"Look, I will pay however you want. I'll even show my wiener on your website." Lafayette tells him to take his "little stumpy white dick" and get the fuck up out his joint, and that's what he "wants." Jason starts getting weird, in that redneck way he always goes for, when he's cornered, which is straight-up white boy entitlement: "And what you gonna do? Hmm?" Lafayette dares him. "You gonna call the law?" Before he can do much more than get the minifridge open, Lafayette's got his arms behind his head. "Don't fucking fuck me, motherfucker. Hear me?" Jason submits. "Because I will fuck your ass up. You get me?" Lafayette throws him across the door, against the frame. "Get the fuck up out of here." One source down, and Jason can't even see the lesson he's being taught. "Aw, can you at least tell me where I can find some more?" Lafayette tells him honestly, as a guide will. "Go to the fucking morgue, because that's where you're going. Get the fuck outta here." Jason slinks away. "Bitch." Man, I really thought Jason would at least let him go downtown like one time on this little junkie journey, but that would damage Lafayette's character way more than poor Jason. We don't shit where we eat.

Well, sometimes we do. Bill opens his secret compartment, pushing open a clicking wall and showing her a ragged carpet, and the tiny place beneath it: "This is where I spend my days." Sookie asks if anybody ever gets in there with him: it looks tight. "This is not a place for you," he says. It's where he's dead. Every dawn he dies, and he's dead until dusk. "So we can never sleep beside each other," she says. The meridian. She belongs to the day; you can smell the sunlight on her skin. It's not about wearing white or anything like that: we live in a day world. She doesn't belong in his place of death. Sleep there, eat some pomegranate seeds, stay down there forever. And then they wouldn't love each other anymore, because they'd be dead together. Giving up the sun, even if she stayed human, is not an option. Consolation? "No one else knows where I rest." Not a bad trade, all things considered. He kisses her, and hilariously keeps his eyes on hers, super intense and silly, as he's lying down in his hidey-hole, in the cold ground. (He is vampire!) She's sorry to see him go, but once he's gone, with his creepy-funny googly eyes, she looks around the world with a new sense of herself. While he's dead she owns this house; while he's gone she owns the world. Without someone else in the room she can feel her soul, how it stretches out around her; the enormity of the world, and territory hard-earned. She owns this part of him, and of herself, and she's wearing his shirt, and the day has just begun.