Men don't fear, don't cry, don't hear the laughter of the leaves; you can't bring that part of Amy World back to the road crew, because the world turns on you, so there you go in the other direction, reminding sweet Hoyt who the real man, the Varsity man, is here. ("You're not the first vain-ass, body-conscious ex-jock to overdo the V," she said.) The second something opens you up, the second you say those words you never say, the real world turns on you; reminds you of what men do and are and say. Rene who's getting married like a grownup, Rene on whom women and children depend; Lafayette who looks at you like a child and tells you when you can have your medicine. And sweet gigantic Hoyt Fortenberry: too caring, too soft, to willing to apologize for the roughness of the world. Disgusting, weak Hoyt, who would never understand that it's not being protected and loved, but needing to be protected and loved that's the issue, that wanting to be protected makes him feel as helpless as he used to be, before he became a man. It's kind of you to try to take it on for him, but if he lets you, for even a second, he'd be so mad at you he'd never be able to look at you again. Hoyt shoves him off, as gently as he can, and stands up, disgusted. They wander away from each other, and Hoyt, whose feelings are still hurt, looks at the ground at Jason's feet, and apologizes for whatever it was, just like with Tara last week. Hoyt doesn't even need to know what he did, he just needs to make it okay. "I'm... Yeah, I'm sorry." And Jason slides down that tree, to the ground, and it's just a tree again. And he's just a man.
Sookie absentmindedly adjust the gigantic chip on her shoulder and asks Andy Bellefleur what the fuck he wants for lunch even though she already fucking knows, and he asks to see Sam, and she says she'll tell him Andy's looking for him but meanwhile what the fuck does Andy want for lunch and by the effing way, "While you make up your mind, how about I tell you what you can get for me, Andy Bellefleur? I'd love to have whoever's killing off my family's head on a platter. Think you could arrange that for me?" Andy sort of officially asks her to stop being a bitch, but she kind of has a point: "I don't appreciate my officers of the law enjoying casual lunches while there's a killer out there trying to hunt me down." Across the room, Amy's Spidey Sense causes her to excuse herself and come toward them. "Did you know he got into my house again last night? Yes. And he killed my cat. He cut her head off and took it with him." When you put it like that, it's not only awful but hilarious. It's like the more pissed off Sookie becomes, the more adorable she can't help but get, like some kind of evolutionary leg up.