If you liked the awkward, haphazard honesty of the Fishers and their assorted loved ones on Six Feet Under, let me tell you that you are about to shoot into awkward, haphazard hyperdrive. What a fucking lovely, perfect, cheesy, hilarious, loving, compassionate, scary view of love and sex and nature at the nth level. Asleep, awake, alive or dead, apparently telling the truth has spread from Tara to everybody. Needless to say, Tara continues to be the total greatest of all time ever in the history of the universe.
We pick up on last week's cliffhanger with Sookie telling the super-scary vampfang gothtards to stow it because she's not susceptible, then the impromptu vampire party at Bill's house gets all cheesy vamp-FF and bisexual and blowjobby, then Bill tells everybody to quit acting like stupid ridiculous vampires. Then he talks all Civil Warlike, and you start to figure out that Bill's a lot hotter when he's not talking like he's reading from a Bowdlerized copy of Vanity Fair. Sookie tells him to take a long walk in the sun and leaves, but dreams that she's totally bored of being a virgin and tells Bill so, but wakes up before they bone because she's a total virgin and doesn't know what happens next. In the end, they're kind of dating again although I don't know if Bill's aware of that.
Awakingly, Adele is even ten times prettier and more senile-slash-hilarious-slash-insightful than before and continues to be totally awesome: strip-mall coffee is good for you, Sookie's boyfriend is a totally cute murderer who cannot legally wed and drinks blood, Sookie needs a boyfriend with an opaque brain, Adele's husband had the same psychic shit going on, isn't being psychic fucked up due to "everybody's dark secrets," but it also saves lives so it's good, so grow the eff up, because it's never as easy as 1 or 0.
As per usual, Jason's the most interesting storyline. He gets out of his cliffhanger restraints and jumps Dawn in a Nagel dressing gown and elbow-length gloves, pretending to be the serial killer. Dawn is into it, so his whole reveal -- plus his sudden gay/vampire/whatever-panic related impotence, plus his disinclination to take off the creepy velvet gloves while they're trying to fuck -- is awesomely stupid enough that she gets her gun out and starts shooting it all around, making her the coolest person of the week. I guess of all the billion other metaphors that vampirism now represents, we're also in Pleasantville and fangbanging (IT'S ERIC I KNOW IT'S YOU ERIC I LOVE YOU ERIC SEE YOU NEXT WEEK ERIC) is just one more way of figuring out your total Joan Allen awesomeness and shooting at Jason Stackhouse, who frankly deserves it. Mostly, he is naked and having weird hallucinations of fucking that one horrible tattoo loser vampire when he's supposed to be fucking Dawn. Color us both (not) shocked and relieved, not to mention in total gay love with gun-toting Dawn. Meaning that there is literally nobody on this show that isn't totally awesome.
Anyway, speaking of forthrightly announcing your sex stuff like some kind of socially impaired weirdo instead of approaching other people in a way that suggests you are relatively sane, Tara explains to Sam that it's probably best that they fuck. Sam, being the hottest dude on this show, takes some convincing, but eventually bones her. It is awesome. Bonus: He snarfs and barks in his sleep as though he were an obviously-telegraphed shapeshifting collie. (Who, like Pluto and Goofy, owns a pet dog of his own! Freakout fakeout!) Next day, Tara realizes that while her mom is close to being just like your average horrific alcoholic mom, she is maybe as full of Satan as she is of liquor. I hope she kills the bitch, frankly. Tara heads over to Lafayette's house, where he gets her stoned and introduces her to his lover, a Louisiana state senator. That should have pain-free consequences!
Later, Jason shows up at Lafayette's house, evidencing a totally awesome longstanding relationship based on mutual respect and adoration, not to mention that Lafayette is a crack dealer of all kinds. Turns out L sells v-juice, and knows it's just the thing for what ails our Jason. And normally I would cry foul, but my goodness is this shit exactly what Jason needs, because L's a guide, and any tool is a weapon if you hold it right, including drugs. Jason's going to have to walk this whole trail to come out the other side, which we knew the first time we met him. It's nice, honestly: Lafayette and Sookie is a house that's not been built yet, but Lafayette and Jason is a house with basements we'll never see. Then there's some straight-boy porn, which is to say "this is a scene with Jason Stackhouse in it," Sookie decides it's appropriate to masturbate on her front porch, Sam interrupts said proceedings and sends her to Dawn's house, who I am guessing is... And yeah. Dead as shit. Later, Dawn.
Next week: WHO CARES IT'S ERIC I LOVE YOU ERIC SHUT UP EVERYBODY LOOK IT'S ERIC
We pick back up on Bill's porch with the two ridiculous vampires in the doorway and the bald one behind Sookie with his tongue going the usual amount of crazy. His name is Liam, the Foxy Brown one is Diane, and the goatee one with the silly accent is Malcolm (an unrecognizable Agent Schlatter, last seen experiencing the joys of home improvement first-hand on Weeds). He invites Sookie inside with all kinds of hypnotism happening in his eyeballs, and Diane is also shooting brain lasers, and finally Sookie's like, "Hey, are you trying to glamour me?" They pull up short and look at each other, and Malcolm's like, "...Yes?" She informs them, in her Liddell way, that it doesn't work on her, and Liam blurts, "Why not?" She turns back to him like this is a conversation people have, all, "I dunno, but whatever." Everybody stares at everybody else, completely flummoxed by her implacability as usual, and finally she just asks if Bill's around. His voice echoes out into the foyer as he commands them to let her in. Diane leans in, all creepy, and he barks: "Diane! Let her in." Disappointed, Diane's like, "Oh, fuck him." Malcolm giggles that she already did. I kind of love Malcolm.
As ridiculous and OTT as they are, I like them, because their props and clothes and activities pretty much span every kind of vampire we've ever seen; it's a neat twist. Malcolm is Vamp Classic, all pretension and image; Diane is the Vamp Madonna, spanning looks and personae from blaxploitation to her Jewelle Gomez/Billie Holliday roots; Liam is the postapocalyptic redneck fratboy Vamp Bubba. Just like everybody else on the show, they're trying to find somebody to be and how it fits with who they are and who they used to be. Everybody's in costume; everybody's wearing a mask in front of a camera, all the time. There's something inherently lame about vampires because they are always these drowsy bisexual polyamorous drama queens, but here it's a double-twist because no matter how hilariously lame they are -- to say nothing of the whooshy sound they make when they zoom around -- they will still kill your ass and suck your blood, and that's scary.
Sookie enters, Malcolm and Diane on either side of her; Diane darts in for a quick lick of her face, and then laughs all crazy. Diane continues to laugh like an insane four-year-old playing dressup for the rest of the scene, and in fact whenever she's onscreen. Unnecessarily, Malcolm does the fangzoom over to the door, closing it behind her. In the parlor, there's a butterface heroin girl strung out on one couch, and a gogo boy with an insane body and cutoffs lounging on the other. Bill sits in the corner in shadow.