Shields: Georgia, no more doom daughter, no more whimpering, no more drinking...
Georgia: And no more men?
Tara slams the door and drives away: "They're out." They don't have what can fix you. We thought there was medicine, we thought there was salvation, that thing in your gut, that nasty old snake would stop turning and twisting in you, but it was a mistake. They're all out of salvation today.
Rene and Arlene are adorable, dancing, and Andy Bellefleur's drinking a Diet Coke; Sookie's on the sidelines as always, drinking Orange Crush in a bottle. Terry wanders up and doesn't say anything for awhile; they look at each other like the two village idiots that they are, and finally he explains that he would be asking her to dance, except he doesn't dance. She thanks him anyhow, and attempts to have a conversation with him. "Sometimes, crowds makes me feel guilty for not having fun like everyone else? And then I feel guilty for feeling guilty." Terry responds to this open-handed sort of friendliness with another non sequitur: "Guilt is a useless emotion." She considers him; he looks particularly fucked up right now. "Or so I've heard." Sookie wishes Bill were there, desperately pleased to have someone to talk to. "There's some dead people I wish was still around too," he says, staring at a desert a million miles away, and wanders off.
Flesh Fair! Vampires are so ridiculous and they all drive vintage autos, including a disproportionate number of convertibles. There's a scary old hobo clown-looking one, a few hundred white trash strippers, some grunge refugees, a bunch of beer-belly truckers, some people from Juniper Creek, a girl with Fat British Face disease, an old man in a tuxedo, Betty Suarez, and the main event, the Magister, played by wild roaming hottie Ĺ˝eljko Ivanek, sitting in a chair in the back of an awesome El Camino. Behind him a few heroin-chic hotties pose and crouch on an eighteen-wheeler like that giant bottle of cKone in Times Square that time, and everything is misty and dramatic and stupid. The Magister has a bailiff, Luisa, who is awesome, and there's a hot dude with a thick neck also helping, and what all the vampires are up to is watching Luisa pull out this guy's fangs. He's young, shirtless, on a silver leash, with a sort of gothy fagcore thing happening, and what he did, stupidly, was feed on a human that belonged to another, and that means three months of starvation, until his fangs grow back. Which is so horrible except for how this show is called True Blood and there's this stuff called TruBlood.