Jason hobbles through the offices toward the bathroom, leans on the sink, stares down at his giant boner. The release of the pressure as he unzips his jeans is almost too much. Back in the office, Andy complains that Bud laughed at him; Bud says it's only funny because this is pointless. Jason stares down, and touches it, breathing hard. I mean to say that something dead has come to life again, blood pulsing through it, and it's hungry, and it doesn't care who it destroys to feed its hunger. Hot as a fever, hot as rain. It's hunger that sees no difference between pleasure and pain, not because they are connected but because they are both irrelevant: The thing Jason's always been afraid is coming true. In his pants.

"Bud, we got two dead girls and this dumbfuck admits to sleeping with both of 'em within hours before they were killed." But on the other hand, Bud points out, they also had vampire bites on them, and Jason's not a vampire. Not exactly. Jason comes for the first time and drops to the floor, screaming. He writhes, moaning, as Bud and Andy hotfoot it toward the bathroom door. Andy tries, and starts knocking and yelling; Jason tries desperately to clean himself off, moaning quietly to himself and trying to stall.

Tara parks right outside the police station, and comes looking for Jason immediately. "You charging him with anything? I assume he's been properly Mirandized?" Blank stares. "Tell me you informed him he has a right to have an attorney present." Andy giggles to himself that this is no longer a concern, now that she's arrived; Tara stares him down. "Is that funny because I'm a woman? Or because I'm a black woman?" Andy says it's funny for neither reason, but because she talks like a lawyer from television. "How do you know all this anyway?" asks Bud. "You been taking night classes?" Tara blows them off, and is awesome: "School is just for white people looking for other white people to read to them. I figured I'd save my money and read to myself."