Jo, for her part, has somehow remained merrily oblivious of the Satan-related drama that's been consuming the Cheshire hunting community. Without Ellis around (what happened to him, anyway? Did he just decide that zombies weren't real and get a ticket out? No one will tell her, and it's kinda frustrating) and with Dean next door, she's not really felt the need to check the board half as obsessively of late - there's always something else to be doing; Weetzie's good karma rituals, plotting escape routes should the zombie apocalypse Cas had mentioned turn out to be something other than drug-induced ramblings, drawing up lists of possible suspects in The Curious Case of Dean's Missing Voice which somehow always turn into random doodles rather than serious notes.
"You think?" She's frowning, but - god help her, because normal people probably don't react to the news that the world might be ending as a job opportunity rather than a disaster - there's no disguising the slight note of excitement. "The way Cas talked about it we're in the middle of some apocalypse-proof bubble."