Crackle, Crackle THEN! Well, this is dull. Except for that semi t-boning Metallicar at the end of last season's finale, of course. Shut Up Daddy summoned The Ceiling Demon to trade The Fucking Colt and himself for Dean's life. Angst ensued. Also, Sam and Dean learned about these nifty little circles you can draw on the roof to trap demons. Got all that? Good.
Crackle, Crackle NOW! "Greenwood, Mississippi" emerges from the black, along with the opening notes of "Crossroad Blues," from which this episode takes its name. Beneath the location, a few more characters materialize to inform us it's actually "August 1938," so even the NOW! on this show is a LYING LIAR WHO LIES. As the gentleman playing the guitar starts getting into the main melody lines of the song, a bare lightbulb appears in the lower left-hand side of the screen, followed shortly by a dimly lit overhead shot of an old plank-floored juke joint. In the center of the room next to the heavy stone fireplace, a woman sits forward in her chair listening intently to the music with her white-gloved hands folded in her lap. In contrast to the joint's other patrons, who bop along gently with the beat, this central woman remains almost as still as a statue, save for her right foot, which is subtly tapping along with the instrumental blues tune's rhythm. And I've spent an inordinate amount of time describing her because there's not a lot else going on in this scene besides some guitar playing. Good thing I like the song, I guess. The camera eventually lands on the player's face, and he's got a cigarette hanging from one side of his mouth just like a certain someone in a photobooth snapshot later turned into an infamously bowdlerized stamp, so I think it's safe to refer to this guitar-strumming gentleman as "Mr. Johnson" for the remainder of his time in this recap. Mr. Johnson flips his eyes up under the brim of his fedora at the woman with the white-gloved hands, and because of the subsequent twinkly smirk he gives her, I was going to refer to her as his Little Queen Of Spades. Then I remembered how much I hate getting email from idiots, so she'll be The Kindhearted Woman until she receives a proper name, which I don't think is ever going to happen this evening.