All language subtitles for Supernatural.S05E07.BRRip.x264-ION10

Hey, babe.

Nice to see you too.

Honey?

Are you okay?

No!

You expect me to believe you're CDC?

- Excuse me?
Just that you're a day early.

First time I haven't sat on my ass
waiting for you people.

New administration.
A change you can believe in.

Right.

Meet Xavier.

Date of birth: April 3rd, 1984.

I know. I ran the DNA twice.

That's definitely him.

Well, he wasn't big on the sunscreen,
huh?

So, what's your theory?

All I know is, decedent's male,
25 years old, and he died of old age.

You were right about this one.
It's definitely a job.

Thought so.

Any other stiffs in town?

No, just the one body.

Anything else?

Couple missing persons.
Usual for a town this size.

Well, check them out.

You think they're connected?

- Call it a hunch.
- You got it.

And by the way, how are you doing?

- Doing?
- Yeah.

You know, just in general.

Oh, you mean my legs.

Well, I'm just weeping
in my H�agen-Dazs, idiot.

That's the most recent.

How long has he been missing?

I knew right away when he didn't
come home Tuesday night.

Is there someplace he likes to go?

After work, maybe? A favorite bar?

No.
Tuesdays, he always works a bit late...

...but he always comes straight home.

May I use your facilities, ma'am?

Working late, my ass.

At least he's consistent.
Same room every Tuesday.

Hourly rates.

Hope I got that kind of kick
when I'm his age.

Yeah.
Like either of us will live that long.

True.

So, what do you think's in there?

Wrinkly, gooey corpse.

Oh, my God. Oh, God.

Hey. What the-?

Oh.
- God.

It's gooey.

Sorry.

- Got the wrong room.
- Close the door.

Hey.

Nice tattoo.

Happen to know anybody
named Cliff Whitlow?

- Never heard of him.
- That's weird...

...because you're carrying his wallet.

Huh.

Your wife told us
about your birthmark there. That's nice.

Well, you look great, Cliff.
Did you get some work done?

Could you give us some privacy?

Thanks. Take care. Thanks.

- Please don't tell my wife.
Slow down.

As far as she knows, I'm dead.
Let's keep it that way.

- How can you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?
- I can't tell you.

- Either you tell us or we tell the missus.
- Okay!

It was a game.

Like Xbox?

What's Xbox?

No. Poker. High stakes.

Instead of cash, you play for years.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- I know it sounds crazy.

Guy comes up to me at a bar,
invites me to play.

Gives me 25
of these weirdo poker chips, right?

Chants some mumbo humbo over them,
says now they're 25 years.

I'm laughing,
but then I come out up...

- ... and look at me.
- What was he chanting?

How should I know? All I know is, my
hip's good, I threw away my glasses...

...one of those ladies was here for free.
Man's some miracle worker.

- What does this miracle worker look like?
- Just a guy.

Maybe 35, brown hair. Irish accent.
His name was Patrick.

- Where's this game at?
He likes to keep moving.

Never stays in one bar long,
and he finds you.

Thank you, Cliff.

All right.

Oh, and, uh...

...stay classy.

That sounds crazy, right?
No, there's lore on it.

Goes back centuries.

Traveling card player, pops into town.
Beat him, you get your best years back.

Of course, most folks lose.

That would explain
the crunchy corpse.

Supposedly this player's a hell of a card
shark, got a lot of years in the bank.

Find the bar he's working in?

A lot of dives in town.
We have to split up.

Well, why you still talking to me?

Find anything?
- Yeah, a whole bunch of squat. You?

No, not a thing.

All right, well, you come up dry,
circle back to the motel in 2.

Your turn to grab dinner.

- Usual?
- Extra bacon.

- Can I get a beer?
- Yep.

You wouldn't happen to know of a poker
game going on in back, would you?

It's a bar, not a casino.

My friend Ben told me you'd know.

- Don't know any Ben.
- Sure you do.

You know, balding, smart-ass,
real ladies' man?

Listen, pal, I told you,
I don't know any Ben.

I don't know nothing about a game.

You sure?

Because he sure seems to know you.

Round back, take the elevator down.

Bobby?

- What are you doing here?
- Planting daisies. What's it look like?

Came in on the case.

And you beat me here?

Brains trumps legs, apparently.

- So you found the game?
- Yup.

Did you stop it?

Bobby?

Not exactly.

What did you do?

I played, okay?

And?

I lost.

Are you kidding me?

You played some he-witch?

Don't you take that tone with me.

- You idiot.
- They're my years, I can do what I want.

How many did you lose?

Twenty-five.

We're not done.

You're saying
that you're a mind reader?

Oh, come on, no such thing...

...but I can read people.

Take your lovely companion here.

I'd say judging from her exquisite
posture, she used to be a dancer.

Not much of a drinker...

...very independent...

...looking for adventure.

Hey, man.

Excuse me.

Can I borrow you for a sec?

Oh, yeah. Of course, great.
Good to see you.

Would you two please excuse me?

Sorry to cut you short with
Mr. and Mrs. Easy-Marks over there.

Oh, no big. Wasn't a total loss.

Look, I don't know what it is you think
I did to your wife or girlfriend...

...mother or sister...

...but I just want you to know
my feelings were real.

That ain't my problem, man-witch.
You owe my friend some years.

Oh, that's what this is.

I'm sorry, he lost. Them's the breaks.

Well, then un-lose him.

Oh, go ahead and shoot me,
if it makes you feel better.

Besides, I could use a good,
you know, tickle.

You want years? Great.

- Play me for them.
- Fine.

Dean, no.

They're my years,
I can do what I want.

Lozenge?

What? It's barely linty.

- Okay, suit yourself. Just trying to help.
- All right, all right.

Come on. Let's do this.

You understand the terms?

Buy-in's 25 years.

Make it 50.

I like the cut of your jib.

Twenty-five.

That's 25 years.

They go to him.

- He's cashing out.
- Dean.

Bobby.

- You sure?
- Yes.

That's 25 years you just pissed away.

Better be sure you can win them back.

Shuffle up and deal.

This is gonna be fun.

Hey, Dean?

You find anything?

Oh, you might say that.

Who the hell are you?

Dude, relax.

It's me.

Dean?

Hi.

What the hell happened?

I, you know, found the game.

You- I thought you said
you were good at poker.

I am. Shut up.

So you were just gonna shoot
some old guy? Is that it?

I didn't know what you were.
Have you seen you? You look like-

The old chick in Titanic,
I know, shut up.

I was gonna say Emperor Palpatine.

I see you met John McCain there.

Yeah. Either of you wanna tell me
what happened?

Bobby's an idiot, that's what happened.

- Hey, nobody asked you to play.
- Right, I should have just let you die.

- Nobody asked you to lose.
- It's like Grumpy Old Men.

- Shut up, Sam.
- Shut up, Sam.

What the hell were you thinking?
He's a witch.

He's been playing poker
since guys wore tights.

- You just don't get it.
- Yeah, I get it, Bobby.

You saw a chance to turn the hands
of the clock back, get out of that chair.

Pretty tempting.

- I can imagine.
- No, you can't.

You got me.

I never been paralyzed.
But I'll tell you something.

I've been to hell. There's an archangel
there wanting me to drop the soap.

Look at me.
My junk's rustier than yours.

- You hear me bellyaching, huh?
- Actually, yeah.

I'm having a heart attack.

No, you're not.

- What is it?
- Acid reflux.

Guys your age
can't digest certain foods.

You're gonna need to put down
that cheeseburger.

So you wanna keep emoting...

...or you wanna talk about solving
this little issue of yours?

It's gotta be about the chips.

I slid them across.

Patrick did his little witchy number,
and you prettied up in a hurry.

What are you all thinking?
Some magic chips or something?

Definitely.

- Remember what he chanted?
- Every word.

All right, then let's find out
where he stashes his chips.

And steal me 50, Benjamin Buttons me
back into burger shape.

What do you think?

I think you ought
to put some clothes on.

Ready for housekeeping, sir?

Born ready.

You're just like my grandfather.

He hits on anything that moves too.

You're adorable.

- And dangerous.
- Aw.

Can we just go?

Guys, call somebody.

He ran right out in front of me.
I didn't see him.

That's my car! Hey!
- I gotta say. I kind of like the guy.

Well, I'm out.

Dean?

Sam?

Dime-store model.

Piece of cake.

It's like Mission: Pathetic. Watch out.

I could have done that.

What are you doing?

- Aren't you the chick from the bar?
- I'm a lot more than that.

It's all right, sweetheart. It's all right.
They're harmless.

You boys want chips? Take them.

They're just chips, Einsteins.

It's showmanship.

This may come as a shock, but the
magic does not lie in a pile of plywood...

...or in any phony abracadabra.

It's in the 900-year-old witch.

You boys want years?

Score them the old-fashioned way.

Texas Hold'em.

Fine, let's do it.

What card am I holding up?

That's what I thought.

If your eyesight's that bad,
what about your memory?

I'm not a murderer.

You, on the other hand.

- No, Sam.
- Dean.

What, Sam not much of a player?

Okay. Well, happy trails, Dean.

Enjoy the twilight of your life.

Should have taken better care
of that ticker, though.

You're free to go.

Oh, but, Sam...

...your brother's situation,
that's punishment enough...

...but I can't let you leave
without a small parting gift.

What are you doing?

You'll find out soon enough.

Get out of here, Sam.

Dude...

...I believe that he-witch gave you
the clap.

A little help here.

You know, I still think I should play.

No.

You're not good enough.

I'm better. Bobby's way better.

- We both lost.
Exactly.

So what?
So I don't get a say in this anymore?

When you get to be our age-

You're 30, Dean. Look, I've watched you
hustle plenty of poker.

Knowing the game is not enough.
It's not about playing the cards.

- It's about playing the other guy, I know.
- Hooray for you.

All I'm saying is I played this guy.

I know his style. I can take him.

No, Bobby. You don't have enough years
in the bank.

- I got enough.
- You'll die if you lose, Bobby.

So what if I do, huh?

What exactly am I living for, huh?

The damn apocalypse?

Watching men die while I sit in this
chair, can't take a step to help them?

- Bobby-
- No, no. It's the facts.

I'm old...

...and broke down, and I can't-

I ain't a hunter no more.

I'm useless.

And if I wasn't such a coward...

...I'd have stuck a gun in my mouth
day I got home from the hospital.

Bobby, you are not playing again.

I'm not letting you do that.

There's another way out of this.
There's gotta be...

...and I'm gonna find it.

Take it.

It'll help you.

- What is this?
- Most powerful reversal spell...

...you've ever laid your eyes on.

And it reverses what?

Patrick's work. All of it.

You saying I could be normal again?

You and everyone else
he's ever played...

...who's still alive.

- Why the hell should we trust you?
- Trust me, don't trust me, I don't care.

The spell is real.

If it zaps everyone,
don't that include your man?

And me too.

I look good for my age.

Lady, this don't add up for squat.

Why would you want that?

I have my reasons.

Do it quick.

We leave town tomorrow.

Bet.

I sense you've got me by the jewels
on this one, Hesh.

I fold.

What are you up, like,
13 years there, Hesh?

What do you say we call it a day?

Thanks, Patrick.

Hesh here is gonna live
to see his granddaughter's bar mitzvah.

Isn't that right, Hesh?

Thanks again, Patrick.

Shalom, my friend. Shalom.

That was nice of you.

I'm a nice guy.

What can I do you for?

Deal.

Jawbone of a murderer. Great.

You- You know, this really sucks.

How do we even know
her spell's gonna work?

We don't. We ain't got a plan B.

Now, less flapping and more digging.

Oh, God.

My elbows. I'm all creaky.

Hurry up, you crybaby.

Pound it up your ass, Ironsides.

One little grave.

Then you do it.

- Fine, I'll hop right in.
- Well, at least your legs are numb.

- Shut up and dig, Grandma.
- Ow!

Now it's my back.

Can you straighten up?

A little sympathy wouldn't hurt.

Butt cheek tingling?

Well, that's kind of personal.

So yeah?

It's sciatica. You'll live. Keep digging.

You know, Bobby,
killing you is officially on my bucket list.

I like you, Sam. I do.

You're smart and your heart's clearly
in the right place.

I can tell a lot about a guy by looking.

- You mean you're psychic?
- No. That'd be cheating.

I'm talking
about good old-fashioned intuition.

Right. Let's just play.

We are playing.

Does your big brother know
you're here?

Bet five.

Didn't think so.

I raise.

Here you are, right...

...trying to clean up their mess...

...and they still wanna sit you
at the kiddie table.

You're not the little brother anymore,
Sam.

Then again...

...maybe you are.

You're in over your head here, Sam.

I mean, you can keep making
these moves, you know...

...playing it cautious,
playing the percentages...

...but I'll kick your ass
into the nursing home.

Does this armchair psychology routine
usually work for you?

You tell me.

You're the one who's losing.

Little break?

How's it going in there?

How do you think it's going?

What about you?
Have everything you need?

We still need a little he-witch DNA.

He was chewing it.

Hurry up, Dean. Please.

All right.
Just keep him busy and, Sammy...

...don't lose.

Drop it in.

Well, how do I look?

Question.

Is this what you meant
to give your big brother?

The one you gave him
never passed my lips.

Won't do a scrap of good.

I don't like cheating, Sam.

- Argh!
- Stop it, Patrick. Let him go.

He tried to kill us!
- I did it. I gave him the spell.

What?

Why?

- Why would you do that?
- You know why.

You know.

Keep playing.

Everything we put in that spell
was kosher.

Yeah,
everything except the damn toothpick.

You gotta go get a speck of DNA.

Strap on your track shoes.

Oh, goody.

More stairs.

It's too damn clean in here.

First witch I ever heard of didn't spew
bodily fluids all over the place.

Toothbrush, comb, anything.

Well, look at you.

The percentage player,
betting the farm.

Awful transparent of you, Sam.

I mean, if I had a monster hand
like you have...

...I'd trap you.

But you get so excited,
you bet yourself right out of a big pot.

I fold.

Set of ladies, I'm guessing.

Nice bluff.

If we had time,
I could make a real player out of you.

I got time.

Maybe.

But I can't say the same for Dean.

Your brother's gonna be dead soon...

...and when I say soon, ooh...

...I mean minutes.

The game's not over till I say it is.

Blinds.

Sam.

So when it's about your brother...

...you get emotional,
your brain just flies out the window.

- Good to know.
- Go to hell.

I'm all in.

- Don't do that, Sam.
- I can't leave until it's over?

Fine, it's over.
Now, where's my brother?

- There's poker and then there's suicide.
- Just play the hand.

Dean? Dean, you there?

Fine.

Dean?

I'm sorry, kid.

Aces full.

You're crying.

For a witch, you're so nice,
it's actually kind of creepy.

It's okay.

It was a great hand.

Just...

...not as great as-

As four fours.

Well played.

You know, that whole...

...going-out-of-your-head bit-

Very method.

Well, there's more to you
than meets the eye.

Cash these in for Dean, please?

With pleasure.

Dean, you hear me?

Damn it, Dean!

Idiot.

I can't do this, Lia.

Yes, you can.

Don't make me.

I don't wanna win.

I buried my daughter...

...and she looked like this.

It's not natural.

You knew.

When you decided to come with me...

...this is what you wanted.

You're still young.

You're so beautiful. You have me.

I miss my family.

I'm sorry, Patrick.

I thought you loved me.

I do.

Sweetheart, of course I do.

I thought I was cut out for this,
but I'm not.

I don't think I can do this
without you.

You got on okay for a long time
before you met me.

Check.

All in.

All in.

Thank you.

No tricks? You actually beat the guy?

How the hell-?

Just lucky.

- All right. I'll see y'all guys later.
- Where you going?

Nowhere.

Booster shot. Don't say it.

Well, I guess we can get
the van loaded.

I shouldn't have called you an idiot.

Which time?

I'm sorry.

I mean, I actually- I get it.

Getting old ain't a bachelor party, and
dealing with the crap you gotta deal-

- Don't you go on pity patrol.
- I'm not.

I'm not. I'm just-

- I'm saying, if I was in your shoes-
- You'd never stop complaining.

Fair enough.

You're not useless, Bobby.

Okay.

Good talk.

Whoa, wait a minute. Listen to me.

You don't stop being a soldier
because you got wounded in battle.

Okay? No matter what shape you're in,
bottom line is you're family.

Now, I don't know if you noticed, but
me and Sam, we don't have much left.

I can't do this without you.

I can't.

So don't you dare think
about checking out.

I don't wanna hear that again.

- Okay.
- Okay.

Good.

Thanks.

Are we done feeling our feelings?

Because I'd like to get out of this room
before we both start growing lady parts.

Yeah, we're done.

Let's go, Ironsides.

Oh, that one's sticking, huh?