Dean: Gross. No, thank you. So, what, I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?
Zachariah: Not at all. Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories. Just to shake things up? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass-clowns in monkey suits?
Zachariah: To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you. Not because God called you back from Hell. But because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time, and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here, you're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it.
Dean: Stop what? The apocalypse, huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man!
Zachariah: You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it. But I know, I know. [mocking him] You're not strong enough. You're scared. You’ve got daddy issues. You can't do it, right?
Dean: Angel or not, I will stab you in your face.
Zachariah: All I'm saying is - it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things, save people. Maybe even the world. All the while, you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse - it's a gift. So, for god's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So, you with me? You want to go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?
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