True Blood

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Jacob Clifton: A+ | 1 USERS: A-
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The Pig It Was That Lived

An empty four-pack of TruBloods, rattling around in a drawer. She's stricken still for a moment. "Jason, Jason, Jason." Eddie pleads: he was half-dead, Jason was only helping, trying to help. He's like a little boy. "He should've told me about this. Why wouldn't he tell me about this?" she asks, turning honestly wounded eyes on her prey. "I won't tell him if you won't," Eddie says, panicking. Amy confides: "Withholding is tantamount to lying, and I can't have that in our relationship." She shakes her head sadly: "This is so beneath us." You have to be pretty fucking amazing, which Lizzy Caplan is, to juggle these balls: Henry Winter, Annie Wilkes, Living Liberal Zombie Nightmare, Jealous Girlfriend, Good Friend, Unpracticed Compartmentalizing Milgram Authority. There's an easy joke in every scene, an obvious way to play it too hard; it's easy to just pick what kind of freak to be in every scene and go for it, and Lord knows it's easy enough to do that to her, as a viewer. But you have to be pretty much freakishly perfect -- and this is why I've been following my girl Janis devotedly for almost ... shit, ten years now, from 1999: from Freaks & Geeks and Once & Again and Smallville (which I actually stopped watching when she died) even unto Tru Calling and Related, and my personal favorite, The Pitts -- to stay human in the middle of it all:

"Jason loves you. He never cared about anyone before. He even thinks that you might be the one." Amy is suspicious a moment -- "You talk about me with him?" -- before giving in, turning inside. "And he said that, he said that he thinks that I might be the one?" Eddie's getting stronger: "Amy. If I die here, Jason will never forgive you. Even if he wanted to. He's not as evolved as you are." And again, the secret to Amy is that this makes her just as sad as anything else, because it violates the rules of the universe she's constructed for herself as bad as vampires did Bon Temps; she's nearly weeping as Eddie's eyes bug out at how fucked up she is: "I know."

Sam sits in the rocker on the porch, waiting for the dawn; Sookie stares down at him, nervously fidgeting. "A shapeshifter?" Sam nods, and says mostly they just say "shifter"; there's no way of knowing how many there are, but maybe tens of thousands; it's hereditary... He looks around guiltily, as if about to tell a lie; as if it's too hard to talk about. "Um, I was adopted. And the family that took me in... We just never talked about it." His shame and sadness are no match for Sookie's curiosity. "Can you turn into anything? Like cats? Birds?" A cat would have helped, last night. "Cats, sure... Yeah, I can do bird, but flying's hard. Dog's the easiest for me." Why? "People like dogs. Most other animals leave you alone..." Sookie's suddenly weirded out: "I used to scratch your belly in the parking lot at the bar!" Sam laughs, and explains that was the brother dog, so happy to be telling her, telling somebody, finally less alone: "I need a live animal in order to shift. You know, as a model. Kind of like an imprint?" But Sookie knows about shapeshifters. Not the Sam kind, but she knows:

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True Blood

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