Here's Part 2:
We go to a rundown apartment building as Dean and Sam walk through the halls, stopping at a door marked 4C. Sam notices a line of black dust laid out just in front of the door.
Sam- Look at this.
(Both brothers crouch down to check out the black dust.)
Dean- What is that? It looks like pepper.
Just then the door opens and reveals George Barrow, a sixtyish man with a weathered face holding a whisky glass and eyeing them suspiciously. George demands their identities and Sam straightens up while his brother keeps looking at the dust. Sam introduces them to the man but he replies curtly, telling them that he’s not buying anything and begins to shut the door.
Dean- I think you reached for the wrong shaker, George. Usually when you want to keep something evil out, you go for the salt.
(George freezes) George- I don’t know what you are talking about.
Dean holds up George’s photo from the crossroads and tells him “This”, and George’s eyes widen. Sam steps up, taking his reaction as an opening to further conversation, and tries the usual Winchester “we can help” sells pitch.
Sam- We want to help you.
George (hardening)- Help me what?
Sam- We know you’re in trouble. . . .
Dean (under his breath)- That you got yourself into. . .
(Sam shoots Dean a warning look but Dean ignores it)
Dean (contd)- So seeing that hellhound yet?
(Sam nudges Dean hard and Dean just glares at him)
George (taken aback)- How do you know about that?
Dean- We know a couple things. About what you did.
George- Then you know you can’t help me.
Sam- Okay—Maybe you can help us. One person’s already dead, maybe two. . .
Just then an older woman walks past, shooting the trio a look at the word “dead”.
Dean- Look, we can entertaining the neighbors, or you can invite us in.
George- Five minutes. Step careful—Don’t you disturb the Goofer Dust.
As Dean shoots his brother an incredulous look they enter the apartment. It’s obvious that George a drinker with a heavy alcohol problem, and a practitioner of hoodoo as his apartment is chockfull of mojo bags, herbs, and dog eared books. He also appears to be a genius artist; there are paintings everywhere drawn with a bold, skillful hand but radiating an ominous air of dark figures at crossroads, red eyed woman, hellhounds and hallucinatory faces. As George resumes his alcoholic tendencies they begin a conversation anew, without benefit of the neighbors eavesdropping. George- You boys think you know something about something—but not Goofer Dust? That’s about the simplest hoodoo there is. (He tosses a sack of goofer dust at Dean; Dean catches the sack and peers inside, checking out the strange powder) Sam- Hoodoo’s not really our area of expertise. But we’d like to learn. What’s it for? George- Keep out demons. Dean- Demons we know.
As Dean pockets the sack that George tossed at him, Sam wanders over and flips open a disinegrating notebook sitting on a side table. Inside are scribbled hoodoo spell recipes, including Hotfoot Powder, Summon to Crossroads, Reverse Jinx, and Devil Burn Paste. George reminds them that they have four minutes left and Sam goes back to stating that he and Dean want to help him. George replies by saying that his grandmother used to teach him things when he was a kid in New Orleans, and that she had said there were certain kinds of people who made the supernatural world their business and that could clean up a mess. George guesses that those people are the brothers and Sam acknowledges that fact. George comes back at him with “when a person makes their bed, they got to lie in it” and Dean tells him that isn’t really their philosophy, even though earlier he was pointing out that George made his own mess. George comes back at him, accusing Dean of thinking that he’s a fool, and then admits that he was a fool by calling the demon ten years ago. When Dean asks why he did it, George replies that he was weak and that everybody wants to be worth something. George- All a person wants is to be worth something. Be good at something. Dean-Was it worth it? George- Hell no. Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I’m still broke and lonely—Just, now I got a pile of paintings no one wants. And a burnin need to paint all the time. (then quietly) But that wasn’t the worst. It’s evident that George is already drunk and fast becoming drunker.
Sam (gently)- Go on. George- Demon didn’t leave. Stayed at Joe’s a week. Chattin. Makin deals. I tried to warn people, but whose gonna listen to an old drunk? Sam- How many others?George- Architect, that doctor lady. . .I kept up with them. They been in the papers. At least they got famous.
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