"Until I burn the bitch." Dean barely ducked in time to avoid a flying pot of some sort. The shards thrown back from impact cut his cheek and into his clothes. He ignored it as best he could.
Trying to make quick work of things, he used the shovel, leaving the crowbar with the swinging hottie. He couldn't take the one weapon keeping his ass from being mulch. The coffin's top groaned and complained as he worked to get it open. He ducked again as something came flying.
"Hey, aim for the flowers!" Well, she could get those things too, right? It was like some bad video game. As soon as he got the coffin open enough, he doused the thing liberally with salt and lighter fluid.
Without asking for help up, he started to climb out of the grave, not noticing that there was a ghost forming over him. Even if he did, there wasn't much he could do about it in his current position.