Before I begin this week’s recap, I’d like to extend a very warm and sincere welcome back to our very dear friend, Alcide’s Ass. Hello, old chum. It’s been a long time. You’re looking well. Good to see you. Very good.
What’s not good to see is how Tia Petunia overcompensates for her inexplicably in-and-out accent by wildly GesTicULaTing each SylAble she utters. Fiona Shaw is a well-respected thespian who I’m sure could act the hell out of any iambic pentameter thrown in her general direction, so what gives? Now I don’t mind a little overacting every once in a while—hell, some scenery was made to be chewed—but Tia Petunia ain’t no werewolf, so tone it down, por favor! Speaking of toning it down, Eric’s now doubly neutered and waiting for further instructions in the storage room of the Moon Goddess Emporium. He has it comparatively easy, though, as Tia Petunia has now gone all Francisco Franco on the collective asses of the wiccan militia and locked them all in. Amazingly, Tara does not start to cry.
Tara vs. the Door Part II: The Blistering
Speaking of werewolves, you might remember Alcide rescuing Sookie from the foggy graveyard in last week’s episode. Well, in this week’s, he’s pushed—rudely pushed I might add—aside by Bill who pulls a Flash and swoops Sookie from his arms and onto her couch. Now I’m not one to quibble (you know that’s a lie, and I know it, too, so let’s move on), but if he’s Speedy Gonzalesing her somewhere, why didn’t he take her to the hospital where there are trained medical professionals who can help her? Nope, not our Bill. He’d rather lay her on the couch, try to force feed her even more blood, and tell Alcide (who finally shows up, a little sweaty and out of breath) that all they can do is pray. Um, yeah, you could have prayed in the ER waiting room, too, Dr. Kill-dare. Anyway, when Sookie wakes up, she sees Bill. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George buys the big salad for Elaine but doesn’t get the credit? Same thing.
Sookie’s all happy that Bill saved her when 1) he was the one who got her into the mess in the first place and 2) Alcide bought your big salad, bitch! Give credit where credit is due, I say. Things are slightly evened out, though, as Sookie starts asking about Eric, which makes Bill sad. Too bad, Bill, that’s what happens when you take credit for other people’s work. Also slightly evening out the universe was Alcide’s realization that Sookie is, at best, a glutton for punishment and, at worst, a complete idiot. He leaves her to her vampire drama and returns home to Debbie. He…very…slowly…strips and waytooquickly gets into bed. They spoon. We want to shove a fork in her yellowing eyes.
Speaking of drama, Luna wants to do her best to avoid any with her ex, Mary Kay. Sam suggests that they go back to nature and camp out for the night. I get that he’s trying to be a nice guy about this, but given the incredible amount of foot traffic the woods around Bon Temps gets, wouldn’t you think it was just a matter of a few minutes until Mary Kay rings the bell on their tent?
“Bitch, please.”
Back at Bill’s, Jessica’s still complaining about Hoyt, but this time to Nan, who’s trying to steal some of Pam’s fabulousness by being pithy. The quips just keep on coming as they, along with Bill, silver themselves down in S.H.I.E.L.D., again. I know they’re doing it so they don’t go flying out the door (Score so far: Doors: 4, Jessica: 0), but if they keep this up, they run the risk of becoming a society of silverers who do it just so they can feel something. Apparently they’re just days away from the Festival of Tolerance, and Nan tells Bill that he’d better make things right with the witches, otherwise, all that planning would be for naught. Aside from being a public relations disaster, the party planner in me imagines they’d not only lose their deposit on the hall, but the flower arrangements would also be totally wasted, and that would be the real shame of it all.
Monster Box. By Hasbro.
Hoyt wakes up to his cell phone alarm going off. It sounds like a rooster at dawn. So you could say that Hoyt has a cock clock. Ha! Suddenly, Lafayette walks in with Rosemary’s baby. Turns out that Tiana used to live in the house, and not only does she think she still lives there, she thinks she’s still alive and the baby’s hers. I suppose it’s an easy mistake, given the fact that he plays with her dead kid’s creepy doll, but aren’t mothers always obnoxiously telling us that they can identify their baby’s cry from hundreds? I’ll let this go considering she’s been dead for a really long time and is probably still suffering from the trauma of seeing her firefly friend squished in front of her. This doesn’t explain, however, why Lafayette sounds like he’s from Jamaica. I guess Tia Petunia’s vocal coach was offering two-for-one diction lessons.
Xanadu!
Making a long story (and by long story, I mean eight-episodes worth) short, they call on Jesus (not the son of God, the other one), to talk sense to Tiana, who finally realizes that she has a penis, and that those Disney animators really do put that kind of shit into their films. Tiana’s sorry for the whole misunderstanding! Luckily, Jack and Janet forgive her, and the gang digs up the bodies of Tiana and her baby under the tree in Hoyt’s front yard. I think I saw Craig T. Nelson floating around down there, but it was dark, so I can’t be sure.
Hulk smash!
Tommy’s back at Merlotte’s, where of course neither he nor anyone with a screen credit is working (Tara and Holly are locked in the Moon Goddess, Sam’s in the woods, Arlene’s at Hoyt’s, Jessica’s silvered), when he’s interrupted from writing his goodbye note to Sam by Mary Kay. They exchange unpleasantries, and Mary Kay invites Sam to a meeting that night to discuss how to best maximize his summer palates. You know what’s coming. Tommy skinwalks in to Mary Kay’s garage, gets the tar beaten out of him, and gets saved by Alcide. Yes, Alcide carries yet another big salad, and I hope he gets credit for this one.
Sookie wakes up (not really) on the couch (again), with the most fabulous Joan Crawford-lighting across her eyes. Eric’s at the door in the sunshine, which isn’t as surprising as the fact that he’s actually wearing shoes. They start making out in the hallway, but then Bill shows up and they’re in the dining room. Firmly establishing that this is a dream, she tells them to shut up. No, honey. This is your dream, they don’t need to shut up; they need to get naked. The scene takes a turn to HBO circa 1984, as Sookie becomes a character on Red Shoe Diaries, extolling the virtues of vampiric polyamory. Eric and Bill are sitting on the couch listening to her, and one feels the tension mounting. I, for one, haven’t wanted to yell, “KISS HIM!” that much since Sam and Frodo collapsed into each other’s arms. Sadly, Sookie completely kills the homoerotic tension by dropping her robe and exposing her way-too-skinny body and becoming the cream in a vampire Oreo.
“He doesn’t love me! He loves Robb!”
Debbie shows up and she and Sookie sit down for a glass of sweet tea. If you look to the left, you can catch Chris Hanson and his To Catch a Predator crew. Debbie figures the only way to get Alcide all to herself is to help Sookie once and for all. Poor Debbie. She doesn’t know that 1) Alcide gave up on her and 2) she’ll have to get through me.
“What the HELL is a Hufflepuff?!”
Deb and Sook wind up at Tia Petunia’s and find Eric and the rest of the captives. Tara’s about to cry, but mentally tells Sookie that Tia’s gone batshit crazy and she better go help Bill. Thelma and Louise head to the Tolerance Festival, held at the Shreveport Dorchester Hotel.
Yeah. Three totally hot guys want her. I swear.
Eric baits the other vampires to chase him into the kitchen where Bobby Kennedy died and they fall under the control of Tia Petunia, who really does go all Carrie-at-the-prom on the crowd. All hell breaks loose. They’re never getting that deposit back now.
Tonight’s carnage was brought to you by 1-800-DENTIST.
Robb Pearlman is the author of the Spoiler Alert: Bruce Willis is Dead and 399 More Endings from Movies, TV, Books, and Life, coming this November, as well as The Q Guide to Sex and the City and upcoming adaptations of Alice in Wonderland and Winnie the Pooh. He is an editor of pop culture and entertainment titles, including the upcoming The Joker and The Syfy Book of SciFi. Robb is known by name in comic book stores in such wide ranging locales as New York, Gotham City, Brigadoon and Alderaan. An only child in constant need of validation, he promises to accept your Facebook friend request.
Read all of Robb’s True Blood recaps here.
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Before I begin this week’s recap, I’d like to extend a very warm and sincere welcome back to our very dear friend, Alcide’s Ass. Hello, old chum. It’s been a long time. You’re looking well. Good to see you. Very good.
What’s not good to see is how Tia Petunia overcompensates for her inexplicably in-and-out accent by wildly GesTicULaTing each SylAble she utters. Fiona Shaw is a well-respected thespian who I’m sure could act the hell out of any iambic pentameter thrown in her general direction, so what gives? Now I don’t mind a little overacting every once in a while—hell, some scenery was made to be chewed—but Tia Petunia ain’t no werewolf, so tone it down, por favor! Speaking of toning it down, Eric’s now doubly neutered and waiting for further instructions in the storage room of the Moon Goddess Emporium. He has it comparatively easy, though, as Tia Petunia has now gone all Francisco Franco on the collective asses of the wiccan militia and locked them all in. Amazingly, Tara does not start to cry.
Tara vs. the Door Part II: The Blistering
Speaking of werewolves, you might remember Alcide rescuing Sookie from the foggy graveyard in last week’s episode. Well, in this week’s, he’s pushed—rudely pushed I might add—aside by Bill who pulls a Flash and swoops Sookie from his arms and onto her couch. Now I’m not one to quibble (you know that’s a lie, and I know it, too, so let’s move on), but if he’s Speedy Gonzalesing her somewhere, why didn’t he take her to the hospital where there are trained medical professionals who can help her? Nope, not our Bill. He’d rather lay her on the couch, try to force feed her even more blood, and tell Alcide (who finally shows up, a little sweaty and out of breath) that all they can do is pray. Um, yeah, you could have prayed in the ER waiting room, too, Dr. Kill-dare. Anyway, when Sookie wakes up, she sees Bill. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George buys the big salad for Elaine but doesn’t get the credit? Same thing.
Sookie’s all happy that Bill saved her when 1) he was the one who got her into the mess in the first place and 2) Alcide bought your big salad, bitch! Give credit where credit is due, I say. Things are slightly evened out, though, as Sookie starts asking about Eric, which makes Bill sad. Too bad, Bill, that’s what happens when you take credit for other people’s work. Also slightly evening out the universe was Alcide’s realization that Sookie is, at best, a glutton for punishment and, at worst, a complete idiot. He leaves her to her vampire drama and returns home to Debbie. He…very…slowly…strips and waytooquickly gets into bed. They spoon. We want to shove a fork in her yellowing eyes.
Speaking of drama, Luna wants to do her best to avoid any with her ex, Mary Kay. Sam suggests that they go back to nature and camp out for the night. I get that he’s trying to be a nice guy about this, but given the incredible amount of foot traffic the woods around Bon Temps gets, wouldn’t you think it was just a matter of a few minutes until Mary Kay rings the bell on their tent?
“Bitch, please.”
Back at Bill’s, Jessica’s still complaining about Hoyt, but this time to Nan, who’s trying to steal some of Pam’s fabulousness by being pithy. The quips just keep on coming as they, along with Bill, silver themselves down in S.H.I.E.L.D., again. I know they’re doing it so they don’t go flying out the door (Score so far: Doors: 4, Jessica: 0), but if they keep this up, they run the risk of becoming a society of silverers who do it just so they can feel something. Apparently they’re just days away from the Festival of Tolerance, and Nan tells Bill that he’d better make things right with the witches, otherwise, all that planning would be for naught. Aside from being a public relations disaster, the party planner in me imagines they’d not only lose their deposit on the hall, but the flower arrangements would also be totally wasted, and that would be the real shame of it all.
Monster Box. By Hasbro.
Hoyt wakes up to his cell phone alarm going off. It sounds like a rooster at dawn. So you could say that Hoyt has a cock clock. Ha! Suddenly, Lafayette walks in with Rosemary’s baby. Turns out that Tiana used to live in the house, and not only does she think she still lives there, she thinks she’s still alive and the baby’s hers. I suppose it’s an easy mistake, given the fact that he plays with her dead kid’s creepy doll, but aren’t mothers always obnoxiously telling us that they can identify their baby’s cry from hundreds? I’ll let this go considering she’s been dead for a really long time and is probably still suffering from the trauma of seeing her firefly friend squished in front of her. This doesn’t explain, however, why Lafayette sounds like he’s from Jamaica. I guess Tia Petunia’s vocal coach was offering two-for-one diction lessons.
Xanadu!
Making a long story (and by long story, I mean eight-episodes worth) short, they call on Jesus (not the son of God, the other one), to talk sense to Tiana, who finally realizes that she has a penis, and that those Disney animators really do put that kind of shit into their films. Tiana’s sorry for the whole misunderstanding! Luckily, Jack and Janet forgive her, and the gang digs up the bodies of Tiana and her baby under the tree in Hoyt’s front yard. I think I saw Craig T. Nelson floating around down there, but it was dark, so I can’t be sure.
Hulk smash!
Tommy’s back at Merlotte’s, where of course neither he nor anyone with a screen credit is working (Tara and Holly are locked in the Moon Goddess, Sam’s in the woods, Arlene’s at Hoyt’s, Jessica’s silvered), when he’s interrupted from writing his goodbye note to Sam by Mary Kay. They exchange unpleasantries, and Mary Kay invites Sam to a meeting that night to discuss how to best maximize his summer palates. You know what’s coming. Tommy skinwalks in to Mary Kay’s garage, gets the tar beaten out of him, and gets saved by Alcide. Yes, Alcide carries yet another big salad, and I hope he gets credit for this one.
Sookie wakes up (not really) on the couch (again), with the most fabulous Joan Crawford-lighting across her eyes. Eric’s at the door in the sunshine, which isn’t as surprising as the fact that he’s actually wearing shoes. They start making out in the hallway, but then Bill shows up and they’re in the dining room. Firmly establishing that this is a dream, she tells them to shut up. No, honey. This is your dream, they don’t need to shut up; they need to get naked. The scene takes a turn to HBO circa 1984, as Sookie becomes a character on Red Shoe Diaries, extolling the virtues of vampiric polyamory. Eric and Bill are sitting on the couch listening to her, and one feels the tension mounting. I, for one, haven’t wanted to yell, “KISS HIM!” that much since Sam and Frodo collapsed into each other’s arms. Sadly, Sookie completely kills the homoerotic tension by dropping her robe and exposing her way-too-skinny body and becoming the cream in a vampire Oreo.
“He doesn’t love me! He loves Robb!”
Debbie shows up and she and Sookie sit down for a glass of sweet tea. If you look to the left, you can catch Chris Hanson and his To Catch a Predator crew. Debbie figures the only way to get Alcide all to herself is to help Sookie once and for all. Poor Debbie. She doesn’t know that 1) Alcide gave up on her and 2) she’ll have to get through me.
“What the HELL is a Hufflepuff?!”
Deb and Sook wind up at Tia Petunia’s and find Eric and the rest of the captives. Tara’s about to cry, but mentally tells Sookie that Tia’s gone batshit crazy and she better go help Bill. Thelma and Louise head to the Tolerance Festival, held at the Shreveport Dorchester Hotel.
Yeah. Three totally hot guys want her. I swear.
Eric baits the other vampires to chase him into the kitchen where Bobby Kennedy died and they fall under the control of Tia Petunia, who really does go all Carrie-at-the-prom on the crowd. All hell breaks loose. They’re never getting that deposit back now.
Tonight’s carnage was brought to you by 1-800-DENTIST.
Robb Pearlman is the author of the Spoiler Alert: Bruce Willis is Dead and 399 More Endings from Movies, TV, Books, and Life, coming this November, as well as The Q Guide to Sex and the City and upcoming adaptations of Alice in Wonderland and Winnie the Pooh. He is an editor of pop culture and entertainment titles, including the upcoming The Joker and The Syfy Book of SciFi. Robb is known by name in comic book stores in such wide ranging locales as New York, Gotham City, Brigadoon and Alderaan. An only child in constant need of validation, he promises to accept your Facebook friend request.
Read all of Robb’s True Blood recaps here.
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