It was supposed to be a regular salt and burn. Supposed to being the operative words in that sentence. Because apparently, when you worked alongside the Winchesters there was no such thing as regular. The vengeful spirit was well and truly pissed off. Sure, they'd dealt with that kind of seriously pissed spirit before, but it usually wasn't pretty.
And apparently, it didn't take well to having it's grave disturbed. Sam had gotten it unearthed, the salt and gasoline in. All he needed was to throw the matches in. Easier said than done when the ghost was throwing him and Jo around like rag dolls.
He hit the ground with a loud thump. Unfortunately, he couldn't see where Jo had landed. "...Jo? You alright?"