Your Werewolf’s a Moron || Crowley & Faith
It's over four hours on I-70, literally eastbound and down. Through Topeka, through Sam's home town of Lawrence and straight on to Kansas City to see the Underwood Devil about a werewolf problem.
Outside Her Syndrome or Asphalt Furs, or whatever the garage-rock band made up of idiot werewolves called themselves these days, have spent weeks pummeling border towns between Missouri and Kansas. Making noise, getting on TV and basically making it hard for Faith to help Crowley fly under the radar. His minions don't respect him and that's got to change because now it's Faith's ass on the line, too.
Faith takes Sam's car down a long drive in a deserted, 'glitch in the matrix' sort of suburb. Gets out of her car, taking a rolled up paper sack with her and lets herself in the front door of Crowley's weirdly well-kept mansion to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck is going on.
Being a minion of sorts, herself, she probably ought to keep her mouth shut but when she finds Crowley spouting ridiculous orders at Jess and those valley girls who work for him, she's not quiet. Muscles into the conversation, "We got problems. Wolves are kickin' up a ruckus up and down the border, gettin' Sammy all riled up and wanting to come out here to play Boy Slayer. All I could do to keep his ass in Lebanon. I wanna know what you're gonna do about it."