The room is not only silver-locked but light-tight, all the amenities including some gay vampercrombies outside to keep him in there, and answer to his every whim. Of course Bill is all about the niceties -- "Guests can leave of their own accord!" -- and whatever, but Russell says he's just there to hear a proposal. Talbot rushes Russell away to bed, since he's been getting the Bleeds lately from staying up too late, and sweetly tells Bill good night. Outside, Russell mutters darkly that he might have to "bring in the girl." I hope he doesn't mean Sookie, because so far this is the only time I've ever thought Bill was awesome and I'm not super anxious for them to get back together just yet.

Tara is still not into the hospital, even as Lafayette is driving her there, but her reasoning is actually really sound, and takes the form of the following syllogism: 1) She barfed up everything already, so there's no need for a pump; 2) They are going to pump her full of drugs on suicide watch and get her to tell them the truth; 3) The truth will cause them to lock her up forever, because here's the truth:

After my exorcism by a gnarled boxcar hobo/hedge witch in which I stabbed a little girl, I donned my old prom dress and nearly ran over a naked woman with dinosaur claws who -- when she wasn't deflowering shapeshifters -- occasionally sported the head of a bull. Thence, I was made privy to an ongoing social worker/carny-style intervention which included a porcine manservant, magical feasts in a huge imaginary mansion, and Domestic Violence Stew made from the heart of a girl who was sometimes a fawn. Eventually, I attained the level of High Priestess in an orgiastic cult dedicated to bringing about the incarnate return of the God Dionysus, which office I shared with my boyfriend, a zombie serial killer and avid blues guitarist. I was also in charge of carrying the giant egg.

(I will never understand people who complain about the Maryann storyline moving too slow. That shit was intense!) Lafayette agrees, but wants Tara to think about how Eggs would want her to live. Eggs, she points out, doesn't want shit. In addition, the one time in her entire life she thought she was happy -- this one hurt -- she was "a fucking zombie." So does that mean she's just broken, factory defective? Lafayette, who knows from having the deck stacked against you, points out that life is less about having problems, and more about dealing with the ones you've got. He promises to, if he must, "drag [her] narrow ass through this world kicking and screaming," and reminds her (in a radical and sort of missing-the-point reinterpretation of the text) that the Buddha said life is suffering. "Don't mean you get to check out early and leave me here." He decides to feed her, and then show her something even scarier than Maryann before her coffee.