"Well see, that's why we've got to talk. We have to tell each other all the shit we've done. That way, if one of us gets out, he can tell the world about both of us." Royce starts to cry, this time in real panic. "I just hope it's me." Heh. Lafayette says that if it'll make him feel better, by all means keep babbling. "When I was twenty, my cousin Rufus, he was going out with this girl who claimed she could crush a beer can. With her tits. And one night, when we were alone, I asked her to show me. One beer can lead to another, and before you knew it, she was crushing my head. With her tits. Rufus came home, and he was so mad he threw me out of the window. My hip shattered into a million pieces, and they replaced it with metal. My ass is magnetic now..."
The tawdry, boring nature of Royce's indiscretions have pushed Lafayette too far. "I pray to God you ain't the last motherfucker I meet before I die," he sighs, but Royce isn't done. What about Lafayette? No regrets? "Well, I got in trouble with my boss once for punching out three stupid rednecks at the bar." Oh, the AIDSburger. Finest moment ever filmed in Merlotte's. Royce laughs, and asks if he really regrets it; of course he doesn't. "Yeah. Hey, I'm sorry I hassled you for being gay. I was an asshole about it." Lafayette, I can't even tell if he's being sarcastic, maybe he can't either anymore: "Well, at least I got through to you." Either way, it's funny. "If it makes you feel any better, when I was fifteen, at Safety Patrol Camp, I let my bunkmate blow me." Royce weeps, and the sheer gorgeous eloquence with which Lafayette casts his eyes to heaven could make you cry just as hard.
The wheel turning becomes Terry's order caddy, spinning around at the bar, as Andy harasses strangers about Nancy Levoir, Miss Jeannette. Nothing. Tara's surprised Jason and Hoyt have ordered Abida Light, since they usually have pitchers of Dixie draft, but Sookie shakes her head. Jason's not drinking, and Hoyt says his mama wants him to watch his weight. Arlene chimes in from the side -- "She's one to talk, that woman's got more chins than a Chinese phonebook" -- which makes Tara laugh in spite of herself.
One of those particularly Bon Temps hos -- this one looking like Busy Phillips let her monkey loose again -- approaches, trying to get Jason to drink with her, and if no, then to fuck her, and if no, then he and Hoyt must be "gay together." They don't really respond to this, because God. She turns to Hoyt, who stutters and stammers enough in the first two seconds that she's turned him down before he can form a word. "I don't teach," she turns to Jason, "I absorb." That's inscrutable. I hate it when ho talk doesn't make sense. I see what she's saying, in a purely pedagogical sense, but there is the stink of pun on it that I can't figure out. "Bubba. I'd rather stay pure for that leadership conference, but if you wanna hit that, man, I'm cool." Jason is a good friend, but Hoyt likes them nicer than that, and besides, he says, he's not much of a... "Hitter." See, if that were a pun I would be all over it.