I was in a secondhand store in Baltimore yesterday, and I saw a bright yellow wooden end table with a map of New Jersey embedded in the glass top. I would have bought it, too, if it weren't sixty dollars. I have a forty-dollar limit on funny furniture. I like my laughs cheap.
Anyway.
Junior, Tony, and the rest of the capos are discussing business. It looks like they rented out the conference room in the Ramada Inn on Route 3. It's got the wood paneling and the furniture that is designed not to be ergonomic but economic. Like Starbucks. Or any office that requisitions its furniture from Staples, who may be experts on, say, staples or two-hole punches, but certainly couldn't tell a comfortable chair from a bucket of chicken. Do I sound bitter? I'm not. So they're gathered in their conference room, and they're talking about garbage collections or whatever it is that Jersey wiseguys do to make money, and Jimmy Altieri is asking lots of questions. Too many questions. Junior and Tony exchange knowing glances across the table, and after the meeting Junior approves the hit on Jimmy the Rat. Tony smiles and heads off to look for the complimentary breakfast bar.
Christopher and Jimmy the Rat are heading out -- or, rather, in -- for a night of entertainment at a local hotel at the hands of some Russian "ladies of the night" (as my mother calls them). Jimmy thought that Christopher couldn't stand Russian women, which, as a Russian woman, I'll try not to take personally. Ass. Christopher says that he just didn't like the ones Junior was bringing around, but Tony's goomah is Russian, and you couldn't ask for a nicer girl. Christopher, do you want to ask Carmela about that? Didn't think so. Jimmy asks if he has enough cologne on. Christopher opines that it smells like Paco Rabanne crawled up his ass and died. My grandma wears Paco Rabanne perfume; I'll have to try that line out on her. Jimmy tells Christopher to lay off, because he can't get the girls he used to be able to get. Jimmy, your head is so fat you have to iron your hats in the driveway, so I'm pretty skeptical about your assertion that you ever got a girl like these goomahs. I mean, without paying. And any sensible lady would charge you double -- once for you, and once for your big-ass head. I'm just saying. Then Jimmy has the gall to ask about Russian hygiene, like he's fucking Mr. Clean. Then he complains that Christopher wouldn't let him put anything decent on when he pulled him out of bed. Anything decent like, say, a wire? Christopher ignores him and knocks on a door. A pretty girl walks out in her skivvies. She pretends she's interested in Jimmy, an act that she pulls off hella better than I could have. Which is probably why she gets paid the big bucks. Christopher sends her out to get her friend while he and Jimmy wait in the room, which looks like it could be at the same Ramada as the conference. Jimmy takes a seat, and then Little Stevie and his hair come barreling out of a closet, guns blazing. Jimmy is all whatthefuck for about two seconds before he realizes that that they know about the wire, that he's not wearing the wire, and that he is totally fucked. He makes a feeble attempt to reach for his gun, but Little Stevie (or his hair) pulls the trigger and it's all over for fathead Jimmy the Rat.
“ Dr. Melfi says that, normally, a patient is guided to make his own conclusions about people and relationships, but since Tony's life is at stake, she's going to drop-kick him down the yellow brick road. ”
Meadow and some boy are groping on the couch while they watch some horror movie that I can't identify. The boy asks if she just heard her back gate creak open. Meadow whacks him on the arm and says that he's just trying to scare her. He says that he's scared her father will come home and find his Dominican ass feeling up his daughter. Yeah. Having a father in the Mafia could certainly put a damper on any premarital noodling. Suddenly Livia is outside the window all Alzheimered out, yelling for her sister. AJ stops choking his cannoli, crawls out of bed, and peers out the window -- an entire scene which proffered just way too much information about the lives of pubescent boys. Livia hollers at him or her dead sister, while Meadow runs to open the door. As Meadow explains to Livia that her sister is dead and that she, Meadow, is her granddaughter, the doorbell rings. AJ opens the door, and a police officer walks in, saying that he got a complaint about an old lady walking the streets. Yeah, I'd complain if Livia were walking down my street too. The officer asks Livia if she knows what time it is and what was she doing out there and is this her house and does she recognize AJ, and he ends every question in "dear," and I find it very grating. Like, shut! Up! Police officer, dear. Livia finally remembers that AJ is her grandson.
Tony and Dr. Melfi are discussing Livia: how she showed up at the house; what's to be done about it. Tony says that Livia is being re-tested for Alzheimer's, and that she is being moved to the nursing unit of the home. Which is just what she feared most. Tony feels guilty about it. Dr. Melfi points out that it has been a long odyssey with his mother, and doesn't he think it's interesting that his mother's memory loss started at the same time that there was a failed attempt on his life? Tony isn't sure what she's talking about. Hey, Cleopatra, scoot on over on that barge -- Tony wants a ride on de Nial too. Okay, okay. I'm sorry. That joke really was not funny. A hundred Hail Marys and a shot of tequila. Dr. Melfi asks him if he thinks that it was really a carjacking. Of course not, but he has a good idea who it was and, well, enough said. I can't believe that Dr. Melfi was encouraging him to discuss a subject that could very well make it necessary for her to breach patient-doctor privilege. Like threatening to murder someone. Did she just toss out that little tenet when she took "Patient X" on as a client? Don't the writers know that people watch Law & Order and know all about this stuff?
Anyway. Tony doesn't really want to go there. Dr. Melfi says that maybe he should go there, that it could be therapeutic. She starts to prod him to think it's a little strange that he was dreaming about Isabella, the idealized sweet protective mother, the day before he was shot. His subconscious was telling him something. Yeah, something like "dial down the dosage." Dr. Melfi says that, normally, a patient is guided to make his own conclusions about people and relationships, but since Tony's life is at stake, she's going to drop-kick him down the yellow brick road. She points out that, the day before he was shot, his mother was telling stories about infanticide, that those are her favorite topics of dinner conversation. She points out that, in his worst dreams, a duck flies off with his penis, and that while his mother never touched him below the beltway, a fear of castration still exists.
Tony wants Melfi to lay all her cards on the table. Does she really think that his mother, his *ahem* dear, sweet mother tried to have him whacked for putting her in a nursing home? Dr. Melfi knocks him upside the head with the DSM IV. She thinks Livia has all the high-tech features and functions of a borderline personality disorder: joyless, intense anxiety, internal phobias, no love or compassion, creating bitterness and conflict among family and friends. What I want to know is, what's so borderline about it? If anyone has an all-out personality disorder, it's Livia. Dr. Melfi describes the effect that borderline personality disorders have on the near and dear, without noticing the effect the description is having on Tony. Well, not until he knocks the glass top off her table with his fist and launches himself well into her personal space to point out, with his finger in her face, "That's my mother you're talking about and you're lucky if I don't break your face into fifty thousand pieces." I think she noticed that. As he storms out, Melfi rushes to lock and barricade her office door.
Carmela is having lunch with Jackie Aprile's widow, whose name I don't know, but who has obviously opted to wear lots of black eye shadow in lieu of a black armband. How very fashion forward. The lunching ladies are discussing how it was the work and all the agita that killed Jackie. Carmela agrees, but adds that Jackie's reign was peaceful and with the shots at Tony and everything, she just doesn't know what's happening. Jackie's widow (no, I can't remember her name) points out that if the cancer didn't take Jackie, sooner or later something else would have. And who knows what? Look at Mrs. Pussy; she has no idea what happened to her husband. Carmela nods in agreement as Artie comes out with a plate of bucatini, compliments of the house. The ladies gratefully accept it. And it really does look good. Hmm. Lunch break? Lunch break. Okay, I'm back. If anyone's curious, I did not have bucatini, opting instead for the vegetarian BLT. Can't beat fake bacon with a stick, no sirree. Carmela and the widow thank Artie for the food and tell him that the new Vesuvio is even better than the old one. He accepts their compliments and agrees that the insurance really paid off for him. I guess he's gotten over that whole arson issue and is just working with life's little lemons. He is a chef, after all. Not the Iron Chef, but a chef who probably makes some mean lemonade. I'll shut up now. Artie asks Carmela about Tony's mom. He heard a rumor. It must have been one of Liz Smith's slower days. Carmela confirms that it looks like it's Alzheimer's, and that Tony's awfully upset about it. Artie's upset too, since he's known "Mrs. S" since he was knee high to a macaroni and although she's somewhat of a character, it's still sad. I think by "somewhat" he meant "a whole big heckuva," and by "character" he meant "pain in the meatballs." He also feels bad for Tony because he already has a lot on his plate, what with the attempted carjacking and everything. Carmela nods her head in agreement as Artie excuses himself.
“ And woe be the girl who tries to get between an Italian boy and his mother. Trust me on this, I know of what I speak. ”
Artie heads into the kitchen, where his wife is busy getting her bitch on about the new Vesuvio turning into a mob hangout, and even though she loves Carmela like a sister, she's just not prepared to go say hello and encourage her to come back and eat again. I think my waitress last night loved me like that. She made fewer appearances than Halley's comet. Artie explains to his wife that having a mob clientele is good business for Italian restaurants and creates a certain buzz. His wife snorts and stomps off.
Carmela and the widow spot the young parish priest as he enters the restaurant, and they ask him to join them at their table. They talk about zabaglione recipes while finishing their meals. The priest and Carmela commiserate about Tony's lack of interest in turning to his clergyman in his time of need. If Tony read Ann Landers, he'd know that turning to a trusted member of the clergy is the only way to get through troubled times. The widow asks about the priest's watch; it's the same as her dead husband's. She gets weepy. The priest comforts her. See how easy that was? Got to love the clergy. Carmela raises her eyebrow at the priest's hands-on approach to comforting his flock.
Some dude heads to the recycling bin -- well, maybe I'm projecting that it's the recycling bin. He's probably heading for the trash; it is Jersey we're talking about here. Anyway, dude has an armful of empties and he's going to put them somewhere. Except he trips. And what does he trip on? Jimmy the Rat's dead body. And what does Jimmy the Rat have stuffed in his craw? A big ol' sewer rodent. Might want to tackle that one with the dental floss, Jimmy.
Tony decides to do his civic duty and talk to the feds about the attempted hit. He's escorted into an unfinished basement. I'm not sure why. Why wouldn't they just go to an office? Are they trying to protect Tony from rumors that he talked to the feds? But yet they showed up at his house? Oh, whatever. Tony's talking to the feds in an unfinished basement and they're trying to compel him to testify, but, like he said before, he really isn't interested. But the feds have something up their sleeve. You see, there are Italians who work for the feds, and there are Italians who don't. But what do they all have in common? A great love of their mothers. And woe be the girl who tries to get between an Italian boy and his mother. Trust me on this, I know of what I speak. And, with respect to Dr. Melfi, woe be the psychiatrist who gets between an Italian boy and his mother. And woe be the feds who, well, you know. But I guess the Italian fed knows all this, so when the Italian fed plays a tape for Tony, he knows what effect it will have. It seems they wired the nursing home, and they caught Livia and Junior having a little chit-chat. A little chit-chat where Livia tells Junior that not only is Tony seeing a psychiatrist, but all of Junior's capos have been meeting Tony inside the nursing home. Then the tape has Junior saying that if it's true, he must act. Tony looks crushed, but not too crushed, since there's a whole roomful of feds around waiting for him to crack and agree to testify. Man. The feds are harsh, and the writers rock!
After reminiscing with Carmela at the restaurant about what a "character" Livia is, Artie Bucco decides to pay "Mrs. S" a visit at the nursing home. Livia's in full swing, despite busily pretending that she has Alzheimer's. Artie tries to take a trip down memory lane with her, but she's all confused. She thinks his mother is still alive, and even after he tells her she's dead, Livia asks if he'll give his mother Livia's regards. Then she thinks her husband was on the Little League team with Artie, and Artie straightens her out by speaking loudly and gesturing broadly, like, what is she, German? That only works with people who don't speak English, Artie. Artie brought her some duck ragout pasta dish that comes from Northern Italian cuisine. Northern? Yes, Northern. Livia's not thrilled about that and decides to get back at her son for sic-ing this damn chef and his Northern cuisine on her. So she lets it slip that Tony may have lit that fire that burnt Artie's restaurant down, but isn't it great how Artie just lets bygones be bygones and makes lemons into lemonade? Artie is shocked. Shocked! He obviously hasn't been reading the recaps.
Tony meets up with his crew in the back room of the Bada Bing. Nice alliteration there, eh? He tells the boys that it was Junior who planned the hit, and that they'd better strike back before he tries it again. They go down the list of possible hitmen, because, as Christopher puts it, they wouldn't use Boyz II Men like last time and would probably stay inside the family. They decide who the most likely candidate is and plan his long walk off a short pier. Tony wanders off, complaining about his ear. I know they're talking about death and dismemberment, butc'mon boys, I've seen more intimidating Girl-Scout-cookie strategy meetings.
Tony is sitting on his bed like a sack of potatoes with scoliosis. Carmela comes in with a sleeping pill for him. Tony wants to know what kind of person he must be if his own mother puts a hit out on him. Carmela puts her arm around him and sits down on the bed with him. She tries to assure him that it isn't him, it's his mother. She's a peculiar duck and always has been. Wow, Carmela is good. I would have called her a wack bitch. But Carmela obviously has years more experience dealing with Italian boys and their mothers, 'cause she's reallygood. Carmela points out that both his sisters left Jersey so young that there could have been contracts on them. Tony nods mutely, and Carmela continues that he tried, he was different, he wanted it to work. Tony moans about the nine millimeters that were pulled on him and then opines that his self-esteem is nonexistent. Carmela wants to kill Livia, but Tony points out that she must act the part of the concerned daughter-in-law. You know, for the sake of the business. Carmela and I say in unison, "Fuck the business." Carmela then bets that the Alzheimer's is all just an act so Livia can't be called out. Tony doesn't answer, saying that he and Junior always had problems with the business, but they always worked things out. If only he hadn't called him out about eating pussy. I mean pussy, not Pussy. Unless there's something about Pussy's disappearance that we don't know. Maybe Junior got all Jeffrey Dahmer on his ass. Tony jumps up on the bed, shakes his fist in the air, and yells, "Psychiatry and cunnilingus brought us to this! I'll have my revenge on my uncle and on Mikey P. But inside, I'll know. I'll know."
“ Artie dares Tony to say she's lying, 'cause why would she? Artie. Read the freaking recaps. That's what they're there for. ”
Little Stevie and his hair are helping Tony avenge the hit. Tony is carrying a really large fish when he "accidentally" and "unexpectedly" runs into Chucky Signore at the marina. Tony pulls a gun out of the fish and shoots Chucky in the head. Hey, Tony, wouldn't a backpack make a better tote than a large semi-tropical fish? Just wondering. Little Stevie, his hair, and Tony hop into Chucky's boat to get rid of the evidence.
Tony stops off at Dr. Melfi's office to try to talk. The second Melfi sees him, she runs back into her office and locks the door. Tony apologizes for yelling at her before; he swears he won't touch her, he just really needs to talk. She won't unlock the door and picks up the phone and dials 911. He says that if she won't talk to him there, they can go to a coffee shop where there will be a lot of people around. He just really needs to talk to her. She asks if she has his word that he will not lay a finger on her. He swears, and she hangs up the phone. After she had the emergency operator on the phone. Doesn't she know that if you dial 911 and then hang up without saying anything, that the 911 operator is instructed to immediately call back, and if they don't get an answer they're required to send an officer out? Just FYI. Anyway, Tony tells Dr. Melfi about his week. Dr. Melfi takes no joy in the fact that she was correct about his mother. Isn't that nice of her? She asks if he's been having any dreams lately. He has. He's been having sex dreams about Stupid Neighbor's wife. He's telling her about it, but then stops himself because he remembers that Dr. Melfi is a friend of the Stupid Neighbors. Besides, they don't have time to talk about it; Tony's here to warn her that the reason there's a contract out on him is because he's been seeing a psychiatrist. Her. She's taken off guard by that revelation and jumps to her feet to swear that she could never testify against him because of doctor-patient privilege. He points out that the mob most likely doesn't really care, and that she needs to get out of town. She says it's impossible; she can't leave her patients. She says she's going to the cops to protect her. Tony points out that the cops won't be able to do anything for her because she doesn't have anything that can help them. He tells her she has no choice but to get out of town. He gets up to leave, but stops to thank her for being a good doctor to him. He walks out, leaving Dr. Melfi looking lost and confused.
Artie Bucco's been looking for Tony, and he finally finds him in a parking lot. He pulls a big old hunting rifle out of the back seat of his station wagon and aims it squarely at Tony's head. Tony thinks that Junior has paid Artie to kill him. Artie's not really listening to Tony as he babbles that he's not scared of death anymore; he's too busy ranting about how Vesuvio's was like a child to him, and that three generations of Buccos ran that restaurant, and that even Tony's own mother has fond memories of the restaurant. The mention of his mother brings Tony up short. He wants to know what she said to Artie. Artie dares Tony to say she's lying, 'cause why would she? Artie. Read the freaking recaps. That's what they're there for.
Tony points out that two arson investigators said the fire was all right. Well, as "all right" as a fire can be. But why would Tony want to burn down Artie's restaurant? Artie says that Tony set the fire in order to help him -- Tony heard that Junior was planning a hit in Vesuvio's, so Tony burned the restaurant down to prevent the hit from happening. Tony wants to know if Artie really thinks he's that fucking stupid. Artie won't answer. Tony points out that his mother, god bless her, is going senile. Artie saw her for himself. Livia's losing it. She's confused and makes things up. Artie wants Tony to look him in the eyes and swear that he didn't burn down the restaurant. Tony swears on his mother that he didn't burn down Artie's restaurant. Bet that oath was worth a whole heck of a lot. Artie finally gives up and lets the gun drop. He looks really crushed. He picks up the gun and smashes his car with it. Then he smashes the ground, and then he goes back to the car. Tony tells him to look out, but Artie's not really interested in listening to Tony any more.
And then it's time for a nice relaxing dinner with the family. Is Tony a closet masochist? Because he is certainly showing a penchant for pain, what with the visit to the psychiatrist, the death and dismemberment of Chucky, the Artie Bucco interlude, and then dinner with his family? Maybe Dr. Melfi should look into that Prozac dosage, 'cause he's tolerating way too much right now. Anyway, the family, including Livia and Junior, is gathered around the dinner table. No one's talking. Everyone looks uncomfortable. Man, they're making me uncomfortable -- I'm suffering for you people! Tony opines that it's so nice that they can get together for their usual Sunday dinner. He'd hate it if anyone's nose got out of joint. AJ goes all Beavis and Butthead and blurts out, "Joint. Heh." Tony and Carmela give him a communal Look. Livia wants to know if the pork is cooked all the way through, because she heard about a family in San Luis Obispo that all died from trichinosis, which she defines as uncooked pork. And she would lose the bonus round with that definition, since trichinosis actually is a parasitic infestation of uncooked pork. You only get sick if you eat uncooked or undercooked pork that has gone condo for little teeny tiny worms that are more than happy to shack up in your body if ingested. In case you wondered. Tony points out that Livia told that story last year. She backhands him with a "look who knows everything." Tony changes tack and goes after Junior. Who won't tell him anything. So he goes back to Livia with, "I hear Artie Bucco came to visit you." Livia blocks his shot with, "Who is Artie anyway?" He rebuffs her defense with a one-two "old friend. Owns a restaurant that had a little fire." It's a tie game, and Tony shoots Carmela a knowing glance. She shakes her head sadly and looks at her plate. Tony is definitely a masochist.
“ Tony encourages them to let out their emotions now, because they are never talking about it again. Maybe they want to look at some ink blots? Or perhaps they would be more comfortable lying down? ”
Artie Bucco is visiting the priest. He's talking about his loss of faith. Artie must read Ann Landers. Or Dear Abby. And how weird is it that god-fearing WASP-y twin sisters from Illinois are dishing out life advice to a good chunk of the English-speaking population? I bet they don't even really exist. Like Betty Crocker. They're probably just some fat cigar-smoking bald white guy and a hapless intern who does all the work. Um, okay, back to the story. Artie's talking to a trusted member of the clergy. His lack of faith most likely started in high school, but the loss has only been accentuated by his recent rage towards an unnamed man. The priest obviously knows who and what Artie's talking about, but he's pretending he doesn't. It must be something they learn in seminary. The priest tells Artie, whom he calls "Arthur," that his heart is obviously telling him to talk to Charmaine, but Artie doesn't want to, because he knows she will make him go to the police. Which he doesn't want to do, because it could jeopardize his restaurant. Because the police would obviously involve the insurance company, and they would start a new investigation, and who knows what could happen. But Artie doesn't really want to talk about it. He tells the priest that he's way off-topic.
Christopher barges into the capos' meeting. Tony has gathered them all together to tell them that he is running for governor now that Christie Todd Whitman has left for federal office. He asks Little Stevie if he thinks his hair would be willing to run the campaign. All right, that's not what happened. Tony brought everyone together in order to out himself as a psychiatric patient. He explains how he had been passing out and how they couldn't find anything wrong with him, so he went to a shrink. Nobody says anything. Tony encourages them to let out their emotions now, because they are never talking about it again. Maybe they want to look at some ink blots? Or perhaps they would be more comfortable lying down? Little Stevie says that he's sure Tony went with the utmost discretion, and that he thinks it would be nice if they could share their emotions more. Tony says that Junior knows and has decided to use it against him, even though business was not discussed and no names were mentioned. Paulie admits that he saw a shrink a few years ago because he lacked "coping skills." Christopher isn't saying anything, because he's a big ol' self-centered moronic baby.
Carmela heads into the church with some yummy-looking pasta dish for the priest. I really need to stop watching this show when I'm hungry. It's worse than grocery shopping. As she steps into the church, she sees that Jackie Aprile's widow has beaten her to the punch and is sitting to the priest and feeding him some other yummy-looking pasta dish. She's literally feeding him. I think I lost my appetite watching the priest lick marinara off his lips. I guess it put Carmela off her lunch too; she marches out of the church and dumps the food into the trash. Seems like kind of a waste. But since I've never tasted Carmela's cooking, I couldn't say for sure.
Charmaine has hired Adrianna to be a hostess at Vesuvio's. Does Charmaine not realize that Adrianna is totally hooked up with the dreaded Mafia? The same Mafia that Charmaine has been trying to keep out of her restaurant to the point of not talking to one of her oldest friends? Does Charmaine get this? 'Cause I get it. Charmaine sits down with Artie, who is eating some yummy-looking pasta dish. She is excited about how well things are going what with the good help, the good exterminators, and the outstanding cuisine. Now what did Artie want to talk about with her? Oh, nothing. He likes the bar stools. She looks at him a minute, perplexed, but she doesn't press the matter.
Mikey P is heading out for a jog. He tells his wife to call if Chucky shows up, and to take a Midol while she's at it. She flips him off as he heads out -- an action she may regret later once she realizes that he's dead, 'cause no matter how much of an ass your husband is, you probably don't want your last interaction with him to be flipping him the bird. Something like that could really haunt you. I mean, unless he beats you or something, in which case he probably deserved it. Anyway, her husband's not coming back. Or if he is coming back, it's as a colander, because Christopher and Paulie are waiting outside for him. They follow him out to the woods and they chase him down. It's not pretty. Junior's capo ends up in a mud puddle, begging for his life. Christopher's having none of it, since this was the guy who capped Brendan Filone. Naked. In the bathtub. With no place to run. And Paulie's not having any of it, either, since he danced a tango with a poison ivy bush while racing through the woods. They kill him. Goodbye, Spanky!
Junior and his entire gang get arrested. The short scenes where the feds show up at their houses are actually pretty funny. There's a knock on the door, and then each and all mutter a quick curse when they realize the indictments have come down. Junior's especially funny, since he pokes his little bald head and Mr. Magoo glasses out from under the curtain and yells "oh fuck" in a strangely squeaky voice. I laughed, anyway. Maybe you have to see it for yourself. Anyway, the whole gang: Alfalfa, Darla, Buckwheat. They're all arrested. Carmela and Tony watch it on the news. Meadow walks in and is quasi-shocked to see her Uncle Junior getting hauled in. Tony tries to play it off that Junior's a respectable business man and that he's shocked (shocked!) to see him being made to do the "perp walk." Meadow tells him to cut the crap.
Tony and Carmela sit down to discuss the situation. It seems that Tony wasn't named in the indictment, because the FBI was focusing on some credit-card scam that Junior and Mikey P were handling. Tony just wasn't involved. Luck. It was all luck.
“ It's Junior Soprano, sporting a lovely orange jumpsuit. Is it a Donatella or a Lawrence Steele? Oh, who cares, it's the latest rage in the fall shows in Milan. ”
Artie is conferring with his clergyman again. Artie has decided to be a ray of sunlight in an otherwise bleak and grey world. The priest and I aren't following. Well, it seems that Artie has decided that Livia is not the most trustworthy witness. She tends to be overly negative and lives in what the rest of us might call La La Land. Perhaps he shouldn't so write off an old, trusted friend so quickly just because his mom is a wack bitch who hates her own son and tries to ruin his life in every way she can. Good idea there, Artie.
Look who just stepped off the runway. It's Junior Soprano, sporting a lovely orange jumpsuit. Is it a Donatella or a Lawrence Steele? Oh, who cares, it's the latest rage in the fall shows in Milan. Junior's talking to some chumpy Fed, who's trying to get him to flip by making him feel like less of a man. Do you think that's why they make prisoners wear bright orange? To make them feel emasculated? Maybe they should make them wear fuchsia. That could work. The fed is pointing out that Junior had a short reign as capo. He wasn't really in charge, was he? They're not really interested in Junior; they want his capos. Junior points out that he wants to fuck Angie Dickinson, and he can't wait to see who gets lucky first. Hee hee hee. The fed's tactics aren't really working, although Junior does look perturbed at the idea of Tony running the show while he's in the can.
Carmela bundles into the house with an armful of groceries. The priest rushes up to help. She wants to know how the hell he got in the house. He says the maid let him in; he wanted to talk about Tony and the indictments. He rented a movie, too, if she wants to watch. He fixes them a Lillet. She watches him for awhile and then lets it fly. Father, she says, Tony doesn't give a flying fuck about trying to change. He's a sinner, but the priest happily comes in and eats his steak, drinks his liquor, spooges all over his home entertainment system, and hits on his wife. All under the guise of being a caring member of the clergy. He likes the whiff of asexual sexuality. He likes the food and he likes the attention. He is a bad, bad priest who really needs to examine his life. Ann Landers?!? Why didn't you warn me that my trusted member of the clergy could be a schnorrer? Damn you, Dear Abby. ["I'm so glad Carmela finally housed Father Intintola. He really is a schnorrer, and his goatee annoys me on a visceral level." -- Sars]
Tony is going to visit his mom at Green Grove. Oh, look, he brought her a pillow. He's fluffing it for her. How sweet of him. Oh my. What's that look on his face? It looks like an evil, determined grin. Hmm. The nurse rushes out. Mr. Soprano, I'm so glad to see you. Have you spoken with your wife? No. Oh, well, your mother had a stroke after she saw the news last night. The EMTs are taking her to the hospital. Tony looks downright gleeful at the diagnosis. He ditches the pillow and rushes up to the gurney. He leans over to his mother and tells her that he knows. And now Junior's in jail, so he has only one loose end to tie up. Her. He keeps whispering at her while the EMTs yell at him and finally call security to get him off of her. They swear she can't understand him, that she has no language function. He swears she's smiling under her oxygen mask, and as they pull him away and cart her off, you can see that Livia is indeed smiling. Damn, she's creepy. Ooh, I hate her.
Tony runs to check on Dr. Melfi. Her office is empty. She's gone on vacation, a cleaning man tells him. Tony looks pleased. As he stands there, surveying her vacant office, the lights go out. Storm's a-comin'.
Tony, Carmela, Meadow, and AJ are in the car. The weather is rainy and grey and they can barely see the road ahead of them. If I weren't so sleepy, I'd use the weather as a metaphor for this past season of The Sopranos. But, like I said, I'm sleepy, so insert your own. C'mon, I know you can do it. I have faith in your inner snark. Tony is trying to make it to his sister's house, but as Meadow so helpfully points out over and over again, they'll never be able to make it. The rain's coming down too hard and they can't see the road anymore. Carmela agrees, and Tony comes up with an alternate plan. They unload at Vesuvio's and stand in the rain, trying to convince Artie to let them in. His power is out, he says, and they're closing up shop. They tell him pointedly that they can just go to McDonald's, and Artie relents. Chefs and their damn egos, Charmaine and I think in unison. As the Sopranos pile into the restaurant, the camera pans out to reveal that not only are Adrianna and Christopher there making out at the bar, but Paulie, Little Stevie, and his hair are all there too. Um, Charmaine? If you want to keep the wiseguy riff-raff out of Vesuvio's, you'll have to try just a teensy bit harder. Artie seats them at a table and confesses that the gas is still on, so he can cook most anything on the menu. Tony says that anything will be fine. As Meadow and AJ head to the kitchen to talk to Artie and Charmaine's kids, Paulie and his calamine lotion and Stevie and his hair hold a short roundtable discussion about Tony's psychiatric visits. Paulie is bothered not that Tony was seeing a psychiatrist, but that he was seeing a lady psychiatrist. I'm bothered by Paulie's use of the word "lady." He makes it sound really sleazy. Of course, Paulie could make "chicken sandwich on rye" sound really sleazy. He's a gross, gross man and he has that effect on words. Artie's just bringing the food out to the table when the camera returns to the Sopranos. It's some yummy-looking pasta dish. Before they dig in, Tony stops them all for a toast. He knows that soon enough the kids will be out of the house and building families of their own. He hopes that they will look back and remember these moments of family closeness. As opposed to all those fucked-up I-tried- to-kill-Grandma-after-she-tried-to-have-me-whacked me moments. But whatever -- salut!