Randi Sue ... ugh, she's just so fucking tragic and unpleasant. Anyway, she dances drunkenly, and Hoyt wanders up grinning and lost, doing a weird little dance-like movement that involves pretending to ride a horse with a hat on, and she's like, "Watcha doin', baby?" I'm curious about that as well, to be frank. "You know, keeping it real. Partyin'." White people actually are kind of an elaborate prank, aren't they? Randi Sue is celebrating her divorce, which is now final; her high-five is so vigorous that it hurts his hand. Aww, Hoyt! I will high-five you tenderly! It won't ever hurt! He gives her this great look, like, "You are so fucking wasted, awesome," and she says her ex was a jerk. "He shot my car," she says, as though that explains it all. It ... really does, though.
She backs her nasty self into his crotch and, across the bar, Jason Stackhouse is all fucked up on drugs; he and Rene watch Randi's antics together, amazed at how totally grody she is. "It's like watching Animal Planet, yeah? Any second, she gonna bite his head off, I swear." Jason believes him for a second, because here, in this place right now, all anybody's thinking about is sex, sex, sex. Love, love, love. Two things held apart like magnets until today, when the world got big enough to contain them both. It's like watching Animal Planet; it's always been like watching Animal Planet. Jason watching Jason fuck the animal planet. But today he climbed through the glass; he's on safari, for the first time: part of all nature, because nature is all we have. Or probably he's still fucked up on drugs. Hoyt comes back to them eventually, across the wilderness and back to his people: he didn't feel it. "That spark," he didn't feel it with Randi Sue. He thought he did, but that was a tiny little love bite from one of her pubic lice. They drink blood.