Norma: "Sure! Awesome. Room nine every eighth week? I'll just type that into the..."
Jake: "The whole motel, actually. First week of every other month."
Norma: "Blackout dates are... Well, I guess I'll be getting paid either way, so you're on."
Norma: "So this is what, like for the other people you work with?"
Jake: "Kind of!"
Norma: "What kind of business are you in, again?"
Norma: "Sales. And you always pay in cash..."
Jake: "And no room service. Nobody fucking around. We like privacy."
Norma: "And there's that... Listen, this sounds pretty much like the most illegal thing in the entire world, actually."
Jake: "Don't be silly!"
Norma: "Okay I won't!"
On his way home, feeling whatever is opposite of his last triumphant return from Bradley's but at least not permanently relinquishing his mind to anybody, Norman spots Juno on the road, and she's happy to see him, and then you know what happens next and it's just too awful. He's crying with his most cryface-face ever, carrying this limp dead dog, the guy who ran over her feels bad, but not that bad, Norma comes running out with her Spidey-Sense all activated by Norman's feelings, and Norman's just screaming his head off, walking like a zombie.
Norma: "Norman, get out of the street, what are you doing?"
Norman: "I killed my dog! I'm taking her to Emma's dad. He can fix dead things."
I don't know why -- I mean, I totally know why, but you know what I mean -- that sent a shiver down the spine, just that particular wording. It's creepy in a way that's specific to the overall legend and franchise, but also... oh, honey. No he can't. That's an angle I hadn't thought of: We use taxidermy to hold onto things, after they're gone. To pretend we never lost them. Because we lose so much anyway. He can fix dead things.
Norma: "Well, this is crazy."
Norman: "IT IS NOT FUCKING CRAZY."
Norma: "Whoa, the black eyes. Okay, I'll get the car. Jesus."
Terrified for him, she runs for the car, and he stands there with her in his arms: His first victim. The first one he killed out of love, instead of anger. The first one that counts.
Norman, weeping: "I was wrong, Mother. About everything."
Norma: "Oh. I'm so sorry, honey."