If the apocalypse comes, that means -- for just a small representative sample -- no more Diet Coke, no more vodka or cigarettes, no more Peter Cary Peterson, no more anything that makes our universe worthwhile. No more Jake Lodwick, for chrissake. No more Bear McCreary. I'd never finish Tender Morsels, which is like all I'm planning on doing tomorrow. No more making my day's schedule in Excel and then watching it slowly fall to shit. What's Lady Gaga's penis wearing this week? I don't know, we all died.
Things total are always going to be awesome, even if you're very tired indeed: Infinity is always bigger than whatever bullshit is bumming you out right this second. In the last five seconds alone you got: 1) a room with really excellent light and beautiful architecture, 2) Alexander Skarsgård's entire body ditto, and 3) Steve Newlin's hair, also ditto. That's like ten things, if you count Eric's separate muscle groups.
Stroppy Stackhouse informs Steve that his prisoner -- a sheriff, mind you, not that she or Steve actually understands what that means -- is free, and "bound to send for help." Steve doesn't even spare her a glance ("I'm not concerned with Godric!"), just turns to the crowd and indicates Eric: any vampire at all will do for the grand celebration, and they got one right here. Sookie stares at Eric, Eric stares at a bunch of crazy white people, and bows his head while Steve looks on, smiling wildly.
And then Eric -- Eric Northman, mind you, in case I didn't make that clear -- offers himself. Head down. "Brothers and sisters, there will be a holy bonfire at dawn," Steve laughs nastily. And I know I always bring Aslan into everything, so I'll spare you, but please.
Meanwhile Lorena's holding poor old Bellboy Barry against the door, chuckling grossly to herself about their sudden room service. "No. Uh, no. I don't do any..." Like they're going to be all, "Oh, I assumed you were a hooker. Our bad!" I was going to say working at Carmilla was way worse than say working in LA, but this is basically -- from what I've cobbled together from sensible sources like Dennis Cooper and Bret Ellis, not to mention my somewhat limited experience of pornographic cinema films -- what being a regular bellboy is like.
So I understand why Barry would assume Lorena's confused about his job title not being ho. She just loves that he's scared, because his heart is pounding which is probably tastier -- and I assume adrenaline in the blood makes it taste scarier also -- and Bill suddenly senses that Sookie is having some kind of issue. On top of the getting raped issue from five minutes ago, or the getting abducted issue from twenty minutes ago, or any of the other constant issues Sookie keeps running into.