Sookie informs him that A) watch it, B) don't call her baby, C) don't presume to think that Louisiana vampires are any less fucked up or scary than Dallas ones, D) she's been almost killed eleven times and her whole life since this show started has been a nonstop thrill ride of pain and disillusionment and people dying all over the place, so E) be cool. Barry will not be cool. Barry will be Audi Five Million. Sookie grunts to herself and feels like his whole identity and fear of being murdered is like totally a burn on her, and takes it personally, while Barry scuttles the fuck.
In the room, Bill is dressing down Jessica for eating off the menu, and tells her that sucking human fangbanger blood is maybe even worse than watching PPV porno, and Sookie comes in and Jessica's all excited like, "Sookie! There's dirty movies!" Sookie does an amazing fake-astounded face and goes, "I know, yuck!" Bill orders Jessica to her room and to drink some TruBlood, and she tells him she is on the fast train to having an eating disorder, stomping off with a seriously adorable and very accented, "PRIVATE! KEEP OUT!"
Well, without Jessica to boss around and act generally in a patriarchal fashion, whatever will Bill Compton do? Oh, lecture Sookie for a million years about where was she and did she know that danger exists. Sookie plays dumb, which is of course a stretch, and says she was looking for a candy machine. Of mind powers. Then, to shut him up, she strips off his shirt and talks about how she's safe because she's "HIS" and all that mess, and eventually just literally grabs his cock in her hand and asks if they're going to need to discuss this shit further. Not even the one million responsibilities and errands of Bill Compton are strong enough to withstand Sookie's Stackhouse's limitless horniness. Just once I would like him to be like, "Suckie, what are you doing? Are you trying to take mah mind off mah own inability to reconcile my antebellum pre-feminist paternalistic tendencies with your own sovereign right to be a woman and make yore own decisions?" And she would be like, "Bill Compton, you cum drugs, what is confusing about this? Shut your trap, I don't need fangs flopping in my face for this part."