At the exact moment one of the zombies scratched Dean Winchester's arm enough to draw blood, a phone rang across town.
The man with the pipe answered the phone, taking it out of his pocket, and nodded at what the person on the other end said. It was enough, now.
His daughters had always been cruel. He'd been trying, recently, to mitigate their messes, trying to clean up. But the magic that made this night such a fantastic testing ground for his daughters and for the entire town was now undone.
He hung up the phone and snapped his fingers. His daughters stood there now, all three of them.