Jason stares at the screen: a muscled tall guy, bald head, yucky tattoo of a beetle skeleton crawling from his medulla oblongata down the length of his back. The vampire has Maudette's hands chained above her head, to a hook hanging from the ceiling; he's screwing her standing, from behind, while on the couch she goes down on Jason. He doesn't take his eyes off the screen until his head falls back against the couch: directly above him is the hook. On the screen, the vamp growls right into the camera and goes scary-wild on her, making a sound like an espresso machine.
Sookie stares at the vampire, now sitting with the Rattrays; Denise's arm around him as she slouches drunkenly in the booth. "What a ... bitch. You really think that she's gonna let him bite her?" Tara asks if this is one of those Sookie things, essentially: "You know how many people are having sex with vampires these days? Sometimes those people disappear..." Sookie assures her that he's not like that, and Tara indulges her for the five seconds she spoke to him. "You ignore how many people he sucked the blood out over the last however many centuries he's been alive." Sookie's entranced: he's just not that scary. He's a guy. Tara employs the J word again, but Sookie doesn't even notice: "Yeah, but the synthetic blood has everything..." Sam interrupts and makes a very, very good point. "Are you willing to pass up all your favorite foods and spend the rest of your life drinking Slim-Fast?"
Over in the booth, the Rattrays are totally acting like meth heads. Denise is going on and on about how she's always been discriminated against, because she "never felt like being what society wanted [her] to be," and Mack's babbling, backing her up after every phrase without really saying anything, drumming his fingers on the back of the booth seat, horny or hungry. Sookie interrupts to ask if they want anything else, and this is what Denise is thinking: Not that big, he's probably got eleven or twelve pints in him. Holy shit, that's almost two hundred ounces! I bet we could get five hundred an ounce in Dallas... Fuck me, that's $10,000. Sweet Jesus. Stalling for time, Sookie offers to bring them a free round; Mack's thoughts are unkind as she whirls away again, ordering them not to go anywhere. Sookie has three walks: regular A-to-B, tiny little trip-trops, and sexy high heel swagger. I love Anna Paquin because: Sookie has three walks.
Sookie runs up to Tara near the bar, begging her to help save the vampire from the white trash crackheads; Tara swears that they will not be involving themselves in this drama: "We don't have to get anywhere near that vampire." Sookie -- I love everything Sookie says, always -- solemnly informs Tara that she is "very disappointed," Tara due to her "small-mindedness." Sam arrives to once again tell her that the vampire can take care of himself, but Sookie feels it before she sees it: she turns to stare at the empty booth, his untouched wine. "Shit," she blurts, and heads off running without a second thought -- Sam follows, tossing his apron at unemployed, drunk Tara and telling her to take care of things -- but out in the parking lot, it takes Sookie a sec to locate their minds. Look at this, Denise is thinking. This is so thick. Damn, this is gonna bring a pretty penny. We should keep some for ourselves... Although if Mac freaks out on me again, I am so through with him... Sookie runs into the woods, stopping only to grab a heavy length of chain from a truck bed.