In one corner of Maryann's yard there's a little garden house, like a playhouse or Wendy's house of leaves, with foliage growing up over it. It's lovely. Andy leans in and sees the big red pig, and his eyes get wide. "What you doing in there, Pig?" Heh. I wish he'd talked to the pig longer, but Maryann appears and welcomes him to the party. He says, and who knows, that there have been noise complaints. "Oh. And they sent their best detective to deal with it? Well, I am flattered. But Sheriff Dearborne should really put your talents to better use." God, I love Maryann. Andy nods, and she promises perfectly sweetly to turn off the music. She looks especially great, of course: hair up, strings of jewels through it and a little hanging down, like a Roman goddess.
"Hate to be a party pooper, but you got a livestock permit for that pig?" Maryann laughs and asks what Andy's talking about, but the pig is of course gone. She giggles at him and asks if he's been drinking, and he gets red-faced and swears he's a good cop. She awws and throws her arms around him. "Of course you are, everybody knows that!" She holds out a glass of champagne, and insists he relax. How long his sobriety? How long did it take for her to raze it again? Sobriety is the monster of Maryann. Might as well just kill her. But he's an addict, he's one of hers. "Just one. I am on the clock." She laughs, and pulls him toward the party, affectionate and beautiful and wise. "Come on!" She's a force of nature. She won't be blocked, or undermined.
"Yes. God is love. He's the force of love. But how do we respond to forces that block, undermine and destroy love?" (Um, tear out their hearts as tribute? Just a thought.) Steve Newlin sits in his beautiful house, wearing a soft cream sweater over his shoulders, explaining things to Jason. "Well, you cannot love evil. You have to hate it. So hating evil is really... Loving good." Jason parrots it back, once: "...Good."
"Hate isn't just natural, Jason. We need it in order to survive. My father dedicated his life to God. To protecting the human race. They murdered him, his wife, and my baby sister in cold blood." Steve's eyes are wet, and he's shaking. Jason's drawn in. "They're baby-killers. That's what they're capable of. Now, if I didn't hate vampires, and do everything in my power to avenge my family's death, what kind of man would I be?"
Well, according to the conversation Jason had with himself on the porch earlier, a pretty bad one. Like Jason is. "And what's going on out there is a war," Steve continues, and of course Jason jumps in his chair and turns toward the French doors. "Not right now, Jason," and I'm impressed with Steve's ability to not slap him in his little face for that one, "But in general. And we've all got to choose sides. Now, you're either on the side of darkness, or the side of light." Jason parrots it back again: "...Light."