"I am clean and sober, as you well know. I'll never take nothing from you. Except my girl." Lafayette and Lettie Mae get ready to take Tara away, and Eggs gets in the way, while Lettie calls out to her daughter and Maryann giggles. "You ain't a boyfriend, you're a domestically violent, sick mother." Eggs laughs, but Lafayette's not fucking around. "I'm begging you," Lettie says. "Don't let them do you this way. We'll keep you safe." Tara's eyes go black.
"Well, it would be the first fucking time." She heads for her mother, and both Lettie and Lafayette notice the black eyes, freaking out. Tara shoves her mother against the wall, striking at her again and again: "Throw a Bible at me now. Pull my hair, scratch my face, break my head with a bottle. Hit me back!" Nothing can hurt me, he said. I hate you so fucking much, she said. I never saw a difference between the Dallas story and the Maryann story, but now there's just no difference at all: Lettie Mae refuses. With her back against the wall, claws and fists raining down on her, she weeps, in shame. "I won't hit you back. Go ahead and kill me, I'll never strike you again." Tara begs her to fight back; she stands there in the maelstrom and she takes it. She wouldn't wish this on a possum; she knows it's the least of the price she must pay. Go ahead and kill me, I'll never strike you again: In this, I see God.
Lafayette picks Tara up bodily, hoisting her over a shoulder and throwing her in the car. She screams like a demon, like a beast. Like a little black-eyed girl. Eggs follows them, hurting, onto the porch, and Maryann comforts him as the fly watches, buzzing on Adele's porch: "She'll come back. And she'll bring them with her. Come on."
"Do you have any fucking idea of the PR mess you've made? And who fucking has to clean that shit up? Me. Not you, me. I should drain every one of you bastards." Isabel stares at Nan Flanagan, in the flesh, moved by this. "Stan went after the church on his own, none of us knew anything about it." Nan laughs. "Really? Because everyone who met Stan in the last 300 years knew he had a kink about slaughtering humans. But you -- his nest mates, his Sheriff -- had no clue." But like how were they supposed to know he meant it? "Not my problem. Yours."
Eric bristles: "Don't talk to him that way"; she smiles in that unnerving way: "Don't talk to me that way." Sookie stares at them all. She knows Godric was there on purpose. She still hasn't figured out why, but she's close. "How did they manage to abduct you?" Godric's shrug is eloquent; his answer less so. "They would have taken one of us sooner or later. I offered myself." And when she asks him why, all he can ask is why not. "They wanted you to meet the sun, and you were willing?" Sookie, afraid he's going to figure it out, stares at Eric, worried. "What do you think?" Godric asks. "I think you're out of your mind," Nan says honestly.