Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones

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True Blood 1x03: "Mine"

Today's Journal Birthmonth Flashback: An entry about my mother that involves Lynn Collins in an extremely peripheral way. (She played Portia, you will recall.) But it seems fitting, given that this episode is her blaze of glory.

Recap icons! Bring me links if you make any and I'll post them.

So, previously on "True Blood": Bill saves Sookie from Rattraytion with a few pints of his blood, but his tornado impression is subpar; Bill and Sookie take a long romantic walk through a cemetery, as you do, on their first date; Jason's (still) dumb as rock but (surprisingly) exonerated (for now); Sam may or may not be a werecollie, but he definitely sucks as a stalker; Gran and Tara are awesome.

So. Compton House. Foxy Brown, Sexxor the Bald and some other vampire in a burgundy colored shirt--let's call him the Red Queen, for more reasons than one--are crowded in the doorway ogling Sookie with their fangs out. Red drawls, "Maybe you should come inside," and Sookie's like, "Are you trying to glamour me?" and he's like, "...Yes?" "That don't work on me," Sookie says apologetically. Oh. Their collective dazzle is very chagrined. "So... is Bill available?"

"DIANE!" comes a shout from deeper within the house. "Let her in!" "Fuck him," snarls Foxy. "You have," drawls Red. Oh, Bill.

So the Vampires Three (Diane, Malcolm and Liam--Liam? Seriously? Sexxor's name is Liam?--if you must know) have two tackily scantily-clad human pets lounging around on Bill's good antique sofas, and Bill's sulking in a chair back in the corner. "She smells fuckin' SWEET!" whoops Sexxor the Bald once he gets a whiff of Sookie. Oh, Lord, we've got a dudepire on our hands. They needle Bill about him being a big poser always talking up the virtues of synthetic blood, and look! He's got his own pet! "Wait, she smells like a virgin to me," purrs Foxy. "That's none of your business, you nosy bitch!" snaps Sookie (rrrowr!). "It is my business," exposits Foxy, "because virgin blood is the best tasting blood," and as we know, Sookie can't date. Ever. Well, babies are also pretty good. Sexxor: "I get hard just thinkin' about it!" Dude, go hump something and get out of my face, damn. Meanwhile, Bill clutches the arms of his chair at the sight of them menacing his woman. WELL GO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT THEN! Sexxor manhandles Sookie and shoves her head over to the side so the Vampires Three can all drool over her exposed throat. BILL! LOOK ALIVE, SON! That whole incident with Sookie's near-fatal Rattraytion was bad, but this is starting to look like actual negligence on your part! Edward Cullen would have laid out a glitter-rage beatdown the moment Foxy touched the doorknob. Sexxor would be mincemeat fertilizing the Compton lawn; two years from now, Edward would be winning flower shows with the rare Tattooed Rose. "Ladies first," says Sexxor with unexpected chivalry, BILL, who finally shouts "STOP!" And then he lays out the immortal line, "SUCKY IS MAHN!" Oh dear.

Credits. Antique houses, black panties, rattlesnakes. Testify!

Red apologizes for "disturbing their little arrangement": "That's why I always bring Jerreh with me wherever I go." Jerreh Jerry is the shirtless one in the denim cutoffs, by the way; the other pet is--Janelle? Janella? I thought I heard it both ways, and the IMDB doesn't have the character's name. Anyway, Sexxor demands head from Janelle, who 1) looks like five miles of bad road and 2) complies; I leave the look on Sookie's face for you to imagine. "Aw, she's innocent," laughs Foxy. "SHE'S MINE--" "Yeah, yeah, WE GOT IT," she snaps. Hee! And then she starts taunting Sookie to "serve her master," or whatever. "Can't you see that he's hungry?" "You're more than welcome to have some of Jerreh," Red breaks in. Ah, Southern hospitality.

So Bill's intensing at Sookie over Jerreh's toothsome shoulder with an expression of--I don't even know what, but I kind of want to say embarrassment, and he's about to chomp a swig when Sookie hears Jerry mentally urging Bill on so that he'll be infected with Hep D like the Vampires Three, which is going to fix their little red wagons. Sookie: "STOP HE HAS HEP D! ...What is Hep D?" Jerreh leaps across the room and starts choking Sookie, helpfully monologuing that his boyfriend Marcus got addicted to V and now he's dead and Marcus never would have left Jerreh if not for vampires. Meanwhile, Sexxor is... enjoying himself. Loudly. Dude! Newsbreak! You're infected with Hep D! This could be a problem for you! Red is certainly pissed off about it; he breaks Jerreh's arm and flings him across the room. Then he throws him over his shoulder ("Jerreh, you stupid bitch") and packs up to leave, grumbling that it's a long drive back to Monroe, and Foxy's like, "Isn't ANYONE the least bit interested how this bitch knew about Jerry?" She threatens to make Sookie talk, and Bill's all, "DIANE. YOU FORGET," and Foxy bitches, "She's YOURS. WHATEVER." Okay, the V3 are trying way too hard to be ~*edgy*~, but I kind of love Diane and Malcolm.

"SOOKIE CAN'T TALK YET, can you, sweetheart?" Bill says, looking pointedly at Sookie, who's still lying on the table where Jerreh left off choking her. I'm not sure why in particular Bill wants to keep the vampires from knowing that Sookie's a telepath--I mean, they can already glamour people, and it's not like she can hear them. Maybe we'll hear more about this later, I don't know.

So anyway, the V3 blow this popsicle stand and Bill lifts Sookie up tenderly: "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Their visit was... unexpected." "What's Hep D?" she asks. Hepatitis D, which I was half expecting to be made up, makes vampires weak for about a month; it's up there with silver as one of those vulnerabilities these vampires don't want people to know about. I have a hard time believing that anyone human knows about silver or Hep D or the healing powers of "V juice" without selling the information to the highest tabloid bidder, and then it would end up on CNN, and then the vampires would all be shit up a creek. Maybe the vampires glamour people who know into keeping their mouths shut? I'm probably thinking about this too much.

And then Sookie lays down a gigantic BITCH PLEASE with "And what the hell did you mean, 'SOOKIE IS MINE'?" This is why I love Sookie, because Bella Swan would be all a-swoon at the thought of belonging to someone. "You are my human and I am the only one who can feed on you," Bill clarifies. "YOU CAN'T FEED ON ME!" shouts Sookie. YOU DON'T OWN ME! I DO WHAT I WANT! Bill tries to explain--of course he's not going to feed on her, but the V3 had to think he had claimed Sookie or she would have been up for grabs. So, I mean, you can at least understand the card he was trying to play here. Oh, and one more thing: "You and Diane dated?" For certain values of "dated," sure, I guess. "It was a long time ago," says Bill, as any guy says whenever "YOU SLEPT WITH HER?" comes out of his current girlfriend's mouth. Back in the '30s when Foxy first became a vampire, apparently. "What? GROSS," says Sookie. "Bill... they're all so mean, so..." "Evil," he finishes. Apparently some vampires, like our three here, live together in "nests," which makes them more cruel, more vicious, more blah blah evilcakes blah. "Whereas vampires such as I, who live alone," Bill explains, are much more emo. Sookie shoves the electricians' contact info that she brought at him and says she has to go. "May I kiss you goodnight?" Bill adorables. "NO!" she shouts. "I couldn't stand it after--them!" Aw, DENIED!

Merlotte's. Sam's closing up for the night and he and Tara end up nursing beers of mutual loneliness. Is Sookie getting serious about her vampire? Sam thinks that she'll get over it once she knows Bill better. "I think he's getting pretty damn serious about her," says Tara, telling Sam how Bill came over to the Stackhouses' "all cleaned up and smellin' nice, lookin' like he came outta some piece of shit movie about plantations and shit--did you know he owned slaves? Least he coulda done was apologize to me." How did Mrs. Stackhouse take all this? "She was in seventh heaven--it was fuckin' weird," Tara tells him. And furthermore, "you got no one to blame but yourself" if Sookie ends up with Bill. Tara is fully aware that Sam's been "carryin' a big one for Sookie." ("Carrying a torch" is the expression, in case you're starting to get strange ideas about what Sam's "big one" might be. Although he might be carrying one of those, too.) Sam tries to shut Tara down with "I'm your boss," but Tara retorts, "Don't try to pull that Workin' for the Man shit with me. You shoulda said somethin' and you know it." "How come you never said anything to Jason?" says Sam, who's got Tara's number as well. "Because I am comfortable with Jason bein' right where he is," says Tara. "Which is unattainable. Which is part of my whole fucked-up thing--low self esteem, childhood trauma, blah blah snore." How about some true confessions of your own, Sam? "You know, not everyone wants to lay his guts out on the table," he retorts. "They don't like doing it, but they all want to find someone to do it with," observes Tara.

"I did kind of let Sookie know how I felt the night before last," Sam says timidly. Oh, the hell you did! She knows, but she knows because she heard you thinking about how good she smells! (WAIT IS HE ALL UP IN HER SMELL BECAUSE HE'S A WERECOLLIE?) Also, I'm pretty sure she'd known for a long while because you're REALLY OBVIOUS, Sam. "If I were you," says Tara, "I would get in there right now while I still had a shot." "No, you wouldn't--you just said so yourself." Heh.

And then Sam says, "She can't hear his thoughts." "For real?" cries Tara, laughing. "Well, hell, that explains everything." Sam looks stricken: "I told her she could listen to my thoughts any time she wanted--" "No, see, she doesn't wanna hear anyone's thoughts," says Tara, like, duh, Sam. "And now she's met somebody and she can just relax? Aw, man, you don't stand a chance. I'm really sorry, but you don't." "You can go home any time," snips Sam. "No, I can't. Really," says Tara.

Compton House. There's a knock on the door. "I am truly sorry to bother you, Mr. Compton--William, if I may be so bold?--but it has come to my attention that you, too, have a beautiful young girl that you're trying to surveil," says an angel marble cupcake Adonis on the doorstep. Edward's still jealous of all the unfair advantages Bill's been handed, but his controlling perfectionism hates to see anyone underachieve. "Now, I have considerable experience in this area, if you would like some helpful hints..." Bill gives him another WTF? squint. "I assure you, I was able to save the object of my affections from sudden death umpteen hundred times--we're currently married with a growth-accelerated mutant half-vampire baby, so I know what I'm talking about." Bill... can't really argue with that. He steps aside so that Edward can come in, and as he closes the door, you can hear a faint "Let me show you my scrapbook, 'The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Stalkers'...." drifting down the hall.

House of the Rising Sun. Dawn's giggling in anticipation of finding Jason still tied to her headboard--what, eight hours later? Except that he's not there, and she's grabbed from behind by a guy in... a flowered robe and a black stocking over his head? Seriously, it's like a black and magenta patterned robe. This was the moment I got suspicious, because it looked like someone had pulled his Scary Attacker costume together from what he found on Dawn's bedroom floor. "YOU KEPT ME WAITING. I DON'T LIKE TO WAIT," scaryvoices the intruder. "I NEED TO TASTE YOU AGAIN." "Come on, Jason!" Dawn cries, struggling, but her attacker continues: "I'M READY TO SUCK MORE OF THAT SWEET STUFF OUT OF YOU." You know, if it weren't obvious that the voice isn't Sexxor's, I would think it was a shoo-in to be him with lame-ass lines like that. The intruder throws her down onto the bed and Dawn's kind of starting to get into it until he says, "I JUST DRAINED THAT POOR FUCK YOU LEFT TIED UP TO THE BED." "Oh God, where is he!" Dawn screams. "This isn't happening!" And then the intruder pulls the stocking off his head and it's totally Jason, doing a booty dance of vengeance. "THAT IS NOT FUNNY!" shouts Dawn, slapping him, and then she's punching him in the chest, and then she kind of starts play-fighting him, and Jason echoes the last thing she said to him--"Just think of it as foreplay, baby"--and she does.

Compton House. "You know, stalking Sookie in her dreams was a really nice touch, I have to hand it to you. And that chair you've got back there in the shadows, that is A+ starter material, but you see, it needs to be in the corner of her room, not your room..."

Chez Stackhouse. Sookie sits in her car, choking back tears, and then she pulls herself together so she can walk back up to UNEXPECTED BILL IS UNEXPECTED! "GODDAMMIT, BILL! DO NOT DO THAT!" Whoa, Sookie (Who Is a Lady, Oh My Stars) must be really pissed. "I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional," says Bill anxiously. "I just got here." Which made me laugh for some reason--maybe just the nonchalant way he referred to traveling by speed-mo, I don't know.

"Why can't I hear your thoughts?" demands Sookie. Well, you can't hear any other vampires' thoughts, can you? I would think that would settle the question for everyone. "Do you even have any thoughts?" she snaps (O BURN). "Oh, I have thoughts," rasps Bill (hot), "many lifetimes of thoughts." Okay, really, Bill, I think you've had like maybe two or three lifetimes, tops. Let's not exaggerate here. "So why can't I hear them?" presses Sookie. "I don't know," he says, "perhaps it's because I don't have brainwaves." "WHY NOT?" I don't really blame Bill for being all "BECAUSE I'M DEAD" at this point. His theory, however, is that, while "what animates you no longer animates me," they're both animated by magic ("OH COME ON!"): "You think that it's not magic that keeps you alive? Just because you understand the mechanics of how something works doesn't make it any less of a miracle--which is just another word for magic. We're all kept alive by magic, Sookie. My magic's just a little different from yours, that's all." Aw, that's kind of a nice non-explanation--I mean, at least he didn't get into midichlorians or whatever the shit, sometimes non-explanatory explanations are the best, really--

"I think we need to stop seeing each other," Sookie blurts out. "WHY," says Bill. Like, not a question, just "WHY." I imagine Edward in the Stackhouse bushes cheering him on ("You tell the little woman what to think!"). "Because YOU DON'T BREATHE?" she retorts. Also, he has evil not-friends, vampires obviously killed the Reverend Does Not Speak to Vampires Newlin, and she had to bury her bloody clothes from the other night so Gran wouldn't know that the Rattrays almost killed her (look, that wasn't his fault! Except for the part where his subpar stalking didn't save her before she caught a beating for saving his life! But still!), "and tonight I was almost killed again. Why ON EARTH would I continue seeing you?" In my mind, Bill's looking over at the bushes and Edward's like, "Uh... my dream girl never asked me anything sense-making like that, I don't know what to tell you."

Sookie starts walking away to the front door and Bill stomps up the steps after her and her stiff upper lip trembles a little. "Because you will never find a human man you can be yourself with," he sexyvoices. She just shakes her head and turns to go inside. "Sookie--" "DO NOT TOUCH ME! Just--go. Please."

Now alone in the Stackhouse yard, Bill woes the woe of many lifetimes.

Sad Sam's Sad Trailer. Tara and Sam are kicked back on his front porch drinking companionably. "So... can I ask you a personal question?" asks Sam. I don't know, have you licked any blood outta her head yet? Why can't Tara go home, is what he wants to know. "My momma's a drunk," she explains. "Not just a slurs-her-words drunk. A wakin'-up-in-her-own-vomit drunk. I know she may end up dyin', lightin' herself on fire with a lit cigarette, but I can't deal with that--I won't. So not only is my situation horrible, but the guilt just makes it that much worse." Sam laughs quietly, which isn't going to make a lot of sense unless you know that Tara says all of this in a very self-deprecating, matter-of-fact way--it's an appropriate reaction on his part, in other words. "Why don't you just get your own place?" he asks. "Well, why don't you give me a raise?" she retorts. What about AA? (Man, what is it with men and the problem-solving? Can't you just listen, Sam? Do you not think she's ever considered this before?) "She doesn't need AA, Sam. She's got Jesus." Oh Lord. (Literally.) "Can I ask you a personal question?" she asks in turn. "Yeah... hold on." Sam nervously chugs the last of his booze: "Aight."

"Are you lonely?" she asks. "Yes," he says very quietly. "I am. I am very... very lonely." "How come you don't have a girlfriend? You're hot, you have a job, you're not a serial killer..." "Yeah, who could resist that," he deadpans. "What have you got to hide that's so fuckin' bad? In THIS fuckin' town?" Tara continues (coughWERECOLLIEcough). "Don't you ever get horny?" "Sure," he sputters, "but--!" He admits that it's been "a few months" since he's gotten laid; Tara says that it's been eight weeks and three months for her (and if he asked for days and hours, I'm pretty sure she could supply them as well). "That sucks," Sam agrees. Well, so to speak. Would she like another drink? "Sam, I'm the adult child of an alcoholic," says Tara. "I'll need at least three mo'." And then, after he goes inside, Tara shoots a speculative look after him, takes out her ponytail, and shakes out her braids.

"So maybe you and I should sleep together," she says, sauntering inside. "Tara, that's a terrible idea!" "Aight. WHATEVER," she says, sprawling out on his couch in her long tomboy cutoffs (good Lord, she has long legs). It'll be a one time deal, really (no, really ), and they'll never have to mention it again. Sam invokes the Workin' for the Man Shit again. "Fine," says Tara. "Suit yourself." She waits. He stares at her. "If it gets weird, I'll probably have to let you go," he says weakly. "Big deal! You didn't wanna hire me in the first place." "...Okay," he says. "Yeah?" she says, surprised. "Great." And she chugs her fresh drink and wraps her legs around him: "You feel nice," he says. "Yeah, I know I do" (hee!). Pre-sexory horizontal making out ensues.

House of the Rising Sun, THE MOST AWESOME SCENE EVER. Cut to wild, graphic, foot-licking sex at Dawn's house. Except that then Jason starts to imagine Sexxor the Bald tongue-waggling down there beneath him and instantly goes limp. "What is it, baby?" asks Dawn sympathetically. "I hate that you've been with vampires," Jason bitches, which is so the wrong thing to say. "They're fuckin' dead!" "YOU fuck anything with a space between its legs!" Dawn fires back. We do find out that she did not sleep with Sexxor the Bald, at least--"actually, [this vampire] had a lot of hair. I met him in Shreveport... at the vampire bar. I'm not ashamed," she adds defiantly, although she kind of sounds like maybe she's not too proud of having gone to a vampire bar, which was probably wall-to-wall Hot Topic. (Just y'all wait till the next episode, is all I have to say about that.) "Well, you should be!" says Jason. "Is that who you thought I was?" "No, I knew all along it was you, baby," Dawn insists. Jason: "You're a lyin' sack of shit. You woulda let him fuck you and bite you--"

OH MY GOD HOLD ON TIGHT BECAUSE THIS IS SO AWESOME. "Okay, now, this? Is gettin' borin'," announces Dawn. She flounces out of bed and jerks on a robe and underwear. "Believe it or not, Jason, the world does not revolve around your dick." SING IT, GIRL. EMBROIDER IT ON A PILLOW. "Where you goin'?" calls Jason. "TO GET A CIGARETTE!" bawls Dawn, and--I can't really describe it, it's just the ugliest, shrillest, realest tone of voice. It's almost fantastic enough to distract you from the sight of Jason flinging away the now-unwanted used condom (EW HBO, WTF, SERIOUSLY). Also, apparently Dawn smokes bullets, because now she's pointing a gun straight at him. Jason giggles, because he has NO IDEA. "You do not own me, Jason Stackhouse," she declares. "If I want you outta my house, you better get your sorry ass outta here." "I ain't goin' nowhere--" "Oh yes you are." BANG! I am telling you, you have never seen a man scramble as fast as Jason at this moment. "You are obnoxious and full of yourself and DUMBER THAN A BOX A' HAIR. AND NOW YOU CAN'T EVEN GET IT UP?" Oh my shit it's too awesome I can't stand it. "You're fuckin' crazy," gasps Jason. "You bet your sweet ass I am. Now get THE FUCK OUTTA MY HOUSE!" "Lemme get my pants on," flails Jason. "Maybe I don't feel like waitin'!" BANG!

So Jason's hopping half-panted down the front walk and Dawn's hanging out the door shouting, "GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY HOUSE, LIMPDICK MOTHERFUCKER!" "I CAN GET IT UP!" roars Jason, right as a nosy neighbor lady switches on the porch light and pokes her head out the door. Nice.

"Goddamn bloodsuckers," he mutters in his car, and then he punches the roof: "FUUUUCK!"

Compton House. The door, from our point of view, opens and we look around the quaint old-fashioned house and wander through until we find--aw, Bill's all by himself reading. I like a readin' man. Maybe if the werecollie'd crack a book now and then I'd root for him. He whips around with his fangs out--"Sookie, don't ever sneak up on a vampire!" Sookie's in... a short nightdress? I think it's a nightdress. It's kind of hard to tell because it looks as insubstantial as everything else she wears. "What are you doin' here?"

Sookie takes a deep breath and then plunges forward: "All right, here's the deal, and this is embarrassing, but I've never been intimate with a man for all the reasons I told you, but I feel things when I'm with you and I know this could be a huge mistake, one that I could regret forever, but I feel like you're the one I'm supposed to, you know, do it with and I'm really nervous about that and frankly I'm scared to death of you, so could we just get it out of the way so I can relax and get a good night's sleep?" Best. Attempt. At Seduction. Ever. Certainly it seems to be working on Bill. "Just don't bite me, okay?" she says timidly. So pre-sexory vertical making out ensues, and he takes off her nightdress, and Sookie enjoys some unspecified interaction below frame (cough), and... there she is alone in her own bed, touching herself. Oh... dear. She wakes up to find the cat staring at her: "Stop that!"

Sad Sam's Sad Trailer of Mutually Beneficial Friends. Tara wakes up in Sam's bed to realize that he's... growling. Like... sleep-woofing.

Meanwhile, Jason goes home and chugs a beer (does he live with Gran? I think he may live on his own, but I'm not sure), but nothing but vampire movies and vampire news and nature shows about vampire bats is on TV there in the middle of the night. The Reverend Newlin's son is on a Christian channel talking about how his father was assassinated by vampires as part of what will be World War III, the coming Armageddon, "Amen!" "Amen!" says Jason, rolling his eyes.

Lair of the Vampires Three. I'm guessing this is up (down?) in Monroe? We see three closed coffins laid out in the living room with candles flickering on them. (So do they have to sleep in the coffins, or is that just ironic goth decor?) "Dayum," drawls Red, lying back in a sympathetic Foxy's lap, "I really liked Jerreh."

You know, when I was in New Orleans the year before Katrina, the Lovely Emily and I stayed with our friend Marcus from college, and the night we got there, he gave us an hour to do the tourist thing on Bourbon Street before he insisted that we go uptown to somewhere less lame, and we had booze in giant plastic pineapples. I'm just saying, when Sexxor comes in chugging from a giant pitcher of blood, that's what I flashed back to. "Let's go down to LSU and raid us a frat house!" he dudes. Red kicks his feet in anticipation. "Yes! I'm in the mood for somethin' dumb, thick, and juicy," enthuses Foxy. Hey, would you be interested in some vampire hatesex with Jason?

So here's Bill now banging down their door, having driven (speed-moed?) all the way to Monroe, one would assume, to bitch at them for stepping on his action. "Oh, look, it's everyone's favorite buzzkill," drawls Red, because he is not capable of speaking in any other way. Bless. "Hey baby," purrs Foxy. "Mr. Mainstream!" says Sexxor cheerfully, offering him the giant pitcher. Foxy also offers Bill a little somethin'-somethin' else, recalling that he had "a very sizable... appetite," so... Bill throws her across the room? Honey, I think that was a compliment. Anyway, Bill throws her across the room, Diane smashes through a door and comes up pissed (and with splinters in her hair), but Bill breaks it on down: "The three of you will stay away from me and Sookie from now on." Well, assuming there's a "me and Sookie" to stay away from. "I'm your elder. You have no authority here," declares Red (see, I told you he was a queen). "There are higher authorities," says Bill. "I'm not afraid of Eric," Red pish-poshes. "Higher'n him." "Well, then SHE can speak to me." Oooh, intriguing.

"Not everyone wants to dress up and play human, Bill," sasses Foxy. Bill insists that now that vampires have gone public, they have to moderate, not exsanguinate, but Red points out that not everyone was on board with the whole coming-out decision: "Honey, if we can't kill, what's the point of being a vampire?" (I told you I liked him.) Bill does not really have an answer for this, so he non-sequiturs, "Where's Jerry?" "We left him on the side of I-20," mourns Red. "Well, most of him, anyway. I kept a souvenir or two." Foxy laughs ostentatiously, and Sexxor adds that "Janelle felt so bad about what Jerry did that she made the ultimate sacrifice." Yeah, that's her hanging upside down, mummied up in Saran Wrap, draining from a hook in the bathroom ceiling. Cheers! "You know, y'all make me sick," says Bill. "You used to be fun," snarls Foxy. "Is this all on account of that little blonde breather?" "If you insist on flaunting your ways in front of mortals, there will be consequences," Bill says quietly, which is his cue to leave.

(Red: "Asshole.")

Sad Trailer of Mutually Beneficial Mornings After. Sam wakes up and is surprised, for some reason, to find that Tara's already gone. WERECOLLIE.

Tara's house. Tara returns home to get immediately whacked upside the head by her crazy, crazy, drunk, crazy mother: "Where you been, you dirty whore!" "Jesus!" Tara yelps, and her mother shouts, "Jesus ain't gonna help you!" And then she falls down and tells Tara to stop sassin' the Lord. Tara, who must have the patience of a saint, loses it for now and calls her mother a "pathetic ugly ol' bitch." Her mother starts crying and wails, as Tara hugs her, "I ain't ugly!" Also: "If Jesus was here, he'd apologize to me for givin' me such a spiteful child!" "Are you kiddin'?" says Tara wearily. "If Jesus was here, he wouldn't step inside this house, not with the way you smell." Then Tara's mother craftily seizes a bottle and cracks Tara upside the skull. "WHO'S UGLY NOW!" So Tara delivers her Dramatic Exit Speech: "You may have carried me and nursed me, but obviously you are now set on killin' me, and if I am forced to chose between you and me, guess what? YOU LOSE."

(I'm not entirely sure I liked that scene--I mean, I see what they're going for, but it's like it's played too broadly or something. Or it wants to be both funny and dramatic and it's not fully succeeding at either. I don't know, I can't really put my finger on it.)

Chez Stackhouse. Gran comes out with a glass of lemonade to find Sookie is mowing the lawn. In fact, it's 9 am and she's has already mowed every other lawn in a five-mile radius. "Are you concerned about the vampire--Sookie, has he done something untoward?" "No, not at all!" she says (actually, I think the problem is that Sookie needs more untowardness in her life). "I'm just thinking... what I'm thinking is staying away, but what I'm feeling with... my whole body... is... something else entirely." "Oh," says Gran. "And I don't know whether to trust my head or..." "Heart," Gran says firmly. "Yeah." Well, that is a dilemma! Gran will solve it with breakfast.

The werecollie is totally watching them from the bushes, by the way.

Lafayette's Lair of Fabulosity. "Who is beatin' down my mo-fuckin' door!" It's Tara, and she storms in shouting, "She hit me with a fuckin' liquor bottle!" "You just wanna put some peroxide on that," Lafayette says soothingly, "then take two Vicodin with a BIG glass o' red wine, and smoke some baaaad ganja, baby, and by the time you wake up: all healed." I thought he was kidding, but he actually supplies Tara with all the necessaries (well, a bottle of vodka instead of a glass of wine). "Do you mind if I stay here for a while?" asks Tara, gulping down her painkillers. "Does it matter if I mind?" "No." So... staying at Lafayette's we are, then. And a middle-aged white man comes out of Lafayette's bedroom, indicating that he has left "the--uh--yeah" back in there. "Hi," he says to Tara, holding out his hand. "Duke Smith." "Boyfriend, you are so not a Duke," teases Lafayette. And then he offers Duke Smith a drag of their joint, which he puffs on gamely, "for the road." "The hell was that?" demands Tara once he's gone. "That was a state senator." "So you're a prostitute now?" "I'm an entrepreneur," corrects Lafayette, "and this body's gonna be my fuckin' ticket." "So you're a senator-fuckin' prostitute and I'm a bartender who fucks her boss--who's in love with her best friend," deadpans Tara. Wait for it--wait for it: "Waaaaait. You slept with Sam?" Here's Tara's idea of confirmation: "You know what? He barks in his sleep." Lafayette's reaction is surprisingly calm: "Oh, damn, white people just all fucked up."

Sad Sam's Sad Trailer. The werecollie returns home and... plays catch with Sam? Very clearly, the two of them together in the same shot? OH WHATEVER, SHOW! Sam is the werest collie that ever werecollied and you can't tell me otherwise. And it's totally cheating if you get your doggie BFF to pick up a stalker shift for you, SAM. "Aw, hey, what's up, my brother?" Sam says, ruffling the dog's fur. I AM TAKING THAT LITERALLY UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

(On the subject of canine relatives, this seems as good a time as any to show you my favorite Twilight macro.)

("You know what I really wish would come to Marthaville?" sighs Sam over his morning paper. "Buffy... or Blade...")

Breakfast, Chez Stackhouse. Gran and Sookie discuss how everything happens for a reason, such as people getting more calcium from their overpriced overfancy Starbucks lattes. Sookie asks if Gran thinks she should continue seeing Bill, to which Gran warmly talks up Bill as "a smart, handsome, and very polite young man" (...wait) "but of course he's gonna show his best side to me so that I won't get in the way of courtin' you." You know, between the courting and the calling-on, I think maybe Gran and Bill are meant to be. "He scares me," Sookie says plaintively. Gran: "Well, it's scary, opening your heart up to somebody." Y'all, any time Gran says something in this scene, just imagine me with a big ol' o_O face. Anyway, Sookie notes that vampires are a little scarier than regular guys (O RLY), but "I'm not scared that he would hurt me. I'm scared because... because I don't know what he's thinking." OH SOOKIE. Gran tells her that might not be such a bad thing, adding her that Sookie's grandfather also used to "know things." WELL THANKS FOR EVER TELLING SOOKIE THIS BEFORE. Anyway, Sookie's Great Uncle Francis apparently came back from the Korean War all messed up in the head, but Sookie's grandfather "just knew" one night that something bad was going to happen and managed to get over to his brother's house right before Francis could hang himself ("The noose was already around his neck!"). Aw, there is a purpose for everything that God creates! Even telepaths and vampires and Starbucks! Wait, didn't Great Uncle Francis kill himself with a shotgun? "Oh, yes, he did, but that was years later." D:<

Lafayette's Lair. More banging on the door: "WHAT THE DAMN FUCK--well hello, hotness." It's Jason, stammering, "I need your help." "I am so glad you have finally recognized that truth," beams Lafayette. "You're... wearing gold pants," says Jason. Well spotted, Captain Obvious. Anyway, apparently Lafayette is the town dealer extraordinaire, in addition to being a short-order cook, a construction worker, and a senator-fucking prostitute. He's a renaissance man for our times, really. What does Jason want? Viagra. "What? Jason, puppydog--Viagra is legal. You can buy it in the drugsto'." Yeah, but that would be embarrassing. Isn't there anything Lafayette has in stock that can help? "You want wood so hard a saw can cut through it?" "Yeah," says Jason, "that sounds good... I think?" I can't really blame him for not being sure about that one. So Lafayette opens his Sekrit Dealer Fridge and pulls out a tiny vial of vampire blood: "Six hundred dollars a quarter of an ounce. The vamps don't take kindly to the juice dispenser," he explains when Jason starts squawking. How'd he get it? Oh, he has an arrangement with "a certain life-challenged individual" (...?) who appreciates his many... talents. "One, MAYBE two drops of this," Lafayette instructs Jason, because "any more and things will get a little intense and I don't mean in a good way," and it is at this point that you know, YOU KNOW, that this is going to end badly.

So how's Jason going to pay for this delicacy? Well, Lafayette has a video camera and a website, see, and "queens all over the world would pay good! money! just to watch you jack off." HEY! THE AGREEMENT WAS JUST THAT JASON WOULD DANCE! So dance, fool. So here's Jason, naked except for a pair of tighty-whities and a creepy Halloween mask (so no one in Bon Temps will know it's him, of course. Except maybe the 50,000 women who would recognize him from the neck down). He starts snapping his fingers forlornly before kind of getting into it while the techno music in the background is chanting, I like! to do! manly! things! "Ooh, lover, you gonna make me clutch my pearls," squees Lafayette, and Tara peers through a bead curtain to see what the hell is going on in there and mutters, and I quote, "What the fuck?"

I know, Tara. I know.

Compton House. It's broad daylight, so I don't know what Sookie's planning on doing, since Bill is obviously going to be indisposed. She peers in through the windows in the front door to the lonesome interior of the old house, but no coffins or adorably ashy gentleman vampires are visible (okay, the woevolins are just hamming it up now), so Sookie... sits down on Bill's porch steps, gets turned on by the colors of the trees, lays back and starts stroking the inside of her thigh. Wait, what?

Her cell phone rings; it's Sam. Dawn didn't show up for the lunch shift; could Sookie go wake her up?

House of the Rising Sun. "Dawn? It's me, Sookie? Honey, you overslept!" Sookie gets no answer, so she creeps inside the house and finds Dawn sprawled out on her bed with her eyes open. And unlike Maudette when Jason not-killed her, Dawn really does have finger-shaped bruises on her throat. Sookie stands there for five minutes going "Dawn? Dawn? Dawn? Dawn? Dawn?" And then it sinks in and she lets out a sudden bloodcurdling scream. Sookie, sweetheart, this is why people think you're slow.

Previews: Fangtasia, yay!

(Continue: 1x04 "Escape from Dragon House.")

(All True Blood recaps.)

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