Dear Everyone who has any part in the making of the WB hit Supernatural:
I'm gonna just lay this on the table: I'm not very good with scary things. It's this little thing I've had since I was a kid. I definitely watched too much TV and can remember the physical sensations of terror while watching little Carol Ann be drawn into the light or seeing Chucky's face as he held his butcher knife high. I don't process that terrified feeling very well, and as an overweight child I couldn't find a place to hide quick enough and, if I did, I inevitably didn't fit into it. Around this period of impressionable youth, I also remember hearing my house creak and shift at night and being convinced that there were entire gangs of thieves prowling around outside my door. I practiced false sleep-breathing, or pretending I was dead so that the thieves would think their coworkers got there first. I inevitably had to go to the bathroom from such nervous tension, and I would walk through the halls with my eyes half-lidded, pretending to be so sleepy I couldn't possibly notice the man in the ski mask standing next to me. Yes, Everyone Who Has A Part In The Making Of Supernatural, I was a dramatic child.
So your show is definitely creepy. Or beyond creepy -- spooky, scary, halloweenish even. You've got that eerie music playing in nearly every scene, even when one of the main characters announces that he has to go to the bathroom and cracks a joke. People jump out of corners to announce that they brought the hot dogs, giving me coronaries and making me just the tiniest bit jumpy for the duration of the show. Once the sun sets, I can no longer watch your show for fear of calling forth the demons through the TV screen. Yes, really.
So, my dilemma. I like the show a lot, probably because I'm just a little nerdy, although you probably couldn't guess it from my extended and embarrassing childhood description beginning in the second sentence. I'm fascinated in the whole magic, witchcraft, good vs. evil thing (again, probably more than a little evident). I just need you to back off the eenciest bit on the violin-screech nervousness that's infusing the show. As it is, I'm trying to decide how to fool the Wendigo prowling underneath my bed when I have to get up in the middle of the night to pee.
Any suggestions? No, really. Help.
Your Consumer,
Dean
