(The office of the Winchester Detective Agency. Dean Winchester is seated at a heavy wooden desk near an avocado phone. A cell phone rings; he removes it from his pocket and flips it open.)
DEAN: Winchester Detective Agency. Whenever there's trouble, we're there on the double! Mr. Winchester isn't-- oh, hi, Dad.
(Cut to Sam Winchester on the same set, with vaguely different lighting)
SAM: Dean, have you seen Dad?
(Cut to Sam once again, opening a door and speaking presumably to Dean, who is not visible from this camera angle)
SAM: Dad's been kidnapped!
NARRATOR: And now today's episode of The Bloodhound Gang
(o/`Theme music o/` If you've got the physically manifested spiritual abomination, we've got the time, etc.)
(The office of the Winchester Detective Agency. A green glass hanging lamp, a very ornate coat rack with an unclaimed hat on it, and several sets of faintly discolored photographs, hung disquietingly in oddly-spaced sets.)
SAM: (repeatedly thunking a baseball from one hand into the glove he wears on the other) Did anything sound suspicious when you spoke to Dad on the phone?
DEAN: Of course.
SAM: Could you be more specific?
DEAN: He said we're all in danger... I picked up some kind of background pattern that comes through as a woman's voice singing "The Ants Go Marching" in an ancient Anasazi dialect...
SAM: So-- suspicious, but ordinary.
SAM: Just let me please say this once: couldn't we do The Electric Company instead?
DEAN: (smacks him) 'Course not. Now, what clues can we get from this letter we have from Dad?
(Sam and Dean pore over the letter.)
DEAN: He signs it, "John 'Tres' Winchester." Hm. That's odd. Dad doesn't have a middle name.
SAM: (opens mouth to speak, gets sideways look from Dean, thinks better of it, clams up)
DEAN: (Tapping at his lower lip with a forefinger) "Tres" means "very" in French.
SAM: (Defeated) It means three in Spanish.
DEAN: (Wheels about) You're right! All we have to do is figure out what common knowledge about Spanish monastery grillwork was dropped earlier in this serial episode.
(Dean's cell phone rings. He opens it.)
DEAN: Winchester Detective Agency. Whenever there's ichor dribbling out of your hairbrush, we're there on the double. Mr. Winchester isn't here. (Listens, then whispers to Sam) It's the kidnappers!
(Sam creeps over to the desk, plucks the desk phone receiver from the hook, muffles it, and listens in)
SAM: Can we just do Captain Kangaroo?
DEAN: No. Never mix the supernatural and ping-pong balls.
SAM: Square One.
DEAN: I liked Square One.
SAM: (wistful) Yeah.
GRAVELLY-VOICED KIDNAPPER: You pesky kids still there?
DEAN: Um, yeah. You have our dad!
G-V K: As far as you know.
DEAN: Let me talk to him.
G-V K: Well... okay.
DEAN: I'm listening, Dad.
JOHN: I put a code in the letter. Did you get it?
DEAN: Not yet, Dad.
JOHN: The letter, or the code?
DEAN: The code.
JOHN: Well, okay. We're all in grave danger. Is your brother there?
DEAN: (nods at Sam)
SAM: I'm here, Dad.
JOHN: You shouldn't be there, Sammy.
SAM: I'll take that under consideration, Dad. Love you.
G-V K: That's enough! You know your father's alive.
DEAN: (clicks cell phone shut) He hung up.
SAM: I heard. But are you sure it was a he?
DEAN: Yes. Idiot. Obviously, all the Canada goose honking in the background was the clue, which means there's no freaky transgender stuff going on in this episode.
SAM: (looking doubtfully into the receiver he still holds in his hand) Canada... goose?
DEAN: Yes. Just as the wilderness guide told us on Monday, the Canada geese have a predetermined route they remember with magnets in their head or something and follow every year. The very same geese that nested at Pine Ridge Hubert Simpson Memorial Park for Bird Preservation will return there this year.
SAM: (Hollowly) Wow, Dean, you're smart.
DEAN: And never forget it.
NARRATOR: Next time on The Bloodhound Gang:
SAM: Dean, if you hadn't cooked pizza every Friday from the time you were twelve, Dad would've eaten condensed chicken noodle soup for breakfast, lunch and supper for the rest of his natural life.
DEAN: Maybe Dad knows something about chicken noodle soup that we don't know.
(Cut to a darkened warehouse with a huge, sprawling, spray-painted black "TRES" on the interior wall.)
DEAN: Dad was definitely here.
SAM: Yeah, yeah. We are out of sweet rolls.
DEAN: (Smacks him)