Hey there, Truebies! Your usual recapper, the fab Mehera Bonner, is off this week, so you're stuck with me. But don't worry! — there was so much fangbangin' goodness jam-packed into Season 4, Episode 6: "I Wish I Was the Moon", there's virtually no way I'm going to F this up.
The Ex Files
OK! So Eric and Sookie move their hot-and-heavy snogfest over to the couch. Clothes are quickly tossed aside, and just as Eric's about to move in for a handful of heavy fairy petting, Bill bursts through the door. Which, you know, totally kills the mood. After drawing their fangs, Bill and Eric engage it a bit of ole-fashioned vampire wrasslin', and much to my delight, Eric totally kicks Bill's pale, sorry ass.
But when Sookie breaks the news to Eric that he's just assaulted his king (super whoops!), Eric quickly apologizes for opening that can of whoop-ass. Unfortunately, the king isn't in a particularly forgiving mood (shocker!), and the viking vamp is tossed into a cell in Bill's basement prison compound.
Eric's incarceration sparks some truly memorable Bill and Sookie banter, with Bill's "Believe it or not, my entire existence does not revolve around what or who is between your legs" definitely taking the cake for biggest "Oh No You Didn't" of the night.
Although Sookie begs her former bed-buddy not to hurt Eric, Bill has her thrown off the property. Way to win her back, buddy!
Downstairs in the dungeon, Eric quickly realizes that the lump of a manky blankets in the corner isn't a bunch of dirty prison laundry — it's Pam. The rapidly-decomposing vamp tries to squash Eric's blind (and slightly hilarious) allegiance to King Bill by reminding him of their fun-filled days of raping and pillaging, but the amnesiac softly laments that he doesn't want to remember the vampire brute he was. Which, of course, sends Pam into floods of bloody tears, which do nothing for her already crumbling complexion.
Upstairs, Bill's vamp-Skypeing with the always no-nonsense Nan Flanagan to get her permission to give Eric the true death, and Nan agrees.
Meanwhile, across town, Terry and Arlene's house of horrors is quickly turning into a blazing inferno. For reasons only a truly dedicated mother could explain, Arlene races over to Mikey's crib to save her newborn babe, but the little devil bundle of joy is nowhere to be found.
Terry drags his hysterical missus out of the blaze just in time of the powder keg to blow, and as Arlene starts wailing about Mikey, her other kids (remember them?!) chime in and say that they found the little guy sitting by himself on the lawn. With CreepyDoll. Which, what? I have to say, of all the out-there True Blood storylines, I'm totally into this slow-burn of a "what the hell?!" plot point!
Anyway, Arlene gratefully scoops up the wee tot, who looks over Arlene's shoulder and starts giggling and waving at a smiling woman dressed in white. Who's, what — a ghost? CreepyDoll's original owner? Yet another character for us to keep track of? (Seriously, I'm going to have to start making a flowchart if True Blood adds anyone else to their roster!)
Sam I Am
The next day Sam, who's up to his shifter eyes in house-splosion dramz, calls Tommy and asks him to look after Merlotte's for the day. Because, you know, if there's anyone that Sam can trust to run his business and livelihood, it's his illiterate, parent-murdering excuse for a brother.
Tommy agrees, but quickly turns into a swampy puddle of backwater hot mess. After hatefully staring at himself in the mirror, he starts smacking his face so hard that POOF!, he accidentally shifts into his brother. I guess that creeptastic Indian tale Luna told a few episodes back (the one about how shifters who kill their parents are able to shift into other people) is finally paying off!
After Tommy-as-Sam flirts with some girls at Merlotte's and fires Sookie (!), Luna makes a surprise, moonlit bootycall to Sam's place. Strangely, the thought of having to have sex in another body doesn't phase Tommy, and he wastes no time taking Luna up on her indecent proposal. But as soon as the pair finish getting down with their bad shifter selves, Tommy all but throws a half-naked Luna out of the house, telling her to get lost.
Once alone, Tommy crumples to the ground in pain, morphs back into his own, way-less-sexy body, and ralphs into the kitchen sink. Later, Sam comes home to find the kid passed out on the floor. And since it's safe to assume that Luna wasn't that bad in bed, I'm guessing that shifting into another human form has some pretty nasty, vom-inducing side effects.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Bon Temps, Tara's snoozing on the couch with a gun tucked under the pillow (natch!), until she's jarred by a loud thumping on the front door. Fortunately it's just her girlfriend, Naomi, who's uber-pissed that Tara had been pretending to be someone else. Really, though, the whole exchange just made me feel even more sorry for poor Tara; because, not only is her girlfriend played by the worst actress in the world (sorry, Anna Paquin, someone just stole your thunder!), she's also just about as agro and terrifying as any of the other vampires who've used and abused Tara in the past.
So the two end up having mostly consensual sex (again, poor the Tara!); but really, the only slightly uplifting thing about the entire scene is Tara's adorable, polka-dotted underwear. I mean, who would have guessed that a cage-fighting lesbian could have such cute intimate apparel?
After treating Naomi to a romantic, "sorry I lied about my real identity" dinner at Merlotte's, the sapphic sweethearts take a sweet, moonlit stroll through the restaurant parking lot. And just as Tara's about to agree to kick Bon Temps to the curb and head back to NOLA for another round of Sapphic cage fighting, and just as I'm convinced that finally — finally! — Tara will get a taste of some much-deserved happiness, Pam shows up, fangs blazing and out for blood. Sorry, T! — this ain't your night.
South of the Border
Over in Mexico, or wherever the hell they've ended up, Lafayette's sitting down for a delicious, home-cooked meal of goat's tongue at Jesus' grandaddy's shriek shack. As it turns out, gramps isn't exactly thrilled that his grandson and former protege ditched him 20 years ago (although, on the bright side, gramps does seem to be super progressive and totally down with the gays; so, you know, "go, grampa!" for that one!).
Anyway, the old man says the only way he'll help his grandson's sorry ass if Jesus brings him a sacrifice. And we're not talking about a "New Year's resolution"-type sacrifice here — we're talking about a blood sacrifice. They head out to the countryside and bring a slithering rattlesnake sacrifice back to gramps, who tells them that snakes are a gateway to the spirit realm. And after casting some kind of crazy, terrifyingly hallucinogenic spell, gramps tosses the snake into Jesus' face. The rattlesnake bites him and he starts gasping for life.
Simultaneously, Lafayette is momentarily possessed by somebody called Tio Luca, rambles off a whole bunch of cray-cray nonsense in Spanish, and then snaps back out of it as his boyfriend seems to be recover. Sofar, Lafayette and Jesus' Mexican jaunt isn't the romantic getaway I had hoped for.
Back in Bon Temps, it's a full moon ... which can only mean all the town's supes are out in full force. Alcide comes home from a busy day of being the most handsome man in the world, only to discover the Shreveport packleader and Debbie getting chummy on the couch. Alcide, what have I been telling you: Never trust a woman who looks like a washed-up Guns N' Roses groupie!
It turns out the the always trustworthy Deb has signed up for the pack (it's part of her 12-step program or something), and the packleader (and since I can't seem to find his name anywhere, let's call him "Carl"), is gunning for Alcide to join as well. And really, if you saw a packless werewolf as unbelievably stunning looking as Alcide, wouldn't you beg him to join your group, too?
Sookie's busy watching after Jason, who's 'fessed up to kinda-sorta-maybe being a werepanther. But he takes off on a panicky jaunt through the woods — which summons Jessica (don't forget about their sexy new blood link, y'all!). Jason ultimately comes out of the closet as a maybe werepanther, and begins doubling over in agony. Thankfully, Jessica properly diagnoses Jason's symptoms: He's not suffering from a were-conversion, but from a good old-fashioned panic attack.
After talking Jason out of his panther-induced panic, Jess confesses that the night she was made was the scariest night of her life — and that she won't let Jason go through that alone. Except, after hours of moonbathing, Jason realizes he's not gonna turn. Strangely, the big lug seems sort of bent out of shape, and confides in Jessica that, compared to Sookie, he's never felt special.
Jessica quickly chimes in that Jason is one of the most special guys she knows — a sweet but suggestive gesture that quickly makes things super awkward between the two. The friends agree to never to tell Hoyt about their weird, moonlit meet-up; and even though Jason ends the night with the most forcefully platonic shoulder pat in the world, the sexual chemistry between these two is so intense, I'm surprised they didn't set the whole damn forest on fire.
Meanwhile, Sookie's still stumbling around the pitch-black forest looking for Jason — you know, like any sane, rational person in a monster-infested hellmouth would do — when she stumbles into Debbie and Alcide, who are on their way to meet the Shreveport pack. She grills her sexy wolf-friend about the hows and whys of werecreatures, and finally learns that werefolk can't be made — that it's completely hereditary. Man, and who would have thought Crystal and her meth-head half-wit clan could have gotten that so wrong?!
What a Witch
Over at Bill's little homemade penal colony, Marnie's scratching her arms like a horny werepanther in heat, trying to use the blood to summon everyone's favorite scorned Spaniard, Antonia. In the end, Marnie ends up having another trippy, Spanish Inquisition flashback where Antonia, who had just been used as a feedbag by the vamp priests, is being raped by Father Luis — who, by the way, is doing absolutely nothing to dispel those pesky priest/sexual predator stereotypes.
In the next flash, Marnie sees Antonia, who's being burned at the stake, using an incantation to lure a bunch of vampires into the daylight and towards their amazingly combustible deaths. Marnie eventually regains consciousness, only to be fully possessed by the spirit of a way pissed-off Antonia. One of Bill's guards observes a transformed-looking Marnie and heads down to her cell to investigate.
Big mistake! — especially since it turns out that the guard is none other than Father Luis! He quickly recognizes Marnie as the embodiment of Antonia; but his fangs are no match for Marnie/Antonia's way-cool new vamp-controlling super powers. Luis, prepare to meet your maker.
I Die for You
Up above, Bill summons Eric for the true death. After calmly accepting his grisly fate, a totally zen-like Eric asks Bill to release Pam (since, at this rate, she'll be a pile of fertilizer in no time), and asks his king to thank Sookie for him for showing him what it means to love (swoon!). Eric raises the royal stake high above his head, and ...!
Rocket scientist Sookie is still wandering through the woods, screaming at the top of her lungs, when she runs smack dab into — wait for it — Eric! Finally reunited, Eric and Sookie walk through the forest, quietly agreeing that it's better for everyone if they just remain friends.
While Neko Case's hauntingly beautiful "I Wish I Was the Moon" plays in the background, Sookie and Eric get nekkid, lie on the moonlit forest floor, and finally — finally! — have the super-hot sexy we've all been waiting for.
So what did you think, True Blood fans — was is as good for you as it was for Eric and Sookie? Sound off in the comments!