To: Mr Dean Winchester, Esq.
C/o driver’s seat,
The Metallicar,
Kansas CNK 80Q3
USA
My dear Dean,
I’m sure this letter will come as a shock to you, as you struggle to make sense of season four so far. At this time, the last quarter of the season, I wish I could tell you everything will be alright. But I know it will be anything but.
Despite anything you may have gleaned from My operatives, you must believe that I am rooting for you. To have one misunderstood grafter whom no-one seems to support anymore on My team is most interesting, and I await your searing insight into how to proceed with much anticipation. I understand you feel alone, and I understand everyone needs encouragement now and again. For this reason I have asked one of my best operatives, Zachariah, to keep an eye on your progress - to pop down every once in a while to inspect the troops, so to speak. He has been a fan of your work for a while, and to be honest it also keeps him out of the office where he continually giggles to himself as the demonic host body count goes up on your personal scoreboard.
He has recently reported to Me, however, that you seem to have ‘dropped the ball’, as he put it. I am given to understand that this means, to use another of your human sporting analogies, that your batting average is lacking right now. We can’t have that. I understand you have had some tough times, but that’s no excuse to wibble like a small child and try to pass My operative Castiel a note from your parent to get you out of sports for the afternoon. You have been an adult for many years now, and while I realise you had no choice but to start acting like one at far too young an age, I also maintain that we all start as we mean to go on - and that includes acting like an adult. Yes, everyone has their off days (I swear to Me that I just stepped out of the office for a moment while the re-count for George W. Bush’s election votes was on), and yes, most people need a break every now again.
But not you. I have of course been watching you, Dean Winchester. I know exactly how many female names you have in your phonebook, and I even know about the secret overnight bag in the boot of your car for those times you wake up with a hangover in a place you did not expect to be - nothing gets past me, sunshine. I know you create opportunities for ‘happy endings’ and accept perks of the job where you can, because you do not know when you might find it again. What I am trying to tell you is that I know you are not the type to need to unwind - you are always like that. (It’s what keeps your hair up.) I know it, and so do you. So please, for the love of Me, get your game head back on and get back in the championship league - don’t make Me take further steps to convince you that, ultimately, you have no choice. Do you seriously think you can leave it to someone else?
I cannot stress enough how important it is that you keep fighting the good fight. A wary eye on your younger sibling would also be appreciated: spare the rod and spoil the child. And no-one wants that. (I have already written to your brother; see attachment.)
Finally, on a personal note: It is immensely gratifying that you share My adoration of My creations, or rather, the females. And while I did not invent cheeseburgers, I approve of their use as an emotional crutch when your sibling whines all day. But please, do not covet that automobile so. After-all, it is only man-made. And as spring dwindles and we head toward summer, I think it’s high time we got back to single layers - I recommend those thin t-shirts with the nice loose V-necks. I think you’ll find a lot of those females you spend so much time thinking about will appreciate the change from your usual unnecessarily heavy shirts. And I do think you should let more people see proof of the Work I do - or at least, the Work My operatives do on my behalf - right there on your shoulder. It will be good for you too to get those arms of yours out more - that burn needs a bit of sun if it is ever to heal properly. Trust Me, no-one will protest.
P.S.
Next time you happen to speak with My operative Castiel, please inform him his dry-cleaning is still waiting to be picked up. Perhaps you could do an old creator a favour and nudge him in the direction of a less scruffy Columbo outfit - and perhaps find a way to help him relax between assignments? If he asks Me one more time why I will not allow him to take in a Basset Hound, I swear I'll start smiting.
