University

Despite the fact that I'm now quite well rested, and possessing of a (reasonably) sound mind and body, I'm about to share a shockingly embarrassing personal revelation with all of you: I think this was one of the best episodes of The Sopranos I've ever seen, and yes, I've seen them all. And while I know it can sometimes be hard to tell with me, that last sentence was not, in fact, a joke. Or was it? This is also the first episode that's actually a sequel to a one, but we'll talk more about that later. And while you can say what you want about its implications for the season at large and the direction of the show, the episode itself was forty-eight minutes of excellent writing, directing, and acting. And also editing. And music selection. Heck, even the strippers had some good routines.

We fade up this week at the Bada Bing, as dancers gyrate to the opening strains of my new favorite song, the Kinks "Living On A Thin Line." Incidentally, if you were curious, Napster still works just fine. Over at the bar, Tony and Silvio are discussing whether or not "Beansie" should go to see "Gigi". The bouncer comes over and points out that "We Italianswe're the only ones who use nicknames to that extent." Which is true. You'll never see a Beansie Rabinowitz. Although I did once know a Gigi Weinberger, but she was eighty-five and had blue hair, so I doubt that's who they're talking about. Silvio, however, insists that the Chinese also prefer nicknames, citing Yo Yo Ma (which I don't believe is actually a nickname, but okay) as the quintessential example. "Sobriquet," announces Bouncer Bob, before clarifying, "It's another word for nickname." Tony and Silvio look variously annoyed, irritated, exasperated, and, in a suggestion from the MS Word thesaurus function, cheesed off.

One of the strippers (and I'm just gonna call her Tracee from the get-go to avoid confusion. There's a lot of strippers in this one) comes over and starts blabbing to Tony about taking her kid to the hospital like he suggested. Tony plainly has no idea who she is until she finally jogs his memory. "That's nice," he says, and turns back to his paper. Tracee hands over a "date-palm bread" she made for him, but Tony doesn't seem too excited. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you can't be doing stuff like this," he tells her. I'll say. Date-palm bread? Eww. Why not just scrape his colon with a plumber's snake? While we're at it, eww too on that nice little mental image. Silvio tells her that giving gifts is "No good," and that transcription just doesn't do his line reading justice. I know he turns out to be an asshole later in the episode, but he's cracking me up here. Tony goes on to say that he already has a family that buys him gifts, and that since she's dating Joey Pants, it would be better if they maintained an "employer/employee" relationship. Silvio shoos her away, and Tony dumps the bread in the trash, which might be the smartest thing he does for the entire episode. They stare at her ass as she walks away, and with good reason. I'd give it a nine.

Madonna: I don't knowwho is this Tracee chick again?
David Chase: Don't worry. It all gets explained. See, in every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will fight against the mobsters, the bloodsucking pimps, and the morons who can't stop quoting Gladiator. She is The Stripper.
Madonna: Okay, now I'm sorry I asked.
David Chase: Hey, you started this conversation.

Cut to Maison de Soprano, where the gang is gathered around the dinner table. The gang in this particular instance consists of Rosalie & Pants, Tony & Carmela, AJ, and Carmela's parents (and by the way, Carmela's maiden name was apparently DeAngelis. Feel free to use that bit of trivia to quiz your friends. Of course, if they're smart enough to know the answer, they're also smart enough to already be reading MBTV, so it might not be much of a game). Pants is still going on about Gladiator, but at least AJ is agreeing with him this time. "Remember when that guy got hit in the head with that spike thing, and chunks went flying?" he asks. Boy, do I ever. Of course, it hasn't happened yet, so I'll preserve the suspense for those that haven't seen the episode. "Erin Brockovich. Now that's a movie," says Mrs. DeAngelis Sr. I know it's misspelled, but I'm fairly certain that's a shout-out, since that's how people pretty much always spell my name. Do I look like an Irish girl? Don't answer that. Anyway, after David Chase hated me last week, it was very sweet of him to work in the shout-out like that. Your apology is accepted, David. The doorbell rings, and it's Jackie Jr.. Tony enters the potential nickname fray by referring to him as "The Fresh Prince Of New Jersey," but I think he'll always be Little Lord Fuckpants to me. Anyway, he can't stay, and apparently only stopped by because he lost his keys. As has been noted in the forums, this guy's plot has been stuck in neutral for weeks now, so I'll just hit the highlights of his visit: He ignores Joey Pants, asks after Meadow, and, well, I guess they weren't so much highlights as just reminders that he's still alive. Just before the screen-time clock hits the thirty-second mark, he leaves. This prompts Pants to start rambling about all of the advantages enjoyed by Little Lord Fuckpants, and how Joey had to drop out of high school, thus aborting his architectural ambitions. I shudder to think what sort of buildings this guy might have designed. Although I think he'd be perfect for the Newark Museum of Science & Trucking.

Columbia. While I don't know it for a fact, I'm betting that actually was the campus, too. ["I believe they shoot Meadow's scenes at Baruch, which is in Manhattan but a hundred blocks south of Columbia." -- Sars] Up in her dorm room, Meadow and Noah are snuggling on the bed. "So when did you first notice me?" asks Noah, and while I don't know it for a fact, I'm betting it was right after a fight with Daddy. There's some tickling, which is rapidly followed by some macking, but then Caitlin comes home and brings the festivities to a premature halt. Eww. Not like that. Meadow glares pointedly at Roommate Cait while she re-buttons her shirt, but Caitlin says she "didn't know where else to go." She plops down on the bed and starts ranting about just having seen Freaks, getting more and more upset in the process. Noah tries to calm her, but Caitlin asks, "Why is other people's pain a source of amusement?" Then she rips out a chunk of her own hair. I'll admit I did laugh at that, so I guess other people's pain is funny. After all, who's funnier than John Wayne Bobbit? Caitlin calls the hair-pulling "just a habit," but Meadow flips out. Noah wisely decides to get out. Now. After he leaves, Caitlin begs Meadow not to be mad. "You're just really moody," replies Meadow. Oh, hello, pot. Have you met the kettle? You'd like him. He's black too, you know. "Maybe I just miss my ferrets," sobs Caitlin, and "ferrets," much like "fuck," is another word that's just inherently funny. Maybe it's the "f." Meadow also bails on Caitlin, saying she's headed for the library. On the way out, she thoughtfully stops to grab all the sharp objects off the table by the door.

Either the library at Columbia is both extremely small, and also partially converted for residential usage, or I'm thinking Meadow might have lied back there. Actually, they're in Noah's room, and he's trying to justify Caitlin's behavior as "culture shock. We're used to the mean streets." Which is actually funny twice, because that's a movie and he's from Hollywood, and it's also about mobsters for Meadow. "You're sweet," she tells him. "Most guys wouldn't even give a shit." "I'm not most guys," he replies, and moves in for the kill. There's some macking, which is rapidly followed by some stripping, and in the first of what will be many compare-and-contrast moments, we're merely teased with the possibility of a topless Meadow, rather than actually seeing it. "Do you have a condom?" she asks, and he reaches out and grabs one from off-screen. Except they forgot to Foley in the sound of a drawer opening, so it seems like he's just got them lying around on his nightstand, which wouldn't be very romantic. Meanwhile, Meadow looks nervous, and while I find it hard to believe she's never done this before, the scene definitely has a virgin vibe to it. They're silent the whole time, with the sounds of sirens and traffic coming in through the window. For the record, Noah isn't real big on foreplay. Meadow closes her eyes, and we fade out.

Madonna: So is she like a virgin? You know, touched for the very first time?
David Chase: Actually, he barely touched her at all. At least she didn't suffer.
Madonna: Some boys kiss me, some boys hold me. I think they're okay. But if they don't give me proper credit I just walk away.
David Chase: I know. Men are evil. What are you gonna do?

Das Sopranohaus. Carmela is scrubbing her Jell-O mold. I know it's sometimes hard to tell with me, but that's not a euphemism for anything. Meadow comes in, glowing with happiness, and -- of course -- carrying a bag of laundry. How many times a day does this girl change clothes? Mom reminds her that it's time for her dentist appointment, and Meadow responds by complimenting both her cooking and her shoes. They are nice shoes. They look like something Rae Dawn Chong might wear. "What's up with you?" Carmela wonders, and I wonder how anyone who's spent more than ten minutes with Meadow wouldn't just naturally assume she needed money. Meadow opens the fridge, revealing a shelf which contains, I kid you not, at least a hundred bottles of Snapple. It was a pretty quick shot though, so I'd say it was more of a product shout-out than a product placement. Anyway, Meadow starts reminiscing about the good old days with Mom, and then Tony comes downstairs. She's actually cheerful enough to say hello to him, so you just know she must have gotten laid for the first time the night before. She starts blabbing about Noah and Caitlin and the hair-pulling, and how "[Caitlin's] scalp is like all raw" now. I know what that's like. You wouldn't think it'd be possible to OD on Rogaine, but you can. Trust me. Tony describes Caitlin's problems as "nothing a straitjacket wouldn't cure," and Meadow, who's as good at spotting hypocrisy in others as she is bad at seeing it in herself, replies, "Oh yeah. I forgot I was talking to Mr. Sensitivity, who doesn't have any problems of his own." She storms off, and Tony is instantly furious that she's still seeing Noah. Carmela warns him to leave her alone, saying, "She's under a lot of strain." Yeah, from lugging her entire wardrobe around every week.

Back to the Bing, with the strippers and all their Kinks. I'm almost positive one of the guys at the bar in this scene is Ray Liotta. If you've got a tape, check it out. In the back room, Bouncer Bob is, well, bouncing. I think his actual name is Georgie, but Bouncer Bob just seems right somehow. He refuses to let one of the strippers in, saying, "It's VIP work. VIP prices. Fifty bucks to me, plus a blowjob later." She pays up reluctantly. She's also a man, I think. Or maybe Barbra Streisand. Inside, pretty much the entire male population of the cast has gathered. Paulie is doing stand-up in the corner, referring to Bobbie Bacala and Wide Guy as the "before" and "way before" (respectively) shots for a weight-loss campaign. As he is prone to do, he repeats his joke to Tony, who's got a hooker in one hand and the keys to the storage closet in the other. Tony invites her inside, saying, "I want to show you where the horse bit me." Now that's a pick-up line. Plus it also reminds me of the time I got bit by a camel. That's not a joke either, by the way. I actually have a scar. Tracee tries to talk to Tony, but he blows her off.

Across the room, Bouncer Bob opens the door to find Joey Pants. For the love of God and all things holy, can we please get this guy some non-Gladiator-related dialogue? When Bouncer Bob admits he's never seen that particular flick (ahh, someone else who hasn't seen it. Now I feel better), Pants pauses for a moment before saying, "Well, you're an asshole then." He steps inside and starts working the room, insulting pretty much everyone in the process. Tracee runs up to greet him, but he pushes her away before she can kiss him, saying (in front of everyone), "How many cocks you suck tonight?" That, I can assure you, is not a good pick-up line. He orders her to make him a drink, giving her a slap on the ass as she walks off. I'd be remiss if I didn't at least mention her dress here, because it's red leather with large gaping holes all up and down the sides, and it covers an approximate total of three square inches of her body.

After not kissing Tracee, Pants immediately turns to Gigi and plants a wet one right on his lips. He then asks after Tony, and is told that Tony is "getting his weasel greased," presumably by the horse that bit him. Paulie tries to warn Pants about "breaking balls all the time," and isn't it just a shame that I already used my pot/kettle joke? Oh well. Pants goes back over to Bouncer Bob, saying, "Hey fucko! This weekend? Get the video." Then he stubs out a cigar on Bob's chest. Bob, by the way, is roughly twice Joey's size. Back at the bar, Gigi grouches about Pants, and we get a shot of Furio, who's decked out in country-western garb with his hair down. Heh. Now Pants starts poking Bouncer Bob with a pool queue, and despite Bob's insistence that "it fucking hurts," he still knows better than to hit a made guy. After chasing Bob across the room with the pool queue, Pants picks up a huge chain with a lock on the end and starts swinging it over his head. What the hell is something like that doing in the VIP lounge of a strip club? Insert your own "balls and chain" joke here, I guess. At this point Silvio tries to intervene, but Pants keeps pulling his chain. Literally. Over in the closet, Tony doesn't even try talking to the hooker, but she blows him anyway. When he hears the screaming from outside, however, he pushes her away, looking pissed. Pants is swinging the chain even faster now, and he finally connects with Bob's head, sending him crashing to the ground. He insists it was just an accident, and tells the blinded Bob to "stop being such a cry-baby." Tony doesn't want to hear it, however, and orders him to take Bob to the hospital. Tracee and her dress try to talk to Tony again, but when she offers him the recipe for the date-palm bread, he walks away.

Madonna: You know, I think I wore that same dress to the '87 Grammys.
David Chase: I remember. I also still have like four hundred of those friggin' rubber bracelets. By the way, do you like my Swatch?

Back at Columbia, Meadow returns to her dorm. Caitlin immediately starts screaming at her, saying she was up all night with an image of Meadow "in the hospital with [her] throat cut." I think we've all had that image of Meadow at one time or another, wouldn't you say? Caitlin somehow gets onto the subject of the Lindbergh baby, and Meadow turns right around and walks back out, saying she's going to Noah's. "Yeah, well at least you have a boyfriend!" yells Caitlin.

Up in Noah's room, Meadow has taken Caitlin's complaint to heart and decided to find a guy for her. She asks if Noah has any friends, but instead of saying "no" as I expected, he declares that he wouldn't "subject [his] friends to Caitlin." I wouldn't subject my friends (including the one named Tannenbaum) to Noah, but that doesn't seem to be stopping them from watching. In fact, here are some actual comments from actual acquaintances of mine this week:

My boss: Did you watch last night? Was that some great pole-dancing or what?
A friend: I know! I love that song.
A co-worker: How come you're not as funny as Strega?

I swear to god I'm not making these up. The crack MBTV legal staff, however, is requiring me to declare that any other conversations which may appear in these recaps are completely fictional, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Except for the Michael Knight one. That really happened. Noah suggests that they take Caitlin out for her birthday. "It would cheer her up," he says. "And I bet I know what would cheer you up." Repeated viewings of this episode? Nope. It's sex. I guess sex is pretty much always the obvious answer to the question "What cheers you up?" I know it works for me. Which also explains why I'm depressed all the time.

Speaking of sex, we cut from a chaste shot of Meadow in her bra to a quite lewd shot of a bare-breasted Tracee, emerging from the Bing's back room. Tony is on the phone, giving home-repair instructions to Janice. Who? Oh, yeah. I guess she's still alive too. Tracee comes over and smiles at Tony, asking him if he notices anything different. When he doesn't notice, she explains that Silvio gave her a loan so she could get braces. How could he not notice those? They're so bright you could see a vampire's reflection in them. I'm downgrading my nine to a six. By the way, see what I did there? How I objectified and dehumanized her? Get used to it. That's the nicest thing anyone will ever do for Tracee from here on out. Silvio comes over and breaks up the party, sending her out onto the stage. As they watch her dance, Tony asks why Pants isn't paying for the dental work, and Silvio reports that he's "juicing her." For those more familiar with the lexicon than I, does that mean he's sleeping with her, or just loan-sharking? ["I don't know the answer to that, but I do know that there's no way Silvio would have shelled out three grand for anything other than those Invisalign things." -- Sars] After watching Tracee dance myself, I think I'll put that six back up to an eight.

Meadow, Noah, and Caitlin are strolling the mean streets of Manhattan. Noah suggests a bar, but Meadow claims to be tired, and he quickly gets the hint. Before they can head back, Caitlin spots a homeless lady, pushing a shopping cart and babbling to herself. She tries to give the woman some money, and is rewarded for her generosity when the woman's pants slip down, revealing several sheets of newspaper stuck to her butt. Caitlin screams in shock, and while I cracked up laughing the first time, this scene gets less funny with every time I watch. Except for Meadow's expression of disgust, that is. That'll always be funny. Talk about "smell-the-fart acting."

Bing. Paulie counts out a wad of cash, and congratulates Chris on the improvement in his earnings. Hey, what do you know? Christopher is alive too. He's also tired. "If I wanted to work eighteen hours a day, I'd have gotten a job at Denny's." Dude, I've been to Denny's, and those people ain't working too hard. Plus, the name "Moons Over My Hammy" offends me somehow.

In the storage closet, Pants has his pants down with Tracee. "Are you crying?" he asks, and yes, she is. I'm not sure how to put this delicately, but she's also simultaneously, uh, "entertaining" a cop, apparently at Joey's behest. You know, it's scenes like this that sometimes make me wish I was recapping Gilmore Girls. I'm also yet again reminded as to why Sars laughed when I suggested people go to the cops, but I think it's fairly safe to say she wasn't laughing at this scene.

Cut from Tracee's tears to Caitlin crying. "That was the most horrific thing I've ever seen," she says, and she only had to watch it once. Caitlin is of course referring to the homeless lady, but the Tracee thing was pretty horrific too. Noah doesn't see why she's so freaked out, since it was just a woman with "a Daily News up her butt," and I think we can assume that one wasn't a product placement. Meadow suggests that Caitlin go to the health center for more medication, but Caitlin instead decides to self-medicate with vodka. Despite the Absolut posters on the wall, Caitlin drinks Smirnoff, although the labeled is cleverly turned away so you can't see that. Don't try getting coy with us now, Dave. Noah gets up and announces that he has to leave, because he's getting up early in the morning. There's some blabber about a friend of his and whether or not he mentioned it to Meadow, and then he takes off, leaving Meadow alone with the sobbing and no longer sober Caitlin.

Carmela is sleeping, alone in the bed. Meadow comes into the room, saying, "I'm sorry, were you sleeping?" And this girl goes to an Ivy League school? She climbs into bed with Mommy, and recaps the evening's events for her. When she mentions Noah, Carmela starts quizzing her. "Is that a problem?" asks Meadow. "Hey, you started this conversation," replies Carmela, who's pretending to be a lot sleepier than she really is. She reminds Meadow about the dentist again (andget it? With the braces for Tracee?), and also mentions Little Lord Fuckpants. Meadow is still talking about Noah. "[He's] great, but he's kind of odd, you know?" I'm not sure "odd" is really the word I would use. In fact, the consensus choice seems to be "dickhead." Carmela asks if she's in love with the boy, and Meadow replies that "at this point, [she] better be." Carmela tries to get more info, but Meadow doesn't want to share quite that much with Mom.

Cut to the Bing, where a disheveled and disoriented Tony staggers out into the sunlight. In all my life I've only been to a strip club three times, all for bachelor parties, but Tony definitely looks like a lot of the guys you see in there. And here's Tracee again, following him around like a puppy dog. She confesses that she's pregnant with Joey Pants' baby, and Tony doesn't seem too sympathetic. He reminds her that she already has one kid, and that there were problems with that. "Burning him with cigarettes, whatever you were doing," he says. Tracee tells him that she got help for that, and the social workers traced it all back to her mom holding her hand on the stove when she was young. Well, this just keeps getting happier and happier, doesn't it? Tony tells her she needs another kid like she needs a hole in the head. Or a folk singer, for that matter. "So you think I should get an abortion?" she asks. "Believe me, with Ralphie as the father, you'd be doing the kid and the few generations a favor." And with that, he hops in the car and drives off, leaving a pensive Tracee in the parking lot.

Casa di Soprano. Meadow and AJ are at the breakfast table, bickering about syrup. When Meadow spots an ad in the paper, she suggests a shopping spree with Carmela. Like she really needs more clothes to lug home every weekend. AJ, however, needs underwear, which I mention for no particular reason. Unfortunately, Carmela is too busy doing Meadow's laundry to go shopping. And then the Meadow we all know and hate reappears as she waves her glass imperiously above her head, signaling for a refill. Carmela gives her the stink-eye, and Meadow finally gets up to get it herself. You know, say what you want about the girl, but for me, this scene was the crux of the entire episode. Meadow's a snot, and she's spoiled rotten, but what separates her from Tracee and Caitlin is that she has a family that, whatever their sins may be, truly cares for her. She has support, affection, protection, and even occasionally discipline. She's also been forced to grow up fast with the knowledge of her father's occupation. The life lessons she learned in "College" in season one now serve her well in season three's "University." Our little Meadow is now officially all grown up.

Back at the dorms, Caitlin shows up at Noah's room. He's writing a paper for political-science class, but she begs to be allowed to hang out. She even promises to just study silently, and he finally relents reluctantly.

Fade to the Bing, where we'll soon break some hearts and break some heads. The strippers are out onstage again. I just recently read in an article that David Chase also shoots a watered-down, network-TV friendly version of each show for when syndication rolls around. I seriously doubt you'll ever be watching this episode on TBS, though. It's only forty-eight minutes to begin with, and if you cut the nudity alone you'd be down to half an hour. Maybe he can do a shortened version, like Ally. Silvio comes over to Bouncer Bob, who's sporting an eye-patch, and asks why they're a dancer short. Bob reports that Tracee called in sick three days ago and hasn't been seen since.

Columbia. Caitlin enters their room and sits down across from Meadow. She happily announces that she's going to Vermont for the weekend, to stay at the horse farm of a family friend who also happens to be a psychiatrist. They're going to "ride and talk," and Caitlin thinks everything will be really great if she can "just not get freaked out by the sound of the pine trees at night." Meadow barely lets her finish that sentence before jumping up and running off to Noah's room.

Pants' Place. He and Tracee are zonked out on the sofa, watching Spartacus. "This Moltisanti kid, he's got his head up his ass," complains Joey, and it's a nice touch that Chris would have recommended this movie to him. Pants goes on at length about why Gladiator was the superior film. "Look at Kirk Douglas' hair. They didn't have flat-tops in ancient Rome!" No, but they did have those funky Mohawk-helmet things. Despite the presence of a bottle of Rolling Rock (its label perfectly square and facing directly into the camera), Tracee gets up to fetch Joey a bottle of Fresca. By the way, I actually kind of like Rolling Rock, so that's why I mentioned the brand.

In Noah's room, he's freaking out to Meadow about getting a C-minus on his political science paper. Apparently, Caitlin kept bothering him with "the questions, the whining, [and] the crazy goddamn nonsense." Hmm. Sounds an awful lot like one of my recaps. He bitches about her some more, mentioning that even though he's an RA, she's technically not on his floor, so she's not his problem. When Meadow tries to convince him that one C-minus is not that bad, he gets even angrier. "I want options when I graduate." Here's another shockingly embarrassing personal revelation: I finished my first year of college with a 1.8 GPA. I think I went to a total of six classes in six months. And I know you're saying, "But Aaron, you're so erudite, and verbose. You must have gone to class." Nope. And while I may not have as many options as Noah, at least I still don't have a Daily News up my butt. The secret to my effusive nature, by the way? Sally Struthers's correspondence courses. They changed my life.

Back at the Pants Place, Silvio shows up and starts pounding on the door. Inside, Tracee and her bouncee, braless breasts bring Pants a pop tart. And a Fresca. But no Rolling Rock. She asks him if everything is all right. If it isn't, just how is she planning to go about improving a pop tart? I'm not even sure that's possible. She promises to always take care of him and their baby, just as Silvio starts pounding on the door. Pants lets him in, and Tracee immediately claims to have been sick for the past few days, and in this shot she does look quite unhealthy. Silvio berates her for having left her kid alone with her mom, and Pants actually starts to stick up for her until he learns that she owes Silvio $3,000 for the braces. Then he instantly changes his tune, saying, "Go on. Get out of here." He forgets to add the "Now," though. Silvio drags her outside, and when she talks back to him, he smacks her across the face, sending her smashing into the car. For someone who's so concerned about return on his dental investment, hitting his prize dancer right in the mouth doesn't seem like a very bright idea. Joey watches from his window, giggling like a schoolgirl. A very evil, very tonsorially-challenged schoolgirl, but a schoolgirl nonetheless.

Outside, Tracee is waiting in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette. I know she's the victim here, but you have to admit that she's made some spectacularly bad decisions in this episode. Never mind smoking while pregnant -- did she honestly think Pants was going to come out and apologize? I'd have been a thousand miles away by the time he made it outside. He walks over, and almost tenderly offers to take care of her and the baby. Wow, maybe I was wrong about this guy, too. But then he mentions that if the baby is a girl, it can grow up to be a hooker, just like Mom. Tracee spits in his face, which he seems to enjoy, but when he makes the mistake of pronouncing "whore" as "hoor," she scratches him across the cheek, drawing blood. He responds by punching her right in the mouth (I feel for her dentist, too). She challenges his manhood yet again, and now he's really furious, punching her and banging her head against a guard rail. The Foley guy certainly wasn't asleep at the switch for that one. When he realizes she's dead, he stands up and quickly heads back inside. And thus ends the tragic tale of Tracee. I hope you've all learned something, since the test on this one will account for fifty percent of your grade this semester.

Madonna: I just want you to know that I find this episode to be more than a little offensive and demeaning to women.
David Chase: Uh, have you seen the video for "Justify My Love"?

Pants returns to the back room and makes a break for the bar, sticking his hand into an ice bucket. The others quickly notice the blood he's splattered with. He tells them that Tracee "slipped," and everyone heads out back to look. When they find the body, Tony is furious, and immediately dispatches Paulie back inside to fetch Pants. Despite Tony's obvious fury, Joey sticks with the "she was a klutz" defense. Tony tells him that his lack of respect for places like the Bing is what cost him the captaincy, and then starts beating the crap out of him before the boys can pull him off. Pants screams that he's a made guy, and that Tony can't hit him, but T just doesn't care. They send Pants away, and Tony stands over Tracee's body, looking remorseful. "Twenty years old, this girl," he says, shaking his head. Finally they pull him away, and the boys set about removing the body.

At the real Columbia library, Noah says he and Meadow need to talk. Ruh roh. He thinks they've been seeing too much of each other, primarily because Meadow is so "negative" all the time. She's a little bit shocked by the fact that he's dumping her, and even more shocked when he blames it on her "underlying cynicism." He finishes his little speech, and then goes right back to studying, leaving them in an awkward silence.

"So, things are better then?" asks Melfi. Carmela admits that she and Tony have been talking more lately, but Tony just sits silently beside her. "Sometimes, even the most painful sessions can break the log-jam," pontificates Melfi, and I'm forced to wonder just what her obsession with logs is all about. "Yes, and then there's this," says Carmela, indicating Tony, who's sitting there like, well, a bump on a log. Tony finally shares that "a young man who worked for us" just died, and it's affecting him. He terms it a "work-related death," which it sort of was, and feels that "it's sad when they go so young." You can totally see him thinking about Meadow in this scene.