So the Fuck You Crew werewolves -- who apparently predate WWII, drink V, and have been for a long time whatever's worse than Nazis -- are working for the King of Mississippi, Russell Edgington, who has nabbed Bill to offer him a job as Sheriff of Area Two, in exchange for Queen Sophie-Anne's hand in vampire marriage. Russell is part of the gayest gay couple in all of Gaytown, and mostly what they do is run around dressed like foxhunt toffs. They're sort of amazing, not least because it's hard to out-gay the wolfed-out rough trade from last week, but somehow they manage. So after a hilarious three-course blood dinner (from the tangerine-fed sparkling aperitif to the palate-cleansing gelato), Lorena shows up, and says about three words before Bill sets that bitch on fire.

Lafayette interrupts Tara's suicide attempt and takes her to see his own fucked-up mom, Ruby Jean (Alfre!) who is being tended by the hottest man in television, Kevin Alejandro. Tara takes his point -- that their family is crazy from way back, and they are the only sane ones -- but then meets the mysterious Franklin Mott, who is in town to investigate (of course) Sookie, but seems open to obsessing on Tara as well. They beat the living shit out of some rednecks, and from what it looks like, it seems Tara's darker impulses might be telling her the next best thing to suicide could be dating the dead.

Jessica gets some vamp advice from Pam, who finally finds her adorable, and then heads home to a makeup sixer from Hoyt. They continue to be the most romantic thing that ever happened in the entirety of history. But what with the dead man under her floorboards -- with whom she sleeps the first night, given her lack of options -- she's not really open for business just now. Next night, she heads out to buy a chainsaw, but finds the body missing and strange creaking in the house.

Sam finally meets the Mickens clan formally, and it's a lot less awful than you might expect. Mom's a shifter, Dad's "regular" but in the know, and little bro Tommy is a shifter, too. Tommy is ambivalent, even given Sam's freaky niceness and heartbreaking generosity of spirit, and possibly takes Sam on a doggie run so that he can get run over by a truck. Needless to say, there's gotta be more to the story, but having such a warm welcome was a pretty nice beat in the unending action of this one.

While Arlene continues to ice Terry out, thanks to her morning sickness and general inabilities with men, Jason and Andy do the whole father/son thing some more. Jason loves that he's not getting in trouble for the Eggs thing, but jealous that Andy's getting all the attention without the accompanying PTSD. Finally, he gets so drunk that Andy has to take him on a police call to Hotshot, a small horrific meth-lab of a town outside Bon Temps where all the people are inbred and creepy -- even the sweet ones, like Cal Norrington, or the mysterious ones like Crystal, whom Jason follows drunkenly into the woods a bit before tackling his first drug dealer.

Sookie is still pretty awesome -- chasing a werewolf into the woods at one point screaming at the top of her lungs -- but soon enough gets back to making everything, even Terry's feelings for Arlene, into a metaphor about herself. She visits Eric and cries about Bill, wounding him deeply, and eventually he comes clean about Operation Werwolf -- the Nazi werewolf drainers, whom he had a long-term grudge match back in the Godric days. In the end, she has managed to let Terry know about werewolves, and invited Eric into her home... where a wolf is waiting. Eric jumps into battle, and Sookie fires Terry's gun into the melee. Note to Sookie: It's a lot easier to cut down on how many people get murdered in your kitchen when you're not the one shooting them.

Next week: Alcide. Finally.