An unhappy woman stares at Sookie: (You seem sad that girl is dead. I wonder if y'all were friends. And if you were, that means you're probably next. Fucking fangbangers. Crazy, every last one of you. Just like those women who write love letters to serial killers...) Sookie can't handle it, the heat behind it, and takes off, leaving the woman asking aloud for her ranch dressing. Ugh. Ranch dressing is like a disease, or heterosexuality. I won't have it in the house, and I don't understand how people even thought of it.
Arlene orders two margaritas and bitches about how Dawn left them high and dry. Sookie is, of course, appalled, and points out that Dawn wasn't exactly working according to a plan when she got her ass murdered. "I know, but if she didn't spend her nights off at that vamp bar in Shreveport, she still would be." Sookie stares her down and tells her to be ashamed of herself. Arlene asks if there's not even a tiny part of Sookie that knows she was asking for it; Sookie steals her ranch dressing for the awful woman and takes off.
Tara rushes in, having taken Jason home, and her gigantic arm muscles bulge as she very deliberately ties her apron without looking at poor Sam. He says they should probably talk, about how they randomly had sex, but she tells him in no uncertain terms to forget it, and not because she's gaming him: "I'm gonna make it very, very easy. Nothing happened between us last night. And if anybody asks, you didn't see me at all, okay? I'm telling people I spent the night with Jason." Sam's shocked, and Tara tells him to keep quiet. Even Tara is kind of amazed by this latest weirdo thing she's done, but she won't take any guff from Sam about it: "There's more to Jason than meets than eye," she says, this close to hysteria. "Deep down he is a very good person!"
Jason does some very good masturbating and drinks a very good beer at home. Unsurprisingly, it's a threesome porno: two guys, one of them bald. Crazy-eyed. Jason groans and comes. There's nothing lovely about it, nothing fun: just compulsion. Sexual addiction is hilarious until you realize there's not really any sex in it. I don't think Jason's ever had sex in his life, not really. Just watched Jason fucking. His dick forgets ejaculating, and he almost cries, shouting desperately, "Go fucking down!" He wipes off, and starts up again. He's actually reached the end of the porno, a place no man has ever seen. His eyes roll back as the tape ends and the TV cuts to the news: "In Iraq today, ten US Marines were killed..." There's a huge blister on his thumb. There's no sex here, at the end of sex. "Ah, motherfucker..." He stares down at it, and begins to cry. "Oh, baby. My sweet, sweet baby."