"Doctor Martha Jones, United Intelligence Taskforce," the Brit confirmed with a small smirk and a mock salute as she sat down on the offered chair. "Not that that even exists here," she rolled her eyes. "Safe to say I'm way out of my jurisdiction."
She glanced at the beer bottle before looking over to the bartender. "One of those will be great, thanks." She wasn't much of a drinker, too used to being on duty and on alert 24 hours a day, but one couldn't hurt. This once.
She put the bag of rock salt and her spare hip flask on the bar top with a grin. "Okay, when you get a motel room, line the doors and windows with the salt, that will stop the demons being able to get in. The holy water will burn them without harming the host body. They're the possessing types and the hosts are still alive in there." She shook her head, looking mildly disturbed. To be alive and have no control over your own body. She couldn't imagine much worse.
"Sam Winchester is the guy in the know around here. He'll be able to get you a copy of the exorcism ritual. Don't know how good your Latin is, but I don't think you need to understand the thing, just memorize it." The bartender came back with her bottle of beer and Martha took a long sip with a smirk. "Any questions so far?"