The Universe's Mixer

Beretta? Check. Silver bullets? Check. Knife? Check. Flask with holy water? Check and double check. ID…? Sam ran through the mental checklist, making certain each item was physically accounted for and on his person before taking further stock of his surroundings. At first glance, it appeared to be a normal motel room, in a normal city, but this time Sam knew better. And it still him flashbacks to the time the Trickster had stuck him in an endless loop of Tuesdays. “Come on, Sam,“ he muttered to himself as he stepped outside, “What is wrong with this picture?” 

The car parked outside his room, for one. That hadn't been there the last time he'd stepped out the door. 

It made him wonder...what else had changed?