"What about you? You ever been married?" Amy asks, in her irritating hipster pseudoironic too-cool fashion if "this" is "the part where the sister asks what the girl's intentions are with her brother," and instead of saying "No! This is the part where the sister punches your irritating ass in the eye," Sookie's like, "FYI and to review, my brother is a sister-slapping fuckwad candlestick-stealing drug addict and I hate him, as we discussed the other day. Frankly I hope this is the part where your intentions are to eat his liver with a nice Chianti."
Amy's like, "Kinda. On a separate note, he feels sort of bad about punching you in the face that one time, after he invited your molester to a family event. In the brief interludes between our kidnappings and the drugged-up live sex shows we put on in front of our torture and eventual serial murder victims -- and of course when he's not trying to kill Rene and Hoyt, his only living friends besides the drug dealer he's managed to completely alienate -- he feels bad for like entire seconds at a time. Also, he's convinced that he killed your parents, which is stressing him out, and he does eat a lot of processed sugars, and you know how that goes, but generally: when it occurs to him? Total mea culpa."
Sookie's amazed that Jason even told her about the punching in the face, and really wants to believe Amy when she says he's "a mess about it," referring to the proof of how he actually doesn't even have time to care due to his new hobby of combining the less attractive portions of Gummo and Trainspotting into what he's convinced is a workable lifestyle. And then Amy does that thing where she tells the truth again, so impossibly honestly and clear-eyed that you can't help but follow her there: "Look, I know what you must think of him. And I get why you're mad at him, I do. But he loves you. You've still got people around you who love you." Just, you know, less. And no cat. "And all I can hope is that maybe one day, I can be counted in among those people." Too far! But Sookie is, I may have mentioned, having a time of it lately, so she's enchanted. "You are way too good for him. You know that, right?" Amy's like, "Whatever keeps you thinking we're good enough friends that you don't read my spooky, crazy, fucked-up mind."