Ben, kneeling: "Holy shit, are you Niall Brigand? Is this Warlow we're talking about?"
Niall: "Don't kneel to me, boy. If anybody is going to act pretentious, it's going to be me, the King of All Faeries. Of which now there's just one, me, and four actual half-ones, and then you and whatever Sookie is."
Niall: "Ben Flynn -- can I call you anything but that stupid name? -- one of my sons accidentally sold Warlow my granddaughter Sookie."
Ben: "Sookie Stackhouse? This is crazy!"
Niall: "Do you want to repay her sponge-bath kindness by forming an army of two with me to defeat him? I was going to use Jason, but clearly he is not up to it right now."
Ben: "Wait, so I get to be the fairy prince and your second in command and Sookie's boyfriend? Those are three things that would reliably cause Jason Stackhouse to shit his britches. Let's do this, let's make him feel completely superfluous so he does something absolutely moronic. Which then usually saves the day."
Oh my God I miss Kitch Maynard so much it hurts my insides. My insides where my heart goes.
Bill: "Good morning, nighttime! I am about to be in you!"
Jessica: "Bill, let me come with you doing things. Even though there is a curfew, I did yell at Sookie for staking you, remember? Even though you were being absolutely terrifying and awful?"
Bill: "All right, fine. Go find this professor at North Louisiana, Hido Takahashi. He invented TruBlood one time, maybe he can do it again."
Jessica: "I love college! Even though I can never go to it."
Bill: "And Jessica? Dress like jailbait, he's into barely legal poon."
Jessica: "You got it, Daddy!"
Somehow -- how? -- this is not skeevy, but adorable. Maybe it's the pragmatism of them being on the same page about how humans are stupid, and how the whole thing is just pretend so he's not really pimping out his daughter so much as saving the world, but I really did not get a weird feeling. It was like a phantom limb of being grossed out, or you reach for your gun and it's just a banana. Maybe it is because Bill Compton has somehow become a huge part of my life. I am still not ready to think about that, though.
...Oh my God and she goes for it, fifty shades of yes, grey, wool, stockings and short skirt, red bra peeking out. I often wonder what it is like to be Deborah Ann Woll. She seems like a person who came late to an understanding of her hotness, and is now enjoying herself immensely. ("Do you want to be a major character on this hit TV show? Mostly we will play dress-up with you.") That's Jessica too, of course, but I do just think that when we are given the opportunity to safely revel in our appeal as objects without having to pay any consequences -- to put gas in the tank of self-esteem, for free -- it's kind of your duty to follow up.