When I was a little girl growing up in England, my family and I were avid watches of Dr Who.  The first actor I can recall watching in the Role was John Pertwee, who was the 3rd incarnation of the timelord.  My favorite was Tom Baker - I liked his scarf and his general joi de vivre - but that's neither here nor there.

I can very clearly recall being afraid enough of the Daleks to lose control of my bladder and wet my pants.  They were so.....ruthless.  They were all logic, they had no emotion.  You couldn't rationalize with a Dalek, you couldn't appeal to their emotional side because they didn't have one.  Yes, I know they were on rollers and couldn't go up steps or stairs which made them slightly disadvantaged, but they were DALEKS.  They were terrifying.  I had nightmares about them.  I hid behind the couch to escape them.  And, during one particularly frightening episode, my 3 year old bladder spasmed in fright and I wet myself.  I got spanked for that, you know.  Dad didn't seem to understand that it was the Dalek's fault.

As I watch the Daleks and the Cybermen wage war against each other on TV this evening I can feel that fear, that terror that I felt as a little girl, awakened in my stomach.  I'm not afraid enough to wet my pants, but I am tempted to grab the nearest throw pillow and hide my face behind it whenever a Dalek is on the screen.  I don't think it would do much good, their voices have a similar effect on me, so I'd have to either turn the channel or leave the room in order to escape from their Dalek-y nastiness - and I'm having far too much fun watching them levitate (ooh!  Stairs are a problem no more!) and be otherwise menacing and ruthless to human and Cyberman alike.

No, I'm not a little girl anymore, so there will be no wetting of pants in my house tonight.  Not over Daleks, anyway.