Employee Of The Month

First off, it seems I owe the HBO promo department an apology. For while Melfi was indeed faced with a Choice That Could Change Everything, it turns out that those guys deserve a ton of credit for not only keeping the "A" plot a secret, but also crafting a promo that was significantly less gratuitous than it could have been. I can only imagine what the real WB editors would have conjured from this week's episode, but I'm fairly certain it would have involved Dawson and Joey getting back together. And hopefully getting whacked, as well. Do you think AOL Time Warner CEO Gerald Levin ever gets whiplash when he surveys the breadth of his vast mega-corporate empire? Sopranos to Seventh Heaven (with a stop at Sports Illustrated) is a long way for anyone to go, especially on a single balance sheet.

Secondly, as anyone who saw this episode can attest, it's not exactly something that lends itself well to a whimsically humorous recap. Especially not when said recap is being written by a guy who considers Rolling Stones puns to be the height of hilarity. I guess what I'm trying to say here is, hold on tight, kids, because this one could tattoo you.

As part of our ongoing crusade to make MBTV the only source of information you'll ever need in this crazy, mixed-up world of ours, we've recently taken to assigning letter grades to each of the episodes we recap. You can't see them yet, but won't you just sleep better at night knowing they're out there? Anyway, this episode obviously gets an A+, but it's also gotten me to thinking about how I could develop a purely objective criteria for ranking episodes. See, some people like the show for the humor, others for the strippers, and still more for the frank and honest portrayal of one man's version of the American dream. Heck, some people even watch The Lone Gunmen. Go figure. Anyway, it finally hit me: Start-to-Robe. See, you take the number of seconds from the end of the credits to the first appearance of Tony's robe, and that's the episode's score. The lower the score, the higher the grade. That way, it's fair for everyone. Also, bonus points (for you, not the episode) if you can correctly identify where I stole the idea from. So what was this week's Start-to-Robe (or StR, as we industry insiders like to call it)? 2.3 seconds. That's a new world record, by the way, and the real reason this episode gets an A+.

So what happens in those 2.3 seconds? The phone rings, and Tony "Roberto Benigni" Soprano steps off the back of Steven Spielberg's head long enough to answer it (had to get an Oscar joke in there somehow). It's Irina, and she's drunk, flirtatious, and wearing some fairly revealing lingerie. Except she looked a lot better last week, when she was dressed conservatively. Go figure. Anyway, she pretends to be calling about Svetlana's leg, but Tony correctly points out that she's really "drinking and dialing." And also fingering her glass in not at all lady-like fashion. He tells her to never call the house again and hangs up, all the while glancing around for Carmela.

You know, it's the little things that make me love this show. After the sight of a knife slicing meat sent Tony into therapy last week, we now cut straight to a knife slicing vegetables. And who's wielding this knife? None other than Tony's polar opposite on this show, Richard La Penna (a.k.a. Richard "Protocol" Romanus, a.k.a. the ex-husband that comes sniffing around Melfi every now and then). This guy's been with David Chase since The Rockford Files. Pretty much the entire scene here is about explaining who he is again. Basically, he's a crusader for the accurate portrayal of Italian-Americans in the media so people don't think they're all mobsters. Or maybe he's a professor. Or a doctor. Or possibly an astronaut. Who knows? Needless to say, he's not too fond of Melfi's treating Tony. It's quickly established that they got back together at about the same time that Melfi took Tony back as a patient, "and don't think the synergy hasn't escaped [him]." Or AOL Time Warner, for that matter. They banter some more about why she should "pink slip" Tony, during which Richard refers to Tony as being "alixithymic," and I defy anyone to post an accurate definition of that word to the forums, because I've looked, and there doesn't seem to be one. Do a search on Google though, and you'll get bonus points for correctly identifying where this week's writer stole it.

Cut to Melfi, taking a seat across from Tony in her office. He asks if her suit is new, which it is, and tells her she looks good, which she does. She's also thrilled he noticed. "Did you bring your log?" she asks, and I think you got the wrong show there, log lady. So does Gandolfini, whose line reading on "My log?" is a classic for the ages. Melfi prods him into talking about his breakthrough from last week by asking if he's taken any time to think. "How do people find the time?" he asks, and the delivery there was even better than the last one. At this point I was convinced that we were in for fifty-four minutes of light, frothy comedy. Do we really need to revisit the whole "never right about anything" thing again? Despite the fact that he hasn't had a panic attack since Livia died, when Melfi asks if he's happy, Tony can't even answer and has to quickly change the subject. Back to the log. When that conversational gambit goes nowhere, Melfi casually suggests bringing Carmela into their sessions. Ooh, Tony doesn't like that idea. "That's not in the future," he declares, but since it is in the spoilers (maybe), we'll just have to see how that all works out. At her prompting, he goes off on a laundry list of the problems in his life, and we slowly cross-fade to Melfi, sitting across from her own therapist.

Jennifer goes off on a laundry list of her own, complaining that she's being conned by Tony, and that Richard is "protective and patriarchal," which she feels shouldn't have been a surprise, since she married a man ten years her senior. Towards the end, she "accidentally" names Tony as her patient, and Dr. Bogdanovich is pretty nonchalant about it. "I always thought it was that other guy in the news, that Augie Aprile." Oh god, not other Aprile family member who's name I'm gonna have to learn. Enough is enough already. It's called The Sopranos for a reason, you know, and it ain't Meadow's vocal talents. Anyway, Melfi is at a loss to explain why she divulged the name, but points out that Richard is especially worried because Tony is so high up in the mob. "So if he was just some button-man you wouldn't be treating him?" he asks. "[Boggie], please, huh, with the terminology?" is her only response. He ticks off yet again all the reasons why she should refer Tony to another therapist, and Melfi seems finally to be in agreement.

Gerald Levin: I don't knowI thought you said this was gonna be shocking?
David Chase: Oh, it will be. It's shocking, and best of all, it's real. It's the true story of two people picked to sit in a psychiatrist's office and find out what happens when people stop being nice and start breaking the social compact.
Gerald Levin: Yeah. Thanks, Dave. Way to rub it in AGAIN that we're the only family of networks without a successful reality show.
David Chase: You mean G-String Divas doesn't count?
George Lucas: You know, I find reality to be highly overrated. There's never enough Ewoks.

Cut to Livia's basement, where Janice is giving the place a once-over with a metal detector. Upstairs, Tony starts banging on the door, and she has to run up to let him in because she changed the locks "the instant that Ukrainian dye-job moved out." Tony warns her about messing with the Russians, and points out that he's been involuntarily dragged into the whole leg imbroglio. Janice refers to the record collection in question as "a window into Ma's soul," and professes her desire to make a documentary about World War II music. Dude, I'd be surprised if Janice can even spell "documentary." When she tells the still angry Tony that she has work to do, he replies. "Yeah, good luck finding the lost Dutchman's lost gold mine," and while the meaning of that particular reference escapes me, the meaning of the hand gesture he makes while saying it is unfortunately all too clear. Anyone with a tape of the episode and some time to kill now has the opportunity to be really disgusted by that joke. Which by the way, it was. A joke, I mean. I would never actually do that. Well, almost never. Anyway, Janice is convinced that he plans to tear the house apart looking for buried treasure as soon as she's gone, but Tony just feels sorry for her. I gotta say, though, stashing money around the house is a very Livia sort of thing to do, so I wouldn't be too surprised if something does turn up.

Vesuvio. Adriana seats a couple, and she's looking fantastic in a bright red dress. Clearly, I'm not the only one who thinks so, since Joey Pants and Jackie Jr.'s heads spin on a swivel to follow her ass as it walks by. With the rest of her attached, of course. Joey warns young Jackie Jr. (still with the nickname crisis here, people. When will our long national nightmare be over?) to stay away from the other kid's toys, but Jackie isn't having it. He snots that he wants to go to the "gym," so he can "spar" with a friend, and all of a sudden the Roman dcor in the restaurant overwhelms me and I start to believe that I'm actually watching Spartacus. If they hit the hot tub, I'm out of here. Joey Pants asks Jackie if he's got a girlfriend, and when the kid doesn't answer, Pants echoes everything I've thought about this season so far by saying, "You know who's turned into a little mink, though? That Meadow Soprano." I doubt I used the term "mink," but okay. On the other hand, no girlfriend? Likes the gym? Serious maternal issues? Spartacus? I'm not sure Meadow is really the appropriate choice for this guy, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Jackie backstories that he's known Meadow since they were kids, and then they segue into another backstory-laden conversation: "I know it's tough on you, I'm the guy that's dating your mom," says Joey. "Dating?" asks Jackie. "Don't get fucking filthy about it," replies Joey over my peals of laughter. Can you at least understand why I thought this was gonna be a light-hearted episode? Anyway, Joey Pants tries to patch things up with Jackie, and while he seems pretty sincere about it, Jackie just sits there looking bored. Finally, Joey agrees to take him to the gym.

In the car, Pants asks if Jackie would mind making a stop. When they do, it's at yet another dump facility. Joey and Jackie enter the office to find an ambiguously ethnic guy working late at his desk. From the contextual clues, he seems to be either Arabic, or, more likely, from one of the former Soviet republics, presumably one ending in "-stan." Guy looks like pure Eurotrash to me, though. Anyway, as always with this show, his payment is late. Don't people in New Jersey ever have to pay their bills? No, seriously. Do they? Because I'm willing to move. More I can't pay the rent/you must pay the rent banter, and then Ambiguously Ethnic Guy (hereafter known as "Stan") questions Joey Pants's right to collect on all the garbage routes. Which is something I've always wondered. Why do these people pay? Can't they call the cops or take out insurance? ["HA HA HA HA HA! Oh, man. 'Call the cops.' That's a good one." -- Sars] Maybe dump all the trash on Tony's lawn? Joey asks if Stan wants to "question a New Jersey business practice that goes back seventy years," and I thought I just did that. He then smashes Stan's toy airplane (bad move, Joey -- that Stan's kinda unstable. You wouldn't want an obsessed fan on your ass) and proceeds to lure him into a fight with Jackie Jr. Said fight occurs (during which Stan refers to Joey Pants as a "wop," and no definitions are required for that one. Joey then refers to Jackie Jr. as a "young buck," and while I also know what that one means, Jackie Jr. ain't exactly the picture I would have picked for the dictionary), and Joey and Jackie quickly gain the upper hand. Pants rips the guy's wallet right out of his, well, pants, and proceeds to split the sizable wad of cash he finds therein with Jackie Jr., who's never been so happy. Okay, first of all, they finally get a pair of pants on this show and then they rip them to shreds? What's up with that? Also, what kind of garbageman carries around a wad of cash like that? There must have been close to $500 there. Maybe he's the one embezzling from the pants budget.

Cut to a very nice house, somewhere out in the New Jersey hinterlands. Tony rings the bell a half dozen times before a truly scary looking woman answers. Her appearance itself isn't as frightening as her resemblance to a co-worker of mine (who is scary), so maybe that effect is lost on others. Her voice, however, could terrify anyone. Including the deaf, and most other mammals. Tony identifies her as Ginny Sack, wife of Johnny, the New York boss. She invites Tony in and then yells for Johnny to come downstairs. When he does, Tony offers up a gift that we're never actually shown, but seems likely to be cigars. Sack leads Tony into the great room, which he considers to be merely "mediocre," and then Tony starts gently grilling him about his motives for moving to Jersey. Sack explains (I know, I'm sorry, but it's just too much fun calling him "Sack." I don't even know why. It just is) that the schools are great, they're closer to Ginny's sisters, and it's only forty-five minutes over the bridge. Tony remains concerned, however, until Johnny assures him that he has no intentions of moving in on any local business. "There's our family, and there's the Soprano family," he says, and since that's the second time we've heard that in as many weeks, you just know New York is gonna be making a move soon. When Tony asks for a tour, he gets involuntarily drafted to help "unstick [a] rain-bird." "I'm a stranger in a strange land out here," moans Sack, and given the Neanderthal views on rape that Heinlein espouses in that very book, I wonder how he'd grok this episode?

Gerald Levin: Nice house. I like the windows.
David Chase: Thanks.
Gerald Levin: Of course, it's not as nice as my house. I've got gold-plated electrical sockets.
David Chase: I know. But what are you gonnawait, gold-plated electrical sockets? Isn't that like a fire hazard or something?
Gerald Levin: You might be right. We should get out. Now.

In another part of the hinterlands (and lest our New Jersey readers think I'm belittling their state, keep in mind that my own is pretty much ALL hinterlands. We've got the Amish, for god's sake), Tony, Furio, and Joey Pants have gathered for a meeting. Joey hands over a newspaper full of money, and then tells a joke: How many Neapolitans does it take to screw in a light bulb? None, because they don't have light bulbs in Naples since the Cardinal of the Church controls that racket. Yeah, I don't get it either. Then again, I'm Jewish, so what the hell do I know? He offers use of the joke to Furio, who replies, "We don't have those bulb jokes. They don't translate." Which is way funnier than Joey's joke, especially if they really don't have light bulbs in Naples. Pants and Tony sit down at a table, and Furio, as he is contractually obligated to do at least once per episode, makes a graceful exit. It's a shame he never gets any real screen time, because I love me some Furio Giante, or as I like to call him, Crouching Mobster, Furious Giant. Tony chews out Joey Pants for beating on Stan, but Pants defends himself by saying, "He said a very bad word." Pantoliano sells that line way better than I do. Somehow, they get on to the subject of their kids, and they commiserate over their problems with Meadow and Jackie Jr. Tony declares that he thinks parenting is their hardest job, way more difficult than any of the mob stuff. Then he gets down to business, and informs Joey Pants that Gigi Cestone will be the new captain of the Aprile crew. Well, at least that explains why he's been around so much this season. Joey tries to change Tony's mind, promising to work things out "on a people level" and also hang-dogging that he eats dinner at Tony's house. "It's business," Tony tells him, and that's the end of that.

Hey, remember when I said this episode didn't really lend itself well to a whimsically humorous recap? And have you noticed how whimsical and (occasionally) humorous everything has been since then? Well, the fun's now over, and the worm is officially about to turn. From here on out, it's all high drama (except for a brief kneecap-related interlude), so bust out the hankies and your latent feelings of moral superiority and hunker on down. I'm going in.

Melfi's office. Tony enters and makes a big production out of shutting off his cell phone. Since she never mentioned her discomfort from last week, I can only assume that Tony was sensitive enough to notice himself. Or something got cut. Melfi seems ready to run with the determination she gained from her last session with Dr. Bogdanovich, and quickly moves to refer Tony out to a behaviorist. At the first sign of disappointment from Tony, however, her resolve fades, and she quickly backtracks to just offering to bring in some literature for him. Knowing he's won (yet) another battle, Tony smiles.

Later, Melfi is heading down a stairwell, talking to Richard on her cell phone. They discuss her attempts to drop Tony as a patient, and while they chat, a nondescript guy in a red hat wanders past. Eventually, she hangs up the phone and heads out into the underground garage. Just as she reaches her car, the guy jumps out and grabs her, threatening to cut her with a knife. Melfi has obviously taken self-defense courses, because she slams her heel right into his foot and breaks free. He's too quick, however, and quickly subdues her and drags her into the stairwell. He throws her down, rips at her clothing, and, well, rapes her. It's painful and uncomfortable and it goes on seemingly forever, and I really have no idea how you recap a scene like this. They've got a wide-angle lens on. The wall in the background needs a new coat of paint. Lorraine Bracco gives a phenomenal performance. And finally, just as you're about to change the channel because it's too uncomfortable to keep watching, the guy runs off, leaving Melfi crying in the stairwell.

Sidebar: When you've seen as much TV and as many movies as I have, it's pretty hard to get emotional about what you see on the screen. When you've worked behind the camera or in an editing bay, it's even harder, because once you know how the magic trick works, it's never quite the same. The last movie I cried at was E.T., and I was seven. The last time I was surprised was Keyzer Soze, and I was stoned. Scant few tales have since managed to stir an emotive response in this blackened, jaded heart of mine, but there's been two in the past six months that both left me feeling like I'd just been kicked in the gut. One was Requiem For A Dream, which was so far superior to Traffic that it's not even funny. The other was this episode, and I just want to congratulate David Chase, this week's director, and especially Lorraine Bracco for their work here. I didn't see this coming, and it hit like a freight train when it did.

Cut to the hospital, where Melfi and some nurses are doing a rape kit. Richard bursts in and exclaims, "For God's sake, Jen," and I'm already getting a bad vibe off this guy. She shows him the injury to her knee, andow, and also the rest of her looks beat up pretty bad too. She's quick to point out that the guy has already been apprehended, and the detective in the room quickly gives a rundown on him, noting especially his name, Jesus Rossi. Richard is shocked to learn that the guy was Italian, and struggles to play it off by saying he was told that the guy was Puerto Rican. Pretty much everyone (including both Melfi and myself) looks at him like he's a total asshole, but before it can get any worse, it gets worse, and their kid Jason appears. After a brief hug for Mom, he and his nasty hair launch straight into a high-decibel rant about how the "world is a fucking sewer" and the animals are winning. Richard shushes him and pushes him out the door, and who wants to bet that's the last time we ever see him? Some people think that little tantrum of his was out of character, but as far as I can tell, the sum total of his characterization on this show has been the bad attitude and the Bard sticker on his backpack, so who can really say how he'd behave? ["Exactly like that, from what we've seen. He's in college and thinks he knows everything. That rant hit just the right note for him, in my opinion." -- Sars] And not to get sidebar city on you, but I've found there's few things on this Earth that will provoke a man's rage more than someone harming a woman he loves. It's protective and patriarchal to be sure, but it's also primal and incredibly powerful. I can't even think about that being my mom.

Casa di Soprano. Carmela answers the phone, and it's Melfi. She asks to speak to "Anthony Soprano," and I actually wondered for a moment why she'd want to talk to AJ. When Carmela reports that Tony isn't available, she's a bit nonplussed to discover who she's talking to. Melfi cancels that week's appointment by lying and saying she was in a car accident. Carmela hopes she's okay, and Melfi tells her that her "knee took the worst of it." Just as they're about to hang up, Tony comes in and starts yelling boorishly in the background. Melfi doesn't hear him, though, and we cut to her house as Richard snipes about Tony and his marriage. Melfi calls her patient. "Hello, Kate? I know talking on the phone upsets you, but" Ever notice how Melfi's other patients are always wacky? Except the one who killed herself. Back at Das Sopranohaus, Carmela relays the message. "Why not just announce it on WFAN," snarks Tony, as he shoos the maid away. Heh. After Bobby Bacala, the maid is so my favorite tertiary (tm Daniel) character. When Carmela tells him about the accident, Tony is concerned. Especially about her knees. And the possible damage to them. And whether they'll be scarred. It's funny, but also a little Freudian. After all, given their seating arrangement, and Melfi's just-above-the-knee hemlines, it's likely that particular body part holds a certain erotic fascination for Tony. Carmela isn't impressed with his concern, and when the knee-related conversational gambit ends up going the way of the log, Tony mentions the possibility of Carmela joining him in therapy. She's a bit nonplussed by that too, but finally agrees.

Melfi's house. She's zonked out on the couch when Richard comes home. The first words out of his mouth are "Did they call yet?" She says no, and they bicker about whether he should call them. Finally, we learn that he's talking about the cops, and he does in fact call to ask when she's supposed to come in for the line-up. Suddenly, he's pissed off and swearing, and then he hangs up after threatening to involve his attorney. He explains that they "mishandled the chain of custody or something," and had to let the guy go. Melfi is understandably shocked, and wants to call herself. "They told me everything," he says. "Before or after you started swearing?" she replies, and forces him to call again. He dials for her, and when they answer, he starts pontificating again, and Melfi makes him hand over the phone. She tells the detective, "I don't know what you people did, but I can identify him." And then her face falls as she gets the news again. She hangs up without a word, obviously taken aback. Richard takes this opportunity to get all patronizing about having a guard escort her at night, because most incidents happen in garages, and she snots that he now thinks this is her fault. They argue, and he tries to stop it by saying, "This isn't doing anyone any good." Which is patronizing too, but also true. She calls him on his dismay at learning the attacker was Italian, and limps off after complaining that the "whole fucking world is about [his] self-esteem."

Cut to the Bada Bing. The strippers gyrate, and a couple of seedy-looking guys ogle them from the bar. A two-second shot, and it makes its point perfectly. Who didn't feel dirty watching that? In the back, Tony is asking Gigi how his first day as captain went. Gigi bitches about Joey Pants pretending it was his idea to make Gigi captain, and then somehow they get onto the subject of Ginny Sack. There's a number of mediocre "your momma is so fat" jokes, but Furio claims to like "a woman you can grab onto." Heh. Furio is just counting the days until he becomes this season's newest breakout sensation. Phil from Ed has nothing on this guy. Just as the laughter reaches its peak, Johnny Sack himself walks in, and they get real quiet, real quick. Tony pretends they were discussing one of the strippers, and Sack is chagrined that they haven't heard the news. He flips on the TV, and there's Peter "Boon" Reigert again, talking about the approval of a $25 million development contract. The boys are ecstatic, because they've got all the construction and waste hauling contracts. During the news report, they cut away to a shot of ducks on the pier, and Boon better hope they're not the penis-eating kind. Part of the development includes the somewhat improbable "Newark Museum of Science and Trucking," and Paulie declares that Boon is worth every cent of his cut.

Back at Melfi's house, she's now moved to the bedroom. Richard comes in, and she apologizes. Richard claims to be just frustrated, because he wants to kill the guy with his bare hands, but he can't. There's a number of close-ups of his hands as he bemoans the state of the justice system. He sighs, and we cut straight from another shot of his fists lying impotently in his lap to a low-angle view of Tony, towering above us and smashing wood with a sledgehammer. And an anvil. Gee, who's the powerful one out of those two? Christopher comes up, complaining about having been blown off at Vesuvio. Tony reminds him that he's not the most reliable guy himself, and they head inside. There's a shot of the air conditioner (they've got four?) starting up, and the FBI guys get excited in their van. The boys enter the basement, and we see the bugged lamp in the foreground. Christopher apologizes for involving Jackie Jr., but does concede that "he was an asset. Pissed all over the car seats, but he handled himself good." Tony explains his promise to Jackie Sr., and Chris takes major offense. "Oh, the life is good enough for me, but not for Little Lord Fuckpants?" Bwah! Tony explains that kids today aren't like he and Chris. They're "bored and spoiled." How is that not like Tony and Christopher? Chris is slightly mollified, and when Tony gives him a hug and professes his love in a not at all unmanly fashion, Christopher actually smiles. Almost. Outside, the Feds are befuddled. "Little Lord Fuckpants? Whose moniker is that?" I don't know from monikers, but if that's the guy I've got to talk to in order to get some pants on Tony, I'm prepared to make him an offer he can't refuse.

We're back in the stairwell again. Melfi enters and heads up to her office, pausing for just a moment to wince at the spot where it happened. Don't you think she might have found someplace else to park? Or at least an elevator, what with the cane and all? Cut to Tony in the waiting room. She comes out to get him, and he's stunned by the scope of her injuries. Inside the office, she creeps slowly over to her desk, and hands him some papers. As she slowly sits and composes herself, I'm struck by her resemblance to Livia. They've got her hair straight for the first time in the episode, and it frames her face exactly the way Nancy Marchand's used to. Tony reads off the title from one of the pamphlets she gave him: "Feel the fear and do it anyway." Melfi agrees that the title leaves something to be desired, and then her cane falls and makes a loud noise. She jumps about two feet straight up, and Tony wonders if maybe she came back to work too soon. She reassures him that she's okay, but then there's a long awkward silence. "See, that's what's wrong with the world right there," says Tony, "An innocent person is driving along, minding their own business, and bam, some fucking asshole smashes into them." Melfi reminds him that he can't control everything. "No, but you can get pissed off," he answers. That's exactly what causes his panic attacks, she explains, and tries again to pawn him off on a behaviorist, who can teach him how to control those emotions. "Then how do you get people to do what you want?" he wonders. Even in the quiet scenes, Bracco and Gandolfini are superb.

Gerald Levin: Ha! Take that, West Wing! How's that pansy "Josh gets therapy" Emmy reel looking now, losers?
David Chase: Dude, calm down.
Gerald Levin: Sorry. It's just that between you and Buffy, they're really starting to piss me off. Plus, you just know they're going to go all Picket Fences on us and win for like fourteen straight years.
David Chase: Yeah, but Picket Fences doesn't get recaps, does it?

Carmela and Jackie Jr. wander through Casa di Soprano, looking for the pieces of a tea service that he's picking up for his mom. Tony comes in, and Carmela takes his not-so-subtle hint to leave the two men alone. Jackie takes the initiative and tells Tony that he agrees with the decision to not make Joey Pants captain. Tony gets even more pissed than he already was, and informs Jackie that Christopher spilled the beans about their little concert heist. Tony begs Jackie to stay out of the life, and just then Meadow enters. She greets Jackie with a warm hug, and completely ignores Tony. At first, he's just happy to see her with a guy he actually approves of, but eventually he asks if he gets a hello, too. "I need $200," she says, and I duck instinctively, expecting my mom to throw something at me just for having heard that. They start arguing, and pretty soon Jackie Jr., the maid, and anyone else within a five-hundred-foot radius knows all about Meadow and Noah. Carmela comes in and leads Meadow (and her laundry) away, and Jackie Jr. promises Tony he won't tell anyone about the [racial slur].

In a nameless diner somewhere, Melfi places her order (tuna, if you care) and steps to the register to pay. But then she notices the sign on the wall, and it's our old pal Jesus Rossi, the employee of the month. Wow. Great title. She drops her Coke and runs out of the restaurant. Just for the record, the Coke cup is the only obvious product placement this week, so props to HBO for sticking with the otherwise classy vibe we've had so far.

Janice sits in Livia's house, strumming away on an electric guitar. You might not have realized it, but she's playing "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones. I had to rewind three times before I finally got it. She hears someone at the door, but when she peeks outside, they start to break in. She runs to the back door, where's she met by a portly Russian thug. He's polite at first, saying, "Give us leg and we go. Repent on yourself or all your base are belong to us." Okay, not that last part. She sasses back that he must not know who her brother is, and he delivers a wicked punch straight to her jaw, sending her spinning into the guitar. Cut to a bus station, where a visibly cowed Janice is opening a locker. "Are you really so callous?" she asks, as she hands over the stolen prosthetic leg.

Since limitations in modern monitor technology prevent me from installing a fish-eye lens through which you can view this paragraph, I'll just have to say up front that this scene is a dream sequence. Melfi is seated in her office, and the camera (which does have a fish-eye lens installed) pushes in to show a highly distorted view of her at her desk. She hears something, and walks over to the door to the waiting room, which now bears a "High Voltage" warning sign. She opens the door to see herself standing before a giant pink Acme vending machine. I guess that probably would have made the dream sequence thing clear on its own, huh? I also guess I'm not the only one who saw Requiem For A Dream and its malevolent refrigerator, because this one could easily be its long-lost cousin. She drops two pieces of dry macaroni into the slot, but when nothing comes out, she reaches her arm inside and gets stuck. Suddenly, there's a growling dog in the room, menacing her. Before it can get any worse, though, it gets worse, and Jesus Rossi appears, and the sound cuts out as he stares her down. Man, this show has great production values. Sure, ER and West Wing are always buffed and polished to within an inch of technical perfection, but no other show on TV is anywhere near as visually inventive or artistic as The Sopranos. Well, maybe Buffy when Whedon directs, but that's about it. Rossi charges her, but the dog attacks him, and he's thrown to the ground, screaming in pain. Fade up on Melfi in bed, as she looks over to the sleeping Richard.

We go from doggie to Boggie, as Melfi is back in therapy. She confesses that watching the dog attack was the first time she's felt safe since the rape. They deconstruct the various elements of the dream, but get stuck on the meaning of the dog. And these are supposed to be two highly trained psychiatrists? I got it before the dream even ended. Melfi finally figures it out. She describes the dog as having a "big head [and] massive shoulders," and yep, that sounds like Tony, all right. "Who could I sic on that guy to tear him to shreds?" she asks. "Oh," replies Dr. Bogdanovich, finally getting it himself. She repeats again that nothing ever felt as good as seeing that "employee of the month cocksucker" rolling on the floor in pain. When he starts talking about civilization, she snaps that he can relax, because she's "not going to break the social compact." Or will she?

Tony arrives at the hospital to find a beaten Janice with a bandage on her hand and three broken ribs. He starts in on her right away, but either she's on painkillers or she's playing the fool, because she's a little disconnected from what's going on. "I was supposed to be married by this point in my life. The man I love died." Yeah. Because YOU SHOT HIM. Tony bemoans the fact that he now has to get payback from the Russians, complaining that Janice "never does anything to simplify [his] life." Janice is still rambling. "I stole a woman's prosthetic leg, Tony. When did I get like this?" Well, she was snotty even in last week's flashback, so it's been a while. Finally, she announces that she's embraced God, and prayed for him to forgive Svetlana. Tony rolls his eyes extra hard on that one, reminding her that "we've been here before, with Vishnu, Richie fucking Alpert, and the coyote spirit. And it always spells trouble." He tries to help her up, and she looks to the heavens and claims, "I give myself totally to God, if this is the bottom. If not" Cue the wacky doctor, who enters and says, "Billing needs to see you." Guess it's not quite the bottom yet.

Back out in the hinterlands, the Sacks are having a sock hop. Tony and Carmela arrive and move through the party, passing Chris and Adriana macking on the back porch. Later on, the party is in full swing. Tony, Silvio, and Sack are joined by Joey Pants, who does a little riff on Gladiator. I prefer Silvio's Godfather impressions myself, and so apparently does Tony, because he dismisses Joey Pants with a crack about fetching him a drink. Sack offers to get it for him instead, and he and Pants walk off to the bar. Paulie comes over, and the boys banter about the price of the house, plus "the property taxes, and you gotta pay those." While they chat, Tony's got his eyes fixed on Pants & Sack, who are chatting conspiratorially. Hmm. Pants & Sack. Sounds like either a really bad outlet mall or a really good cop show. Of course, local Pittsburgh readers see that and immediately think "Pants 'N At," which may very well be the funniest thing you'll ever hear on the radio. Of course, you'll have to come to Pittsburgh to hear it, but that's your problem, not mine.

Melfi's office. She limps over to her chair, but she's not using the cane anymore. Most of the bruises on her face have faded as well. Tony tries to be as helpful as possible, pointing out that not only has he started making a log, but he even bought a little notebook to keep it in. He produces said notebook, and then even offers to see a behaviorist if that's really what she wants. Melfi looks like she's about to cry. When finally confronted with the thought of losing him for real, she insists she wants him to remain as her patient. And then she actually does start crying. Tony jumps up and tries to comfort her, but he's clearly hurt and confused to see her in pain like this. "Go sit over there, and we'll do this," she says, and who didn't think she was going to tell him at that point? He goes back to his chair, looking even more frightened and perplexed. "Do you want to say something?" he asks. There's a super-tight close-up of Melfi, and then she replies with a simple, yet emphatic "No."

Gerald Levin: Wow. I mean, wow.
David Chase: Thanks.
Gerald Levin: Hey, what are you doing this Wednesday night? Because I've got this other show that could really use some help. Maybe you've heard of it? Daws
David Chase: [Gets out. Now.]
Sars: Hey wait, don't leave! Come back! No, back here. No, don't get in the caryou're getting in the car. Great. That's just great. Oh well. What are you gonna do?

week on The Sopranos: It's guest star-a-palooza, as Charles Dutton does Cop Roc and Burt "Rocky" Young cops a bad attitude.