"Eddie, where you at? I'm at your crib, the door was wide open. This is fucked up as fuck. Call me when you get this message, bitch." Lafayette paces around Eddie's house, nervous and worried for a variety of reasons. The rug is all curled up where they kidnapped him, the remote is broken on the floor. "Jason fucking Stackhouse, you bigmouth motherfucker..."
Arlene begs Rene to let her rest, stop dancing for awhile, but he pushes: "What, you won't dance with me? That's a fine thing at your own fais do-do!" She rubs his weird little goat beard, like for luck, and sends him to dance with Sookie, awesome: "Poor thing's got nobody here. Everyone's afraid of her!" She pushes him but he goes, smiling, and tells Sookie she looks lonely as a cloud. He leads her to the floor and Sookie tells him that Arlene's one lucky lady; when he bashfully says not everyone likes a coonass like him, she immediately says she does. "So does Bill! Rene thinks about how to approach it, now that she's opened the door, and mumbles a bit at first. "I don't have nothing against vampires, you know that. But you're a good girl, Sookie. I think you deserve better." She's about to tell him what for when Sam appears and cuts in; Rene twirls her into Sam's arms and her face becomes a mask. It's adorable; it's as cold as a new razor blade. He begs her to stop stonewalling him -- "It's not fair, you being mad about something I can't help" -- and she finally looks at him: "I'm mad that you didn't trust me enough to tell me. You hid the most important thing about yourself!"
Sam protests that it hardly matters, since she's with Bill now, and she retorts that he didn't tell her about Tara, either. "Because there's nothing to tell!" he says, lying, and she asks if Tara's aware of the "nothing" she represents. "Or the fact that you can turn into a dog?" He says it's none of Tara's business, and finally gets tired of the bullshit. "And you know what, I didn't tell you because I knew this is how you'd react. But you're right. I didn't trust you, I trusted my instincts, and they were dead-on." Nicely done! He storms off and she feels like a dick.
Now, what'll we put on the screen that'll make the backs of their necks crawl?
A dog: frightened, growling, showing its fangs.
Jonathan Shields screamed, from the center of himself, from the center of all the armor: "Who gave you the right to dig into me and turn me inside out and decide what I'm like? How do you know how I feel about you, how deep it goes? Maybe I don't want anybody to own me. You or anybody. Get out! Get out! Get out!"