Jason speeds up to the house in his truck and jumps out and runs inside all pissy and troubled, as we all would be after a long day of cognitive dissonance on this level, and on the TV Nan Flanagan, Terrifying Vampire Lady, is once again fighting it out with some overprocessed whiteboy Jesus freak, and Jason's grabbing at beer and empty pizza boxes, and eventually Eddie's screams make it through the static and the noise, and no matter how many times Jason screams at him to shut up, he can't. "After the massacre of three of our kind in Louisiana earlier this week," Nan says, "I think the world should take notice of the fact that we have not retaliated." Jason holds his hands an inch or two off the chair's arms, breathing slowly and softly, trying to get it back. Just a taste, just a bit of that feeling, that calm rightness. Here, now, where nobody can see him. "...And we will not. Which leaves us with the question of exactly who is hunting whom out there in America tonight?" The screaming bursts through again, into his head, like a stake through the heart. He balls his fists, screaming all the way, and comes downstairs.
Eddie thanks him piteously, terribly, for coming downstairs, and begs snarling Jason to move him; there's too much pain, the chair's digging into him and he's too weak to move himself. "Thought y'all couldn't feel pain," Jason says, honestly, and Eddie... Oh, Eddie's looking bad. Sweaty and hellish. "When you don't drink, your body... Your whole body aches more than anything I ever felt when I was alive. Please?" Jason puts his beer down on the washer, making Eddie promise to shut up, that it's not a trick, that he won't bite him. "I don't even have the energy. Just, please?" Jason crudely slaps his head out of the way and anchors his hands around Eddie as he moans, quietly. Calls him a "doughy fuck" and Eddie apologizes, then screams as Jason moves him higher on the chair. "That any better?" Eddie can barely tell. Jason bends over, back wrenched from the effort, and cracks his back. "Good. Because now I'm all fucked up." Jason, you see, is capable of discomfort.