( POOR GIANT )

The prisoners are lined up to be frisked by a guard, and scanned with a metal-detecting rod by another. Dean and Sam are well down the line. Dean speaks in a low voice to Sam, who is standing behind him. "My roommate doesn't say much – how's yours?" He asks.

"Just keeps staring at me... in a way that makes me really uneasy." Sam says quietly.

"It sounds like you're making new friends."

"Dean, this is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we've ever done. And that's in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy." Sam says.

"Calm down. It's all part of the plan." Dean says.

"Oh really? So Henriksen showing up was part of the plan?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, that guy moves a little faster than I thought. Look, all we gotta do is find this ghost, put the sucker down... then grab ourselves a couple of teardrop tattoos." Dean says.

"That's not funny. Dean, what about this escape plan? I –" Sam starts.

"It's 100 percent sure. I wouldn't have gone if it wasn't. I mean, come on, man, this place has all the signs of a haunting. Innocent people are dead. Four so far."

Sam laughs sarcastically. "Yeah, innocent." He says.

"You from Texas all of a sudden? Just because these people are in jail, doesn't mean they deserve to die." Dean says. "If we don't stop this, people are going to continue to die. We do this job wherever it takes us."

"Look, Dean, just be straight with me, all right? You're doing this for Deacon." Sam says.

"Damn right." Dean says.

"Well, you barely even know the guy."

"We know he was in the Corps with Dad. He saved Dad's life. We owe him." Dean says.

"But don't you think he's asking a little much?" Sam asks.

"It doesn't matter. We may not be saints, but we're loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me, and it ought to you. I'm not thrilled about this either, but Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down, and that's what we're going to do."

Sam is looking at spaghetti on his fork and sniffing at it. He and Dean are eating at a table. "You know, this chicken isn't half bad." Dean says.

"Great." Sam puts down his fork and slides his plate towards Dean. "Finish mine. All right, so let's go back over this, Dean." Dean stabs Sam's chicken with a fork and moves it to his own plate. "Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?"

"Yeah, psycho killer extraordinaire – Satanism, ritual murderer, died in jail." Dean says.

"You sure it's him?" Sam asks.

"Pretty sure."

"Dean, considering our circumstances, I'm gonna need a little bit better than 'pretty sure'." Sam says.

"Really pretty sure." Dean says.
"Moody died of a heart attack, which is what all the victims in here are dying of. He died in the old cell block, which they closed after he croaked, 30 years ago. They just opened that back up. That's when the killings started."

"So you think his spirit was released somehow?" Sam asks.

"Um-hmm."

"But what if he was already cremated?" Sam asks.

"I'm guessing there's something in the old block that's keeping him around. And whatever it is, we got to find it. And, uh, you know the rest." Dean puts down his fork. "I'm done."

Dean gets up and walks away, Sam following. Sam bumps heavily into a tattooed prisoner. "Sorry. I –" Sam starts.

"Watch where you're going." He says.

"Yeah. Sure. I just –" Sam starts.

Dean walks over to the tattooed prisoner. "He said he was sorry." He says.

"Dean..." Sam starts.

"You talking to me?" The prisoner asks as Dean stares at him. "Are you talking to me?"

Dean throws his hands into the air. "Great, another guy who's seen "Taxi Driver" too many times. Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go."

The tattooed prisoner walks away and Dean turns to Sam. "Dean, come on." Sam says.

"See, that's how you got to talk to these guys." Dean winks. "Instant respect."

The tattooed prisoner is talking to a very large one, who is sitting at a table nearby. He gets up. "You were saying?" Sam asks. The very large prisoner is following the tattooed prisoner towards Dean as other prisoners look on.

"Oh, great." Dean says.

The tattooed prisoner throws a punch at Dean. Dean catches him and holds him from behind. "We can end this right now – no harm, no foul."

The tattooed prisoner breaks Dean's hold. Dean grabs him again and slams him against a wall. The tattooed prisoner steps on Dean's foot.

Dean steps back and kicks the tattooed prisoner in the groin and then sends him flying backwards to the ground with another kick. "That's enough!" The warden says.

The Warden and a Guard walk up. "On your feet, Lucas." He says.

"Yes, sir, boss."

The Warden takes out his baton and holds it under Dean's chin. "What's your name?" He asks.

"Winchester." Dean says.

"Well, Winchester... not a good start. Solitary. You too, Lucas." Guards grab Lucas and Dean.

"Yes, sir." Lucas says.

Dean turns to the guard holding him. "Are we having fun yet, huh?" He
Asks. The very large prisoner points at Sam, then makes a slicing motion across his neck. Sam sighs.

We cut to a cell block hallway, then to a cell in which Dean is sitting, leaning against a wall. "I wish I had a baseball." He says.

Lucas looks through the small window in the door of his cell, across the hallway from Dean's cell. "What? What'd you say?" He asks.

"I said, 'I wish I had a baseball'."
Dean moves so he can look through his own window. "You know, like – like Steve McQueen.

"Yeah? Well, I wish I had a bat so I could bash your frickin' head in." Lucas says.

"Okay." Dean goes back to leaning against the wall. "Well, so much for the bonding in solitary moment."

The lights flicker and Dean's breath becomes visible. He looks through the window and sees a clock in the hallway, which reads 8:30. The second hand is just past the 4 and is not moving.

"Crap. Lucas, listen to me. Stay very still." Dean says.

Lucas looks through his window. There is a whooshing sound and two narrowed eyes look back at him. He steps back in alarm.

A hand grabs him from behind and turns his face around. We see a close-up of the narrowed eyes. Lucas grimaces, then screams, as dark veins pop out on and spread across his face.

Dean is looking though his own window, though he probably can't see what is happening in Lucas' cell.

LITTLE ROCK POLICE STATION
[ ☼ ]

Henriksen is reading a file at his desk. Reidy is looking at paperwork in the background. Mara Daniels enters the room."Henriksen." She says.

"Hey, Daniels."

"Can I have a word?" Mara ask someone.

"Have a seat." Henriksen says. "What's on your mind?"

"I've been going through the Winchester charges. And I got to say, there are some weird inconsistencies." She says.

"Welcome to my world." He says.

"I talked to a cop in Baltimore who swears up and down these boys saved her life and helped her catch a killer." Mara says. "And there's a witness to your bank robbery in Milwaukee. She swears Sam and Dean saved her life."

"Saved her from what?" Henriksen asks.

"She was a little unclear on that." She says.

"That's because she's nuts. Look, I was in Milwaukee. I spoke to her. I spoke to all the witnesses." Henriksen says.

"And?"

"And, all I know is, wherever these guys go, people die. It's that simple. It's bad enough that their little girlfriend is on the loose."

"I don't know that it is. They just don't seem cut and dry guilty to me. I think there's more to this." Mara says.

Henriksen looks at her. "Like what?" He asks.

"I don't know. Can't put my finger on it. It's just... strange." She says.

"Strange. Yeah. Okay. Grownups are trying to get some work done here, so... if you don't mind..." Henriksen says and Mara leaves the room.

GREEN RIVER COUNTY DETENTION CENTER
[ ☼ ]

Sam is standing in a line for the telephone. One prisoner moves out of the way. He dials a familiar number. "Hey." He says.

"Hey. What's going on?" Elena asks.

Sam sighs. "Another prisoner is dead." He whispers as he makes sure no ones listening."

"Are you and Dean alright?" She asks.

"Yeah."

"Good."

"One minute!" The Guard yells.

Sam leans against the telephone pole. "I miss you." He says, smiling.

"I miss you too. Now you better find this killer, okay?" She says.

"Okay." Sam hangs up.

When Sam walks by, the guard grabs his arm. "You're in mopping duty."

Sam and a prisoner are mopping floors. "How you doing?" Sam asks.

"I'm 54 years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How you think I'm doing?" The prisoner asks.

"All right. Bad icebreaker. I'm Sam."

"Randall."

"Nice to meet y– Randall. Hey, weren't you there the night that guard died?" Sam asks.

"Yeah." Randall says.

"Well, what happened?"

"They say the stress of the job got him." Randall says.

"Yeah? What do you say?" Sam asks.

"Why are you inside, kid?"

"Cause I got an idiot for a brother." Sam says.

"That'll do it."

"Yeah." Sam mumbles.

"Well, this place ain't so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the damn Hilton." Randall says.

Sam stops mopping. "You spent time in the old block?"

"Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer."

"Didn't they have Mark Moody there for a while?" Sam asks.

"He was there. I was there, too, the night that lunatic bought it." Randall says.

"Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?"

"Sure, his heart stopped right after the guard stopped using his head for batting practice." Randall says. "The next morning, I was in his cell, mopping up the blood. What a mess."

"Wait. So he – he was beaten and – and nobody reported it?" Sam asks

"You kept your mouth shut, unless you wanted to die from the Same heart attack, you know?"

"Randall, exactly how much blood was there?" Sam asks.

GREEN RIVER COUNTY DETENTION CENTER REC YARD
[ ☼ ]

Dean is playing cards with a prisoner at an outdoor table. "Call." He says.

"Three aces."

"That's a bad beat. That is a bad beat..." Dean starts.

The prisoner picks up the cigarettes that are on the table between them. Dean had a large pile of cigarettes next to him.

Sam is standing nearby watching the game. "...but, see, I'm full... 3s over aces." Dean says. The prisoner drops the cigarettes, slams his hand down on the table and stands up. Dean laughs and spreads his hands. "Sorry. Hey, it's a cruel game, my friend." He says. The prisoner flings down his cards and walks off. "Sorry, guys." Sam sits down across from Dean as Dean gathers the cigarettes he won. "It's like picking low hanging fruit."

"You don't even smoke." Sam says.

"Are you kidding me? This is the currency of the realm." Dean says.

"Look. I got a good lead on Moody." Sam says.

"Me too. His spirit paid a little visit last night."

"What?" Sam asks.

"The clock stopped, the flickering lights, cold spot... I mean, he did everything but yell boo." Dean says.

"Well, what happened?"

"He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming... Guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to go like that. What'd you find out on Moody?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, I think I know where we might find his remains. Blood in his old cell." Sam says.

"Blood? I thought it was a heart attack."

"It was, after the guards worked him over. I mean, apparently there was so much blood in there, they had trouble mopping it out." Sam says.

"How we gonna get in?" Dean asks.

"I got a plan."

Dean smiles. "That's the Sammy I know. Come on, man, you're like Clint Eastwood from 'Escape From Alcatraz'."He says.

"The problem is if even if we do find something, how are we gonna burn it? We don't have any accelerant." Sam says.

"It's a good thing I'm like James Garner from 'The Great Escape'." Dean stands up and holds up two hands full of cigarettes. "Hey, fellas! Who's ready to deal?"

Sam and Dean are in line for food. "You sure about this?" Dean asks.

"Pretty sure." Sam says.

"Yeah, well, considering our circumstances, I'd like a little better than 'pretty sure'." Dean says.

"Okay, really pretty sure."

"I'd like mine al dente." Dean says.
The server plonks spaghetti noodles and sauce on Dean's tray. "Perfect." He walks to a table at which the very large prisoner is sitting. "Save room for dessert, Tiny." Dean sits down across from tiny. "Hey, I wanted to ask you, 'cause I couldn't help but notice that you are two tons of fun. Just curious – is it like a thyroid problem, or is it some deep seated self-esteem issue?" Sam is on his feet nearby, watching. "Cause, you know, they're, uh they're just doughnuts. They're not love."

Sam is now standing near two guards. Tiny shoves his tray towards Dean and punches Dean in the face. Dean goes flying to the ground. The Warden walks around a corner near the two guards.

Dean gets up and hits Tiny three times, but his punches seem to have no impact. Tiny grabs the front of Dean's prison jumpsuit and Dean headbutts him. Dean steps back with a hand to his head.

A guard puts his baton around tiny's neck from behind. Tiny picks up the guard and throws him down on the table. "Guys, give me a hand." The Warden and two guards who were standing near Sam hurry over as Tiny punches Dean again and grabs him from behind.

During the struggle, Sam slips into the kitchen. He grabs a salt shaker and climbs into a vent. The guards finally succeed at pulling Tiny away from Dean. Dean falls to the floor.

Another guard helps Dean up and the Warden grabs Dean's face. "If we'd waited any longer, you'd be dead." He says.

"You waited long enough." Dean says.

The Warden shoves his baton into Dean's stomach. Dean doubles over and the he grabs the back of his head. "Do yourself a favor. Don't talk." Warden says and turns to the guards. "Take them both up to the infirmary."

Sam is lowering himself down into a hallway in the old cellblock. He opens a cell door and lifts the cover on the bed, revealing a large bloodstain. He sprinkles salt and lighter fluid onto the bloodstain, lights a match and sets the bedding on fire.

In the infirmary, Dean and Tiny are in adjacent cells with wire fence walls and a curtain between them. "Hey, Tiny." Dean asks.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, sorry about the things I was saying earlier. Can't really tell you why, but I had to get you angry. So, uh... Anyway, sorry." Dean says.

"It's okay. Truth is, I have low self-esteem issues. My old man treated me and my brother like crap, right up till the day he died." Tiny says.

"How'd he die?"

"My brother shot him."

"Okay." Dean sees the ghost of a woman standing on the other side of a fenced-off area of the infirmary. The clock on the wall reads 8:45 and the second hand is at 12. "Oh, crap."

"What is it?" Tiny asks. Dean gets off his bed, looks around for something to use against the ghost and rattles the door of his cell. The ghost walks through the fence she was standing behind. The time on the clock hasn't changed. "What's going on?"

Dean grabs a salt shaker from a tray at the end of his bed. The ghost comes closer and Dean is flung back against the wall. He falls to the floor with a groan. "What is it?"

The ghost is now standing over Dean. She puts a hand to his chest and he groans. She breathes out and her breath is visible. Dean flings salt at her and she disappears. He lies back, groaning in pain. "Oh! No! No!"

"Tiny!" Dean gets to his feet. We can see Tiny's shape through the curtain as he slides down the fenced wall of his cell. "Tiny!" Dean slams the door of his cell and kicks it. "Guard! Guard!"