Sookie and Bill have a good deal of unnervingly realistic sex, not only heating up the cold open but also turning his hair super cute again, and causing Sookie to spend the episode acting like Gidget on Fizzy Lifting Drink. Sookie is slightly bummed out that cashing her v-card brings up the memories of Bartlett's molestation -- and "unknowingly" gets the old shithead killed, courtesy of Mr. Compton -- but does her best to firmly reclaim her sexuality, to the point of giddily telling a bar full of Merlotte's patrons that sex with vampires is, as a matter of fact, intensely awesome.
Less awesome? The continued issues with Jason, as he raids Adele's house -- now Sookie's -- for stuff to hock for V. Lafayette having dried up as a source, deaf even to Jason's offerings of "weiner," Jason takes the inordinately retarded route of visiting Fangtasia! looking for vampire blood. Several people -- dead and undead alike, and including the deliriously awesome Vampire Pam -- try to explain how tacky that is, but he seems determined as ever to get his cute ass killed. Kinda like his sister, announcing her new fangbangertude to the entire town while they're drinking.
Enter Amy, who turns being a refugee from the self-absorbed intellectualizing Seven Sisters corner of Six Feet Under into art. She loves Jason because he's "authentic," digs on the retro semiotics of his truck and house, instructs him in the Gaia theory and basic chemistry, and basically bores the shit out of him, but at least she's holding. Of course, that all changes after they fuck on V, because it's totally meaningful. Thank God she's played by the inhumanly perfect and delightful Lizzy Caplan, or she'd be fucking unbearable instead of grimly hilarious.
Oh, Sam Watch. Well, he's even hotter this week in the Tara scenes, but his requisite weirdness involves running naked through the trees. If he's not a werewolf or something, I'm going to be bummed out, because if you add it all up any other way he's just, like, a total weirdo.
Tara is content to ignore all her mother's demon talk until a couple of super-intense freakouts -- including an unbelievably distressing breakdown in the middle of a bank -- convince her to pay a beautiful, crooked forest witch to exorcise the thing by putting it into a possum, then drowning it. After a few false starts with Sam, though, I think she's going to be tempted to take a look at her own demons, and possibly put them in a possum.
Also attempting to scapegoat their shit into dead things are cutie-pie Royce and his white trash brethren, last seen getting their asses handed to them by a juiced-up Lafayette and chowing on AIDSburgers. When their vampire opposites -- Diane, Liam and dear old Malcolm -- move into town looking for some affection from Bill, he's forced to go with them as a ploy to keep Sookie and Merlotte's safe. The rednecks retaliate for their Tackiness by napalming their nest. The bad news? There was a fourth man in the fire: presumably, Bill Compton.
Anyway, amazing episode. Next week: I'm so sure! Bill is in no way dead, Longshadow and Eric continue to act like dicks, and Pam finally gets to show off one of her impressive collection of adorable twinsets.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!
"Show me how you do that trick," she said. And he did: and all the fear, and pain, and loneliness, drained out of her and into him. Like a possum in a witch's cauldron: strange as angels, dancing in the deepest oceans, twisting in the water. When we talk about the sacrifice, about the deepest magic humans ever know, we're not talking about expelling, banishing, fear, ugliness. That's just a byproduct. What we're talking about is reclamation of what we already have. What we've always had. Your body is your playground and your temple, and it is your home. Just like Heaven.
Bill licks at her blood and buries his fangs deep. "Do it," she said. She wanted him to. She wanted to know that her body was her territory, that she could with it what she wanted. She needed someone to remind her that they never took it from her; that it was hers all along. Her beautiful body, and her beautiful soul: only remember that you are clean, no matter what happens. You are pure, and you deserve happiness. That nobody can take away your body: they can only fool you into thinking that they've won.
The soul is not found within the body. The body rests inside the soul. And no matter what they tell you, no matter how they try to take it from you, mark it, burn it black, turn yourself against yourself, that's one thing we will always know. Somewhere quiet and secret, saying, "You can come home." That there's not a room in your house that remains locked to you; there's not a place in your soul or in your body that doesn't completely belong to you. It is impossible to mark a soul or take it for your own. There is no devil that can do that; no demon that can take possession, that doesn't know the truth and fear always that we'll rout it out.
He looks into her eyes, with his fangs out, and takes her virginity. Finally, finally home. She arches up against it, kissing him hungrily; after a moment they relax into the memory and the knowledge of home. They are strange angels, lit by the fire, redrawing maps and marking out their territory. He is just the guide: he shows her where she could have lived, inside that lovely little house. The infinite landscape between his teeth and her hands, pulling hard at him, pushing him deeper: an expanse of skin, a territory of desire, a country she'd forgotten about. They are lovely in the firelight. I think there are two kinds of people: those that know this story -- knew it the second Sookie tightened her grip on Tara at the funeral -- and the lucky ones that don't. But no matter how weird you find Sookie's behavior in this episode, you should know this: She is unmarked and was never otherwise. The only tragedy is that she never even knew it. This -- the blood, the fucking, all of it -- it's not pollution, it's a reminder of our purity. No ritual is empty. I don't know how else we heal.
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