When the season-long plot arc is resolved with twenty minutes still to go, you know this is a jam-packed season finale. There are no fewer than seven storylines going on, so let's get right to it.

Run, Sookie, Run!

Sookie bullies her way past a hapless guard to see Jason, who has reached a bit of a zen state about being incarcerated for murdering several women. He's already got a visitor, Rene, who is quite interested when Sookie starts babbling to Jason about being close to tracking down the real killer. The camera hilariously sharpens its focus on his "oh shit!" face, like we're watching a scene from a Passions episode or something. Rene tries to be nonchalant while asking some pointed questions both in his head and out loud, and he's saved from having to murder Sookie right in front of Jason when she says she has a name but doesn't know what the guy looks like.

My Ever-Patient Mister and I sat down with a fair degree of trepidation last night to watch what he calls Too Much Blood -- we're still recovering from Eddie's sticky demise last week. But at the end of the hour, he turned to me and said, "Well, that was pretty good." Which, for My E-P Mister, is akin to opening the back door and hollering, "True Blood rocks!" for all the neighbors to hear. What made the difference? Well, it wasn't the various retarded adolescents. I don't mean 'retarded' as in 'developmentally disabled,' I mean 'retarded' as in 'lagging behind.' Sookie Stackhouse, with her "love the one you're with" mentality? Such a teenage thing to do. Jason and Amy, with their on-again, off-again, hide-the-evidence-down-the-disposal approach to life? Tara driving drunk and to hell with the consequences? None of them act like grownups. Jessica, the ultimate (and now eternal) adolescent, at least has a good excuse for her teenage rebellion, what with being newly undead, ravenous, and stuck with a Goody Two Shoes like Bill Compton for a vamp!daddy. Fortunately, the real grown-ups -- Pam, Eric, Kenya, and even Bill, sourpuss that he is, saved the night from turning into Bon Temps 90210.

Recapper's Note: You may have noticed that we didn't post a True Blood recap last week. That's because Annie was so grossed out by the first few minutes of "Plaisir d'Amour" that she turned it off, and I was too busy working as a Comfort Captain for the Obama campaign to sub. [Hey, I figure if you can stomach blood porn, the stated presidential preference of a random recapper probably won't offend your sensibilities.] I'm not sure who True Blood's target demographic is supposed to be, but over the course of ten episodes, it's lost me. And that's a shame because I adore the Sookie Stackhouse books. I buy them in hard cover, for crying out loud. I've re-read several multiple times, and I have pimp copies in paperback to help lure friends to the joys of Sookie and her crazy band of vamps, shifters, and things that go bump in the night. The show, though…man, the show seems so thrilled that it's allowed to show voluminous blood-letting and gratuitous sex that that's all it does, and that was never more true than in "Plaisir d'Amour." Did anyone enjoy seeing Sookie get soaked in that come shot of Longshadow's puked-up deathblood? And if you did, should we worry about you? I spent the remainder of the episode trying to get those images out of my head and fast-forwarding through Jason and Amy's creeptacular new porno, The Little Mermaid Does Bon Temps. I know Alan Ball can do better: the first season of Six Feet Under was stellar television, and he was smart enough to cast Alex Skarsgard, but there's not enough Eric in the world to make up for the crap that went across my screen last week. HBO and Alan, you've already committed to a second season for the show. My advice? Sexy up the sex, tone down the blood, and give Alexander Skarsgard more to do. LOTS more.

Sometimes, watching this show feels like using the public restroom at a gas station in Bucksnort, TN: I can smell the disinfectant, so I know someone cleaned, but I wonder what they're covering up that requires that degree of killjuice.

Pam's got no patience for this fool

We pick up right where we left off last week, with Sookie losing her actual virginity and vampire bite virginity to Bill. For anyone interested in naked body parts, Anna Paquin's breasts are awesome but Stephen Moyer's ass is not as cute as Ryan Kwanten's. Someone needs to do a few clenches, is all I'm saying.

Previously on True Blood: Oh, my God! They killed Granny!

"GRAN'S GONE. SHE'S REALLY GONE" -- Remember "The Body"? That episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer after Buffy's mom died? Where they eliminated the soundtrack and only included ambient sound? And Buffy walked around for the entire episode numb with shock and behaved in a kind of weird, disjointed way? Well, this episode is like that. I mean, a lot like that, only bloodier. A lot bloodier. Poor Gran's still lying there in her pool of blood while Sookie stands over her, shaking. First Bill, then Sam arrive on the scene, setting the triangular tone that continues throughout the episode; both men want to be the one she turns to in her grief. They snarl around each other over the honor of metaphorically pissing in her corner while Sookie retreats more and more into herself. The two men basically end up sharing sentry duty, with Sam on the day shift and Bill on the nightshift. If Sookie never had to sleep, she could probably make that threesome work for a good long time.

RIP, Gran

When we last left Sookie, our heroine just watched Bill mindrape a cop and got a shocking lesson on how her vampire boyfriend is not a "big, fluffy puppy with bad teeth." Bill pulls up to Stackhouse Manor and tries to justify his actions to an angry Sookie but she gets him to admit that if she hadn't been there Bill would've bitten the cop. He thinks she should stop being afraid of everything she doesn't understand and, seriously? Has he met Sookie? This is a tiny blonde girl who saved his ass from being drained by two very mean rednecks. Fear is something she could probably use a little more of. She coldly informs him that she can see herself to the door and, stung, Bill snots back that he won't call on her again. In the woods, the friendly neighborhood watchdog is, er, watching. And he falls more on the "creepy" rather than "friendly" side just now.

I could probably hone this recap down to a couple of pithy phrases that would go something like this: "Jason's dick is an eggplant!" and "Eric is a hotass!" But if I did that, I wouldn't get paid you'd miss out on Tara's latent romanticism, and Sam's super-creepy sense of smell, and the emergence, finally, of Sookie's bodacious ta-tas, so screw concision -- I'll give them all their due.

 Does this seem like a good idea? (Photo from true-blood.tv)

Previously on True Blood: Sex! Violence! More sex! More violence! Gotta love HBO!

Young, dumb, and full of...well, you know.

We pick up where we left off, with Sookie getting her ass handed to her by the Rattrays. The couple takes a break to make out because beating someone to death is totally hot. When the Rattrays get back to their task, the friendly neighborhood watchdog appears and starts growling at them. Mack aims a gun at the dog but Sookie grabs his ankle to distract him and suddenly Mack is flung high into the trees and dies with awesomely squishy sounds. Denise only has a second to wonder what's going on before she also dies a gruesome death, courtesy of something moving too fast for anyone to see. Sookie lies gasping, bleeding and unable to move as someone walks over and crouches down next to her.