"Dude. We gotta stop here first," Dean said, eyes wide as he gestured outside the window to a nearby restaurant, "It's even shaped like a pie." The Winchesters had stopped in the quirky small town following a rash of strange deaths across the state. The last death had occurred here not even two days ago. Dean had complained the entire drive, lamenting the loss of the Bat Cave, until he'd seen it. The Pie Hole.

"C'mon, man. Our last stop was four hours ago," Dean insisted, parking the Impala. The two of them climbed out and Dean made a beeline for the door. "Besides," he grinned, "maybe someone knows something." Sam just snorted and rolled his eyes as he followed Dean into the diner.


At that very moment, the Piemaker was mulling over what he knew while rolling out another one of his perfect pie crusts. The facts were these: 1 day, 12 hours and 27 minutes ago, Edith Margo, orphanage supervisor and amateur astronomer, was out of bed gazing intently at the stars. 1 day, 12 hours and 23 minutes ago, however, Edith had stopped, likely due to the unfortunate fact she was dead. Even more unfortunate, however, was the discovery of her dead body by one Eugene Hughes. Aside from her life, there was one more thing Edith Margo was missing: her legs.

If there was someone who could sniff out a strange case, it was Emerson Cod, which was why 8 hours and 22 minutes later, he was off to the morgue, the Piemaker in tow. "This was not in my plans," the Piemaker muttered anxiously, not excited to see the body of one missing their bottom half.

"Oh yeah?" Emerson Cod said, "Well, I don't think it was in Edith's plans to get herself killed and look how that worked out. Besides, I didn't have anything better to do and this is actually an interesting death for once."

The Piemaker swallowed. "Interesting is a plot twist, or when it snows in October, or a strawberry ending up in your apple pie. Interesting is usually not something I apply to corpses whose legs appear to have been forcibly removed."

"You know what I call interesting?" Emerson called, turning to face Ned, who'd fallen behind, "Money. And weird cases like this bring in a lot of cash. So let's have you work some magic on this interesting corpse of ours." Snorting, he returned to the door, pushing it open.

The corpse was pulled from its frosty hidey-hole and set out for the men. With a flourish, Emerson whipped off the sheet. Edith Margo had not been a particularly tall woman and this was especially apparent with bloody stubs that existed in place of legs. Ned turned away, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. "You didn't have to pull it all the way off," he groaned, "It's indecent!"

"Indecent is keeping your dead girlfriend alive at the expense of someone else," Emerson said, "Besides, when's the next time you're gonna see a freak show like this?"

Ned grimaced as he pulled a stopwatch out of his pocket. Setting it at 60 seconds, he handed the device to Emerson before turning to face the corpse, who was, rather unfortunately, covered in blood. Wincing, Ned rolled up his sleeve, eyeing the body to try and find the cleanest point of access. "Go time," he said, touching Edith's mostly clean chin as Emerson started the timer. There was a gasp and Edith breathed in. 59 seconds to go.

"Hello, Edith, you're-" Ned started, but he was cut off by a shriek as Edith bolted upright, followed by a yell from Emerson.

"MY LEGS! I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS!" the short, portly woman screamed as Emerson swore. Ned ignored him.

"Yes, it's rather unfortunate, we were just wondering, Edith, if you could tell us who killed you," Ned said, trying to inject as much calm into his voice as he could. Corpses still rattled him.

Unfortunately, both Edith and Emerson were yelling. "EMERSON," Ned called, "Shut up!" He turned back to face Edith."This is important. Who killed you?"

She quieted, though there was still fear in her eyes. "I know what killed me," she said, voice hoarse, "Saw it clear as day. T'was a vampire."

Ned gaped, unsure of what to say. "Time!" called Emerson, and with another quick touch Edith was back down, dead, this time, for good. From across the table, Ned caught Emerson's eye. What had they gotten themselves into this time?