Last night, Supernatural aired its 200th (!) episode, and instead of going big, the show went meta. We visited a girls' school where a group of (mostly) fans are putting on a Supernatural musical, featuring robots and aliens. But all of the "Destiel" jokes morph into a defense of Supernatural as great storytelling.
The main point of Supernatural's "Fan Fiction" is to poke fun at fan tropes, including "Wincest" and the Dean/Castiel slash fiction. As you can see in the clip above, Dean finally has to embrace the fact that you can't spell "subtext" without "sex," in order to defeat the monster of the week.
The musical numbers are actually pretty catchy, including the "Road So Far" song that we hear a couple times, and the a capella "Carry On My Wayward Son" is neat. The premise of the episode is that Marie, the control freak who created the Supernatural musical at her school, is so fixated on the show and so passionate in her love for it, that she raises the goddess Calliope, who starts kidnapping anyone who gets in the way of the show and plots to eat Marie's heart.
What's sorta interesting about this is that Marie's stage play is based on just the first five seasons of Supernatural, because those are the only parts of the story novelized by the prophet Chuck, aka Carver Edlund. (And when Dean gives Marie a thumbnail synopsis of the meandering storylines of seasons 6 through 10 thus far, she dismisses it as the worst fanfic she's ever heard.) It's like the show is sort of tacitly admitting that it had a cohesive storyline back when Sam and Dean were playing opposite roles in the apocalypse.
But more than that, the "Fan Fiction" storyline is Supernatural explaining its own longevity and why it inspires so much love. Using these teen-girl dramatists as a mouthpiece, the show explores the notion that it's the love between Sam and Dean, and the way they always stick together and come through for each other, that really matter in the end. (And it's sort of sad, when Sam and Dean are having one of their awkward, grown-up conversations about how it's probably healthier for them to be on the road rather than cooped up trying to recover from their recent ordeals — and then they see the kids nearby acting out their beloved "B.M.," a full on heart-on-the-sleeve talk straight from the earlier seasons.)
Oh, and there's a wonderfully awkward reminder of Adam, the half-brother they left caged up in Hell and then completely forgot about.
The first person to be snatched by the episode's evil scarecrow, the alcoholic drama teacher, is fed up with all this Supernatural crap. Drama, she says, should be about truth, about reality, not weird make-believe monster stories with cheesy relationship tropes. But when we meet Calliope, the muse of epic poetry, she delivers a speech about why Supernatural really is great: because it includes death and resurrection and heroism and all the things that make a good story. It's hard not to feel as though Supernatural's writers are defending themselves against some imaginary critics, a little bit.