So we start this episode with Big Pussy, Christopher, and Paulie delivering a refrigerator. Oh, did you miss the episode where they decided to go straight and started an appliance store out on Route 3? So did I. But wait! All three pull out their really big loud guns and grab some suit when he opens his apartment door. Those wacky writers -- they didn't go straight at all! It was a big joke! Hoo! Paulie lets the suit know that this is a message to his friends not to go to Jersey, not even on Sunday. Through the duct tape on his mouth, the suit says he'll tell him. Paulie says they've been told. Twice. Now he'll tell them. And then he shoots the suit in the head. Then they steal all his money. Which is a lot. We're talking suitcases of cash here, folks. Not to say that crime pays or anything.
Meanwhile, back in Nutley, Tony is thanking his Stupid Neighbor for recommending Dr. Melfi by giving him a big ol' box of cigars. Stupid Neighbor is about to refuse, but then realizes that they are Cuban cigars. So he keeps them, but not before asking, "These are illegal, right?" And Tony backhands him and tells him to get out, because such rampant stupidity is not allowed in the Soprano house. Oh, but wait, it is. Anyway, Tony just confirms that they are Cuban. And one quick aside, Cuban cigars are legal in every country in the entire world except for the US. If you wanted Cubans, it would really not be hard to, say, do some, uh, personal importing. Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. So anyway, shut up, Stupid Neighbor. Tony takes a phone call from Paulie, who tells him that the thing happened and Juan Valdez has been separated from his donkey. Which is gangster-speak for something. Maybe I'll go buy a Mobster/English dictionary today. Stupid Neighbor tells Tony that he's been watching him putt in the backyard and invites him to come down and play golf at the Club, 'cause I guess Tony's been slumming it and playing at the public course. Tony says he'll think about it.
At some hotel, Paulie and Tony are in his-and-hers terry bathrobes while Christopher shows off the cash. Tony is excited and wants to use the cash to go legit. If by "legit" you mean "setting up a phony IPO and a brokerage firm to sell off stocks, after artificially inflating the price using insider trading tips." Their discussion of the stock market is cut off by the appearance of the Russian goomahs, who send them off to the Jacuzzi. And I'm not going to actually quote the little lady, because the image she created is not one I am really savoring. Thank me later. Christopher decides to forego the festivities in order to celebrate with Adriana. And I don't blame him at all, 'cause I wouldn't want to sit in a big Jacuzzi with Tony and Paulie either.
Christopher and Adriana are waiting on line at a really crowded burger joint after a night out on the town. I can't decide if Christopher tells Adriana everything or not. Does she know that he just killed some guy and took all his money and that's why they got to sit fifth row center at Rent and eat at Le Cirque? And how connected is he, anyway? I mean, I sort of doubt that even Tony could walk up and get those seats or that table. ["And what do they want burgers for if they just ate at Le Cirque?" -- Sars] Oh, whatever. Christopher starts to talk about his feelings, but then remembers that he's a Soprano and decides to pitch a fit about the crap-ass service at the burger joint. The entire place is filled with African-Americans just waiting. And waiting. Adriana ignores Christopher's racist hissyfitting and wonders aloud what it would be like to own a restaurant like Le Cirque. Christopher scoffs at her for picking a new career every thirty seconds, but she reminds him that it's that or ending up like Carmela Soprano with kids and stretch marks. Christopher makes some tacky Mark Fuhrman joke that finally gets him served. As they order, some man in a blue suit that Adriana had noticed earlier points out that Adriana looks pretty embarrassed by Christopher's bratting. A cop tells one of the man in blue's "homies" that Christopher is only a brat because he's hooked up with the Sopranos. Personally, I think he would be a brat anyway. In the parking lot, Adriana and Christopher are approached by some of the men from the burger joint, who tell them that they are affiliated with Massive Genius, the man in blue; he's a rapper who wants to talk business with the Soprano crew at a party he's having. They head over to Englewood Cliffs, and Christopher and Massive engage in a brief pissing war that ends when Massive tells Christopher that his people are all right, because Massive has seen The Godfather a bazillion times and Godfather III was just misunderstood. So that settles that, I guess. Massive gets down to business by explaining that he wants to set up a meeting with Hesh, because back in the day Hesh owned a record label that robbed Massive's distant cousin of his royalties. The cousin's song was a hit, but the family never saw any money. Massive wants the money his cousin is owed to give to his mom. Christopher opines that Hesh is the sweetest man he knows, but he's heard his opinion about giving back pieces of Israel and he can't even imagine what his opinion would be on this.
Back at their apartment, Christopher complains about the unfairness of life. How he is a real-life Original Gangster, but Massive has the swinging pad in the Hamptons while he has to hang out in the back of a pork store, and the Sopranos are so secretive and old-school and Junior wears moldy sweaters and blah blah blah. Christopher says that his crew used to run the music business, that they would threaten DJs into playing Italian singers' records, but now anyone with a drum machine and a rhyme could become a star. Oh, for the good old days when Italian music ruled the radio. Adriana ignores him and turns up the Bon Jovi. There's some real Italian music for you.
Tony walks into the house and comes upon Carmela reading college brochures in the kitchen. She tells him that they were invited to a barbecue by some of their neighbors. Not the Stupid Neighbors, but someone else. Tony makes a face and says something about "mayonnaise that lives up the street" that I didn't quite catch. I really must buy that dictionary today. Hopefully, I'll be able to find one that translates the specific Jersey mob dialect that they use on the show. ["'Mayonnaise' means 'non-Italian white people.' It's a slam on our crappy taste in sandwich meat, from what I understand." -- Sars] Carmela changes the subject to how much college costs these days, and how would she support herself and the kids if Tony were rubbed out. Tony tells her not to worry, that she'll be taken care of, and her only concern should be telling the funeral director not to put to much make-up on his corpse. She does her patented Carmela eye-roll-snort-hand-wave combo and tells him not to joke about those things. He tells her she'll be taken care of, but she wants to know by whom. Then she notices that he's in a really good mood and asks him if he just made a big score. He says no for some reason, and she tells him it's multiple choice with him. He's either old-fashioned, paranoid, or just an asshole. Which was kind of random, but deserved. Tony says they can go to the barbecue, and tells her that Stupid Neighbor asked him to play golf at the club. Ah, social climbing.
At another restaurant, Adriana is pitching an idea to Christopher about entering into the music business. She reminds him about how Italians used to run the biz and how he said there was a lot of money in it and how she knows some band that is really good. She wants to pitch the band, Defiler, to Massive Genius and give the music management business a go. And, you know, this show does a great job of making this a realistic couple. Sure, it's a screwy, semi-abusive, codependent relationship, but I know plenty of couples who are like that. Well, not plenty, but at least one or two. But I like Christopher and Adriana as a couple, because they both have big dreams, but they are kind of lost and unsure of how to realize their ideas. So they're always trying new things and they are, in their own fucked-up way, really supportive of each other. Anyway.
Adriana and Christopher are back in their apartment, and Defiler is sucking up the air waves. And I do mean sucking. Christopher thinks they suck some serious ass, too, but he's willing to give Adriana the money anyway, because she listens to the radio a lot and she would know what was good. Hey, I listen to the radio a lot and I know what's good. And Defiler is NOT GOOD. But I'm sure they'll figure this out by the end of the episode.
Christopher has managed to set up an interview between Massive and Hesh out at Hesh's farm. Both of them bring their crews to intimidate each other, but I guess they just kind of cancel each other out. Massive gets straight to the point and asks Hesh about all the songs he "co-wrote" with Massive's cousin Little Jimmy. He wants to know what happened to all the royalties. Hesh says they had their own writing process and they had their own rules. They were hard-nosed back then, but they also gave a lot of "poor Negro youths" their chance on the big stage.
Massive is not really impressed with this assessment of the benevolence of the old music-business moguls, and tells Hesh that he wants reparations for Little Jimmy's royalties. Tony is ready to rumble, but Christopher pipes up that Hesh "should do what's right," which is a sentiment Hesh feels is way out of line for Christopher to offer. I guess Christopher is just sucking up to Massive on Adriana's behalf by annoying Hesh. Both sides sit down to talk, and Hesh wants to know what's in it for Massive. Massive quotes Chuck D's theory about the need to seek reparations for royalties on behalf of African-American performers who were swindled by Hollywood studios and music moguls. Hesh says he's picking on the wrong white man, because he's Jewish and Jews got screwed just as much as African Americans. Massive just wants the $400,000 his lawyers estimate are Little Jimmy's royalties. He wants to give the money to Little Jimmy's mom. Isn't that sweet? But wait. Massive is totally loaded, as we saw by his Rolls Royce and his styling Englewood pad; can't he just cut the mom a check himself?
Anyhoo. There's a dinner party at Stupid Neighbor's house. They are discussing the Sopranos and their crazy gangster lifestyle. Stupid Neighbor's wife says that there's a new car in the driveway every week. And Stupid Neighbor mentions the cigars and tells Dr. Melfi (who is a guest) that they were meant as a thank you for referring Tony to her. One guest asks about property values with a gangster in the neighborhood, and Stupid Neighbor points out that they live on the safest block in town. The guests compare Mob business practices to all-American business practices, and Stupid Neighbor says that the only difference he can see is "fucking whacking somebody." Giggle giggle. I'm sick of this conversation.
Defiler is ruining my appetite by playing a set at some club. Massive is sitting with Adriana, Christopher, and a whole bunch of Bud Lights. Okay, all these people have money. Why would they be drinking Bud Light? I mean, really. Christopher acknowledges that this isn't really Massive's type of music, but Massive points out that he likes any type of music that "turns shit green." Which I guess means money-making. Turns out the band no longer plays metal, but has opted for churning out the schmaltzy rock ballads that were so popular before the boy-band phenomenon. Defiler has also changed their name to Visiting Day, which is real, um, catchy, and Adriana thinks they blow Matchbox 20 away. Which, I must add, would not be hard. The audience hates Visiting Day almost as much as I do, which Adriana blames on being in the wrong sort of club. Christopher asks Massive if he's interested in the band. Massive is interested, all right. Interested in Adriana.
Back to the stupid dinner party, where Stupid Neighbor is still talking about mobsters. Dr. Melfi looks increasingly agitated and annoyed and gets up to go to the bathroom. She uses the opportunity to spy over at the Sopranos' house, but is startled by a loud noise that sounds like a struggle or torture coming from Tony's house. She does not look amused.
Christopher is expressing his doubts about the band. He points out that Richie, the lead singer, is thirty and still lives with his parents. Adriana says that he only lives at home because of "the accident," when he tried to cook trout with a downed power line. If he had died, that would have put Richie in the running for the Darwin Awards. Christopher is continuing to be supportive of Adriana, but doubtful about the music management biz and the crap-ass band that Adriana has chosen to promote. He reminds her that music isn't something that she can hold in her hand like a Coke or a monkey. Adriana knows all that, but she also knows good art when she sees it, and she sees it in Defiler. Perhaps she is also seeing the walls melt and a third hand sprouting out of Christopher's forehead?
Tony is at Dr. Melfi's, saying that his wife wants him to meet new people, a prospect to which he is not exactly looking forward. He goes on and on to Dr. Melfi, 'cause she's Italian and she should understand, about how the average white man is not very conversationally exciting. Dr. Melfi and I ask, "Are you saying you don't consider yourself white?" Tony clarifies for us that he does not mean "white" as in "Caucasian, " but "white" as in "uptight and stupid," like Stupid Neighbor. A person his father would have called a "white-bread Wop." A person who eats his Sunday gravy out of a jar. I'm not sure what that means, but I'm sure it's not a good thing. Dr. Melfi redirects the conversation and asks Tony why he doesn't branch out and meet new people. He says it's because of the guys, who may get their feelings hurt if he hung out with new people. 'Cause underneath their tough, hard-nosed wise-guy personas, they're all just little girlie-men. Dr. Melfi tells Tony that she was at a dinner party at Stupid Neighbor's last night, and wonders if he heard any strange noises. Noises that sounded like someone was screaming in pain. Tony stares at her for a moment, trying to figure out whether she's accusing him of something, but then he just says no and turns to leave. Then he turns back to say, "You saw my house," and gives her this funny uncomfortable look as he walks out the door. I have to say, I love these two together -- they're just so weird! It kind of makes me itchy.
Tony and Carmela are at the barbecue they were invited to by the neighbors. It's already boys against girls. Carmela's helping set the table, and the men -- well, the men are doing that thing where they all gather around the barbecue and stare at the meat as if it holds all the answers to life's little questions. 'Cause a hot dog is a wise piece of meat. And then the sausage jokes start rolling. But they're not even good sausage jokes, they're just annoying. Here's a sample, offered, of course, by Stupid Neighbor: "Know what's better than a sausage? A pair of tits." Funny? No. Annoying? Yes. Okay, enough with the jokes. They talk stocks. Tony is all ears because of his upcoming IPO scam, but the men aren't giving him anything but the hand. Cut to Carmela, who is having much better luck with the women, who are also discussing stocks. They say it's all about American Biotics, a pharmaceutical company that has developed an almost side-effect-free impotence medicine. Carmela is excited. Not about the impotence medicine, gutter mind. About the fact that Jersey housewives play the stock market. Remember, she's been looking for a way to support herself in the manner to which she's become accustomed in case Tony ends up swimming with the fishes. Or worse, swimming in the Jersey Meadows. She gets the stock tip Tony was digging for and tucks it away for later use.
Hesh sits in his studio, which is lined with gold records, promo posters, and photos of bands, listening to Little Jimmy's song and sipping some serious Scotch. The camera is panning slowly over all the photos, so you can tell he's sentimental and pondering just what to do about his little pickle. Not that little pickle. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Defiler is really terrible. I mean it. They remind me of the musical fall-out of the Pearl Jam/Soundgarden era that plagued Seattle and Portland for years. There were so many mediocre bands pouring into the area, hoping to ride the coattails of grunge into mainstream musical stardom and six-digit record deals, and there were so many A-and-R people coming in and signing just absolute crap bands. These label people were completely encouraging the creation of shitty Green River rip-offs in the vague hope that one of the bands they signed would become the Nirvana. Which, of course, never happened, because the bands (in general) SUCKED and played such derivative schlock that it sounded like they copied the lyrics and tune from some fill-in-the-blank grunge Mad Libs-style book. No one would buy the records, let alone pay to go see them in concert. I remember one band that actually paid people to see them play so that they would look popular for some guy from Atlantic Records who said he might be in the audience that night. Losers. Anyway. Defiler's really annoying me. And they're starting to annoy the sound engineer at the studio that Christopher has booked them in. They've done sixty-two takes over the last three days. The engineer wants to bag it and go home, but Christopher is having none of it. He whines at the engineer. He whines at Richie. He whines so much that the dog starts whining at me, and I have to put him outside to put him out of his misery. Christopher throws a bag of cocaine at Richie and tells him he'd better snort some, because he's paying three hundred dollars an hour for the studio time and they'd better finish the fucking song. Richie says that he doesn't do drugs anymore and that Kinko's gave him five days off to do the recording. Christopher flips and tells him to either go suck on another downed power line or shoot up the crank. Richie refuses and tells him that the problem was that the bass and drums were miked wrong. The engineer flips at the one and tells him the real problem was that he sucks. Or at least that his songs suck, because they have no choruses. Are you bored with this yet? Me too. I'll sum up. Guitar smashing, yelling, stomping, more yelling, Christopher storming out.
Back at the Sopranos' nest (heh), Carmela is on the phone with the stockbroker, uh, stocking up on American Biotics, um, stock. Meadow looks stunned that her mother is playing the market, but Carmela tells her that women are better savers because they're nurturers, and she needs to take care of her baby birds if Big Bird dies. She was about to give Meadow a lecture on the lessons of life, but she opted for a day of beauty at Georgette Klinger instead. 'Cause if you look good, you can get yourself a man to take care of you. Now that's a life lesson.
Tony decided to take up Stupid Neighbor on his offer of a round of golf at the Club. All the stupid friends of Stupid Neighbor are oohing and aahing over Tony's putt (?). You'll have to bear with me, I don't know anything about golf. As they walk, uh, somewhere, some random stupid guy asks Tony if he ever played golf at Al's place down in Florida. Al Capone's place, that is. Tony blows him off, only to be asked a question by the other random stupid guy about how realistic The Godfather was. Tony gives Stupid Neighbor some serious stink-eye over this harassment, and Stupid Neighbor, to his credit, looks a bit uncomfortable. But it's hard to tell whether he looks uncomfortable because his friends are assholes or because he's afraid Tony will call a hit on him. I'm hoping for the hit. Stupid Neighbor's stupid friends continue to make asses of themselves by referencing GoodFellas and asking about John Gotti. Tony tries to pretend he isn't bothered by this, but he obviously is. James Gandolfini is a good actor.
Adriana, Christopher, and Massive Genius are listening to the demo that Defiler put together. It involves cat sounds. It's a little frightening. Christopher plays it for Hesh, who agrees with me that it is complete shit and that Christopher would have put his money to better use by using the bills as toilet paper. Well, okay, Hesh was nicer, but not much.
Tony sits in Dr. Melfi's office, talking about golfing with the assholes. He's drawing a parallel to a kid, Jimmy, in his old neighborhood who had a cleft palate and used to hang around Tony's crew. They used to laugh at him all the time, but Jimmy didn't mind because he got to hang out with the popular kids. They would encourage him to sing so they could laugh at him, but when the laughs got old, they quit calling and then, years later, Tony found out that Jimmy had run home every night and cried himself to sleep. Tony says that he felt bad, but he never knew what it felt like to be used for someone else's amusement until he played golf with his Stupid Neighbor. Aw. That's a really poignant story. Dr. Melfi has nothing to add, but she wants to know what happened to Jimmy. He's in prison for robbery. The cops identified him by his distinctive cleft palate voice.
Massive Genius is sitting by the pool when Hesh calls to not negotiate a deal. Massive tells him he's ready to rumble. Tony assumes he means physically, and calls his gangster cred into question. Massive talks about his rough childhood and his urban planning degree, and then tells Hesh and Tony that he's not looking for a turf war, he's looking for a lawsuit. Hesh says that's fine, but he'll have to counter-sue because Massive unlawfully sampled a song that Hesh owns the rights to. Whatever, no? Yes.
Adriana is modeling dresses to wear to the MTV Music Awards. Maybe she thinks she's going with Massive, because she surely can't think she's going with Defiler. Can she? Oh, the poor misguided thing. Anyway, she's trying on dresses. There's an Alaïa and a Donatella Versace. Christopher says she can have them both, but he doesn't look very excited about any of it and Adriana wants to know why. Perhaps because you just spent five thousand dollars on two dresses? Just guessing. Christopher wants to talk about positive visualization; he wants Adriana to mentally prepare for the possibility that Defiler sucks. She, of course, is not so happy to hear this, especially when Christopher tells her that the only reason she got so far with Massive is because Massive wants to get in her pants. And, gentlemen? FYI, that is probably the worst thing you can ever say to your girl. Really. Just avoid that comment whenever possible, even if it may be true. Christopher and Adriana argue some more, and Adriana accuses him of just trying to keep her down and being jealous and not loving her, and then she leaves to go to her mother's. And Christopher pretty much deserved it. I mean, I realize that Jersey Cosa Nostra types aren't renowned for their communication skills, but that was a pretty lame showing.
Tony hatches a plan to get back at Stupid Neighbor. He is going to hand him a box and just ask him to hold on to it for awhile, and let Stupid Neighbor's gangland imagination take over. Hee hee hee. After Stupid Neighbor tells Tony that the Club is closed to new members, sorry, Tony giggles to himself and heads down to the basement to lift weights. And when he settles onto the weight bench, the mysterious noises Dr. Melfi heard are finally explained as Tony grunts and struggles with the bench press. Oh.
Christopher sits in the back room of the Bing, listening to a song by some unidentifiable (to me) band. Hesh walks in and tells him that the song he's listening to, that's a hit. Christopher just looks at him as he walks out of the room.
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