Oh, and by the way there is a giant black panther in Jason's bedroom. Which turns into naked Crystal. ("So on this show," my friend Lily asked, "The white trash are the Black Panthers?")
Postcoital and wrapped up in poor Tony's arms, calling him "Talbot" and the whole nine yards, Russell finds there are still ways to crazy. He has not exhausted the types of crazy possible. "You're the strongest man I've ever known. You made us a home. You made us family." Tony's like, "Um, yeah, it was a nice house." (No, Tony, it was a tacky house.) "It was a home," Russell cries. "A haven. A refuge from all that madness." Tony gets the same feeling you get at this point, which is that Russell is about to do something dreadful, and he grabs his pants. "I told you, extra 500 to bite me." There are dry blood tears on Russell's face.
"Oh, Brother, it's all my fault. I will never forgive myself that in end, you were so alone, with no one holding your hand." He kisses Tony's hand, and falls back. "It is one thing to face eternity without you, but to have not been with you at the true death?" And then, he is. Tony's staked. He's human so he doesn't explode; he gets to hear the whole speech. "Talbot, you saved me from the world. From myself. I was a fool to trust him. And I am more sorry than I can ever say."
Russell kisses Tony's hand again, as he dies, and then it's Talbot. Who is actually quite beautiful in his repose, now that Tony is dead. Or maybe it's just that he's shut the fuck up. "I'm so glad we had a chance to say our goodbye," Russell says, lying on his chest, very much alone. He was there when Talbot was human, and when he turned him so many years ago, but he wasn't there when Talbot was gone. This is as close as he can get, which isn't very close at all. The whole scene is just gross and depraved and terribly sad: The once-proud King in some filthy den, tangled in smelly lousy sheets pulled half off the mattress, holding a dead whore so tightly, bloody tears drying on his cheeks, staring out at nothing at all.
Bill stalks Sookie's porch, scared and scenting, searching for her; he doesn't feel her out there until the end of this paragraph, and then he runs. Sookie's in Eric's office, and I guess she's been there for awhile when he returns. "I needed to think," he says, and there's a grit in his voice and a spring in his step that means something awful is about to happen, probably to Sookie, probably in everybody's best interest whatever it is. "I'm not some kind of prisoner you can just lock up any time you feel like taking off!" she says, but then of course a moment later, she is. Locked up in the basement with a collar around her neck, in the dark, screaming as usual about what a fucker Eric is.