In the spring of 1985, an event occurred which outraged millions of Americans, left corporate executives red-faced and ashamed, and provided a near-perfectly apt metaphor for this season of The Sopranos. I'm speaking, of course, not of your erstwhile recapper's first real kiss, which also occurred in said spring, but rather of the ignominious introduction of New Coke, a product launch sure to be writ large in the annals of history as one of the greatest blunders ever made by anyone not named Bill Buckner. But maybe, just maybe, it wasn't quite the mistake we all remember it to be. See, one of the little known true facts of the whole New Coke fiasco was that in blind taste-tests, Americans actually preferred New Coke to the original by an almost two-to-one margin. It wasn't until they actually saw the labels that the vitriol came (if you'll pardon the pun) bubbling to the surface. It's (sort of) the same with The Sopranos this year. The show is a little deeper, a little more introspective, and perhaps a bit more flavorful than incarnations, but people don't seem to be enjoying the slightly different taste. This week's episode, however, with it's fast-paced mob infighting, naughty-little-boy Tony, and more clearly defined good and bad guys (again, sort of) was just like The Sopranos Classic we all know and love. So is it wrong to change a good thing? Is it possible to improve upon perfection? Was the show really ever all that perfect to begin with? These questions (and many more) likely won't be answered for another six weeks. They certainly won't be answered in this recap. But in the meantime, you should pour yourself a nice frosty, carbonated beverage, sit back in your favorite comfy chair, and start thinking up your own "taste test" jokes. You're gonna need 'em in about three paragraphs.
This week opens on a young man who's clearly been enjoying one of the Coca-Cola company's scant few rejected marketing gimmicks: Powdered Coke. It does look a little different from the regular stuff, but it packs a much stronger kick than plain old caffeine. As the guy presses his glow-in-the-dark fraternity face-paint right into the lens, Roommate Cait comes down the steps behind him. She's decked out in a cowboy hat and green and orange glowy eye make-up, and oddly enough looks better than she ever has on this show. She spots Meadow and squeals in delight, rambling on about how sweet Meadow is and how she's totally not depressed anymore. At first I made a mental note to get myself some of whatever Caitlin's been getting from the Columbia medical center, but it turns out she's just been buying Ecstasy from Meadow's conveniently-arriving-out-of-nowhere friend Jackie Jr. The girls head out into the hall, and as most girls seem wont to do, they gush about Little Lord Fuckpants's ostensible cuteness. Jackie's got a friend, by the way, and he's wearing a yarmulke, which in and of itself is not an unusual sight for New York City. What is unusual, however, is that Jackie Jr. is wearing some sort of a scarf that looks exactly like a tallis. Jewish viewers across America watched this scene and wondered if these guys just wandered in from a minyan somewhere. Since the scarf has a co-starring role in this episode, and I think it's a pretty safe assumption that there's at least one Jew on the set of The Sopranos at all times, I gotta figure that's intentional in some way, but I have absolutely no idea how. Anyway, Meadow refreshes our memory about how she knows Jackie, and then some random guy comes up and starts rubbing himself on Caitlin. She seems to like it though, and gives the best line reading of the phrase "I choose you" since the immortal Ralph Wiggum rendition.
Meadow now joins Jackie in a back room somewhere, and the lighting and costuming crews deserve major credit for getting the clothes and the room to match perfectly with the black lights and the glow-in-the-dark paint, not to mention Jackie Jr.'s newfound interest in Judaic fashion. They banter a bit about his fraternity allegiances, and then Meadow betrays her cool by asking if there's any more "X" in a way-too-eager tone of voice. "For you, the first hit's free," smarms Little Lord Fuckpants as he passes her the pill. Perhaps realizing his character's somewhat more than superficial resemblance to Brendan Filone, he cautions her not to tell Daddy. "I don't even talk to him anymore," she replies, and downs the drug. I have to say that while my knowledge and experience of various illicit pharmacopoeia is vast indeed, I've actually never tried Ecstasy. It does look like fun, though. ["No, it doesn't. Drugs are bad." -- The MBTV Legal Staff]
Aaron Sorkin: I don't know…I think she'd be better off with shrooms rather than X.
David Chase: Don't worry. She'll be fine. Sort of. And to be honest, I myself prefer the occasional bong hit.
Aaron Sorkin: Yeah, but even that's not as cool as mushrooms, though. Put a couple of those babies on your pizza, and it's like you're traveling through another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead -- your stop: The Burbank Airport Security Zone!
David Chase: Sorry to hear about that, by the way. [stifles giggle]
Aaron Sorkin: Eh, what are you gonna do? Besides, didn't you notice how stoned I was at the Emmys?
David Chase: We don't like to talk about that one.
"Read 'em and suck my dick," shouts Joey Pants to start off the scene, and while they may be vulgar and uncalled for, the jokes about using my glamorous recapping gig to pick up chicks are just too easy to pass up. Joey, however, is referring to dice. And while they do share similar pronunciations (and frequency of usage) for the word "whore," that wasn't a "Homoeroticism, Yay!" joke about Andrew "Dice" Clay. Also (while we're -- sort of -- on the subject), here's an actual movie theater marquee I saw a few days ago: "Josie And The Pussycats -- Blow -- Someone Like You." That's not at all relevant to the recap proper, but it's way too funny not to include. And now that this paragraph is one "tongue-in-cheek humor" joke away from being totally obscene, I'll get back to the action at hand. Eww. You people have dirty minds. ANYway, the Aprile crew is gathered around a craps table in every casino Martin Scorsese ever filmed, and Joey is on quite a run with the dice. But then Tony shows, and the crew all head over to pay their respects. While Wide Guy, Thin Guy, and Gigi offer the obligatory hugs, Joey gets all snotty and stays at the table. Finally, he struts across the room in a locked close-up while the music from every Western Sergio Leone ever filmed plays in the background. When he gets to Tony, the two stare off like it's noon at the OK Corral. Tony turns out to be quicker on the conversational draw, and asks if Joey wants a drink. "Another time, maybe," replies Pants, and then he rides off into the sunset with his pink suspenders and leather chaps. I'm only kidding about one of those two articles of clothing, and it's tougher than you might think to guess which one. Paulie, always the proactive go-getter, wants to "whack" Pants immediately. Eww. You people really do have dirty minds.
But that's okay, because you're not the only ones. Back at the ranch, or ranch-style dorm room in this case, Meadow and Jackie Jr. finally make with the mack. When he moves to unzip her pants, she pushes him away, and we realize just how drunk and stoned she really is. Little Lord Fuckpants pulls out a condom for Even Littler Lord Fuckpants, but when the brand turns out not to be visible, the show misses out on a golden opportunity to score double bonus points for simultaneously combining a product placement with a safe-sex PSA. It ends up not mattering much, though, because Meadow has passed out. Jackie stares at her unconscious form long enough to get everyone in the audience thinking date-rape, but then he satisfies himself with just an extended glance down Meadow's shirt before leaving. And while that is kind of creepy, I guess we should just be glad he didn't sniff her panties.
Silvio and Tony are sitting in Vesuvio, with Tony bitching about how Joey Pants treated him back at the casino. "He's lucky I didn't put a bullet in the back of his head," says Tony, prompting Silvio to mention that, "on that front, don't be surprised if Paulie pops the question." Paulie wants to marry Joey Pants? Now that would make the show better. Jack and Rosa from Will & Grace would have nothing on those two. And a Paulie/Pants wedding would match up against Monica and Chandler in sweeps way better than Chris and Adriana. Anyway, Silvio and Tony continue to discuss The Pants Predicament, with Silvio opining that since Joey is "a good earner," it's just possible that an apology might be in order. He also worries that Pants might "pull a Jack Ruby" on Tony one day. ["Heh. By the way, thanks, Jack." -- JFK] Tony laments what Joey did to Tracee, to which Silvio responds with a hearty "so what?" Since she wasn't related to Tony, or his goomah, Tony had no grounds to hit Joey the way he did. Silvio suggests giving Joey a piece of the casino, but Tony rejects that idea because they're partnered with New York on that, and he doesn't want Pants anywhere near Sack. You know, one of the things about this show that's simultaneously both great and incredibly annoying is that pretty much every single line of dialogue is relevant to either the plot or the characters. It's great that the writing is so tight, but I feel like I can't skip a single word, or I won't be getting the story across. Silvio finally proposes making Joey a captain, to which Tony responds, "[Joey Pants] a captain? Over my dead body." That line is relevant to tonight's plot as well, although technically, it's not Tony's dead body he gets it over.
Meanwhile, Pants, Wide Guy, and Thin Guy are in a diner somewhere. Thin Guy has traded in his eighties-style black sweater in for an eighties-style black blazer, and now he kind of looks like Sean Penn for some reason. They whine about Tony's treatment of Joey, and all the reasons why you can't hit a made guy. "Rules are rules," says Joey. "Otherwise what? Fucking anarchy." "You think I'm afraid of that fat fuck?" he continues before tossing a quick "no offense" over to Wide Guy, who appears to be quite uncomfortably wedged into the booth. "All this over some dead hoor…" sighs Joey, and it seems that no one in Sopranoland can quite figure out why it's wrong to kill innocent young women. Also, what's up with this week's director's obsession with having extras walk through the foreground? It's happened at least a half dozen times so far, and they're not even using them to cover edits, which is the usual rationale for that sort of blocking. Sorry. Film-geek tangent. Won't happen again. Although maybe that should have been "soory." As still more extras wander past, Joey mentions that he's going over to Tony's for Thanksgiving dinner. "I oughta shove a drumstick up his ass," he says to end the scene. Man, this guy gets all the good lines.
At the Bing, Hesh wanders in with a black preacher whom I don't think we've seen before. Tony greets them warmly, but the preacher is concerned that his parishioners "might not understand that [he's] here to help the hungry." They discuss the various differences between ethnic Thanksgiving foods, and then Christopher shows up with a truckload of hijacked turkeys. If nothing else, recapping this show has certainly afforded me the opportunity to write a great many sentences that have probably never appeared in print anywhere else. You never hear Chaucer say "hijacked turkeys." Well, maybe in "The Miller's Tale." Out back, the guys start loading turkeys into the preacher's car, and Hesh becomes the latest person to provide plot progress by asking Tony about The Pants Predicament. The preacher comes over to thank Tony for his most generous donation of the hijacked turkeys, and we get a reversal shot that shows us they're all standing on the exact spot where Joey Pants killed Tracee a mere two weeks back. After he leaves, Chris brings Tony a hijacked turkey of his own, and Tony is dismayed to remember that Pants will be attending his Thanksgiving dinner.
Aprile Abode. Jackie Jr. reclines on his bed, listening to his headphones. He's got a New Jersey Devils poster on the wall behind him, which means that I should refuse to recap this scene just on the Penguins Principle alone, but I'll suffer through it just for you people. I do it all for you, you know. Feel free to thank me any way you like, but since this recap has already covered at least one suggested method at length, I'll just move on. Rosalie enters and remarks that, while she knows he "doesn't like to be pinned down," she was hoping to know if he'd be joining them for Thanksgiving. Jackie wants to know who'll be there, asking specifically about Meadow. Cut to Meadow, asking Carmela that exact same question. Carmela reads off a long list of attendees, including Janice and "some guy from her prayer group," but all Meadow cares about is Jackie Jr. By the way, she's wearing his tallis scarf around her neck and sniffing it through this whole scene. And while I'm not normally one to comment on the fashion choices made by this show (except when they eschew the fashion altogether and wander about in boxers and a robe all day), I do have to point out that Carmela is wearing a truly hideous puke-green shirt that's covered with pineapples, and exposing far more cleavage than is strictly appropriate. Then again, this whole recap is so far from "strictly appropriate" that that's probably a good thing. By the way, this shouldn't be construed as license to post boob jokes in the forums or anything. Do as I say, not as I do.
When Carmela admits she doesn't know whether Jackie is coming or not, Meadow practically leaves a vapor trail in her haste to hang up. Carm's phone rings again right away, and this time it's Rosalie. They start talking immediately about the potential for Meadow and Little Lord Fuckpants, with Rosalie gushing, "Can you imagine the beautiful children those two would make? With those genes?" I'm not even gonna touch that one, but I will repeat the sentiment posted in the forums that it's not like the last Soprano/Aprile pairing worked out too well. I'll then echo another sentiment from the forums, namely that this show loves to repeat itself, and leave you to ponder the potential outcomes of this particular plotline. Carmela, by the way, doesn't appear to be at all excited by the idea. When she hangs up, Tony appears, smashing the hijacked turkey down onto the counter hard enough to rattle the utensils. He instructs Carmela to call the Apriles and cancel their invitation to dinner, because it's "enough with this Jetsons shit. Them going over to Spacely Sprocket's house for dinner." I do love me a topical Jetsons reference, even if I'm not a particularly big fan of the show itself. It was always sort of the RC Cola to Fred Flintstone's Coke Classic, if you ask me. Tony roots frantically through the bags until he finds some antacid, then stalks off, chewing about half the roll of tablets.
So this guy walks into a psychiatrist's office, right? Stop me if you've heard this one before. The guy is of course Tony, and right there in the waiting room is Annabella Sciorra, peddling luxury cars on a cell phone and looking damn good doing it. Tony takes a seat beside her, and offers that he's there because he's "trying to quit smoking." Oh, aren't we all. "[I'm a] serial killer," she responds knowingly, and it was pretty funny until she stepped on it with "I've murdered seven relationships." They've obviously been double-booked, and Tony sports that little-boy smirk of his as he offers her his appointment. When Melfi appears, Annabella is finally persuaded to accept Tony's time slot. They share one last look while Melfi looks on, and it's obvious they want to chat more, but Annabella finally heads inside. Tony gives one last sly grin as Melfi closes the door behind them.
Over at the Aprile Abode, Rosalie listens as Carmela calls with an extended sob story about how sick her father is, and why they have to cancel Thanksgiving dinner. Joey lurks in the background, and looks quite pensive when he hears the news.
Back at Melfi's, it's now Tony's turn in therapy. No Carmela this week, so he apparently feels free to discuss a "management problem" he's been having. Melfi asks for specifics, which she really ought to know better than by now, and Tony explains that this individual caused the "early retirement" of another employee. When asked if the problem involves a personal relationship, he changes the subject by confessing that he's been reading Sun Tzu's The Art of War, as per Melfi's recommendation. He seems quite taken with it (and it is a pretty good read, by the way), and he's actually quite peeved when Melfi interrupts to ask if he's in any danger. That's also the second unusually inquisitive question she's asked this session, and I'm left to wonder whether her reasons for doing so might be more personal than professional. Tony continues, saying that most of the guys he knows read "Prince Matchabelli," but he still prefers Sun Tzu. I still prefer General Tso, myself. Tony then turns the conversation to his own personal rather than professional issues, and asks about Annabella. Melfi can't discuss another patient, of course, and suddenly the session is over. "It's getting late," says Tony. "Want me to walk you to your car?" Melfi declines, but she's clearly shaken by the offer. As I was I, since I was expecting the rape never to be even alluded to again.
To Spiti Soprano. The men are all gathered around the TV, watching the Detroit Lions play their annual Thanksgiving game. After the Lions/Steelers Thanksgiving coin-toss fiasco of a few years back, I should refuse to recap this scene too. But I can't, because not only is it too funny not to include, it also features, among other things, me. But more on that in a minute. Janice comes over, asking, "Who wants turtle?" and I don't know what ethnic group serves turtle for Thanksgiving, but thank God I'm Jewish. Because gefiltefish is so much more appetizing. Tony teases her about not even knowing who's playing in the game, but Janice actually knows quite a bit about the Lions, because she once waited on Barry Sanders while working at a Kenny Rogers. Mr. DeAngelis gets confused, and there's an extended argument about Colonel Sanders vs. Barry Sanders, and I'm just glad no one found a way to work Deion into that little scene. Janice's boyfriend, by the way, is passed out on Tony shoulder. He's also named Aaron, and while he isn't balding, he does have some pretty bad hair. Now I'm nowhere near vain enough to actually think that's a shout-out, but given what's happens , and all the things I've written about the show so far, it would be pretty funny if it was. Tony gets up and heads into the kitchen, but when he sees Meadow, he immediately has a flashback to Tracee. He goes over to her, and she looks a little scared at his approach. "I know things haven't been so good with us lately," he starts, "but if anything were to ever happen to you…" Before he can finish, however, Carmela interrupts to call everyone to dinner.
At the Aprile Abode, Rosalie, Pants, and Jackie Jr. are eating. Rosalie tries to make with the cheer, but Joey looks almost catatonic, and Jackie Jr. is just itching to get out of there. Rosalie finally suggests that the kid go and see if Meadow wants to catch a movie, and he's halfway out the door before she even finishes the sentence. He does stop to bicker a bit with Joey before he goes.
Back at Casa di Soprano, Mr. DeAngelis is giving plumbing advice. At the other end of the table, my narcoleptic doppelganger is fast asleep in his chair. Incidentally, NBC's actually got a sitcom called My Narcoleptic Doppelganger bring prepped to take over for The Weber Show year on Thursday nights. Tony breaks off a bit of a roll and wings it at him, and everyone starts giggling. Everyone except Janice, that is, who points out that "narcolepsy is an ASDA-certified dyssomnia." Aaron doesn't even open his eyes. The doorbell rings, and it's Jackie Jr. Meadow's eyes light up as Carmela introduces him to everyone, including the now suddenly conscious Aaron, who asks, "Have you heard the good news?" About my shout-out, you mean? Yeah, we have. Jackie, however, hasn't, so Aaron clarifies: "He is risen." Like most people, I'd imagine, at least half the clocks in my apartment are not yet adjusted for Daylight Savings Time. Of course, that still doesn't explain why it's Thanksgiving in April, or why most of the turkey-day talk seems to center on Easter. Little Lord Fuckpants doesn't appear to be too concerned about the lack of holiday continuity, and proceeds to ask Meadow if she wants to go somewhere. She quickly invites him to join her at Hunter's, and then runs off to get her jacket. "A Soprano and an Aprile," gushes Janice, and you can actually see her face fall a second later when she realizes what she's saying. Aaron just looks sleepy. Like I said, it would have been the perfect shout-out.
Aaron Sorkin: I'm actually the same way with the speaking-the-title-out-loud thing.
David Chase: We know. You also like the big ensemble scenes.
Aaron Sorkin: Yeah, what do you got there, like seventeen people or so for dinner?
David Chase: Let's see, there's Tony, Silvio, Christopher, Aaron The Happy Wanderer…plus of course their wives and girlfriends.
Aaron Sorkin: So basically it's the crackpots and these women.
David Chase: Don't be mocking my cast, there, buddy. You keep this up, and somebody's going to emergency, and somebody's going to jail.
Aaron Sorkin: Sorry. Hey, did you ever hear the one where the guy walks into a psychiatrist's office? Stop me if you've heard it before.
Outside Hunter's house, Jackie and Meadow are chatting in the car. The chatting quickly turns to kissing, and Little Lord Fuckpants tries to convince her to spend the weekend with him. Meadow demurs, citing midterms, but Jackie admits that he's dropped out of Rutgers because he didn't want to deal with "organic chemistry…nucleotides and shit." You know, like Ecstasy. "You want to know what I'm interested in? Men's fashion," Jackie confesses, and if you close your eyes you can just picture Kate Moss strutting down the runway in the new spring line of Little Lord Fuck-pants. Meadow suggests applying to fashion school, but Jackie just wants, well, Meadow. When she declines his weekend invitation a second time, he gets snippy. "What, you'll go with that black guy, but not me?" In stark contrast to her behavior with Tony, Meadow actually appears contrite at this, and quietly says, "It's not that I don't want to go. I've been hurt." When Jackie sighs in frustration, Meadow gets out of the car, and Jackie peels off as soon as the she closes the door.
In the Soprano boudoir, Tony sits in his underwear, flipping through channels on the TV. Despite his previously professed love for the History Channel, he passes right by a WW I documentary. Carmela emerges from the bathroom, bemoaning Rosalie's drive to hook up Meadow and the Little Lord. "We were young when we got married, but those two, emotionally, they are much younger than we were." Since Carmela's got the robe and Tony's got the underwear, I'm gonna call this scene for StR purposes, but I am imposing a one-hundred-point penalty because Carmela's robe actually matches her pajamas. Final score: 1,499. Tony is entranced by a Mercedes ad on the TV, complete with the Joe Mantegna voice-over. I guess no mob story is complete without an appearance by Mr. Mantegna. After all, he does play Fat Tony on The Simpsons. When Fat Tony from The Sopranos professes his desire to purchase a Mercedes, Carmela is supportive. "Go ahead, it's a cute car." Not as cute as the saleswoman, though.
At the Bing, Paulie and Silvio are playing cards with Patsy Parisi and Thin Guy. They're also gossiping about Tony "disinviting" Joey Pants for Thanksgiving. When Tony and Gigi arrive, though, they all clear out and leave the two alone in the room. More discussion about The Pants Predicament, in which Gigi refers to Joey as "a frustrating guy," and worries that he won't be able to make his kid's college tuition payments. Tony reassures him, but when Gigi leaves and Silvio returns, they both agree that "the stress is killing him." Little do they know how right they are.
Johnny Sack sits amongst his hinterlands when he's joined by Joey and Ginny. Ginny quickly departs to her physical therapist, leaving Sack to remark wistfully about the days when she was "quite a hoofer." Pants immediately starts whining about Tony; Sack listens with a bemused smile. When Joey hints that he might whack Tony, Johnny tries to talk some sense into him. "You wanna commit suicide, pills are a lot easier." He goes on to explain that he knows "Tony can be difficult. His father was the same, his uncle. They all need someone to demonize." Then he denies Joey's request to switch families, citing New York's longstanding ties with the Sopranos, "and that's not going to change." Except, of course, for Sack himself, I'm guessing. When Sack chastises Pants for what he did to the "hoor," Joey runs off a list of reasons why he was perfectly justified, including the fact that it wasn't his baby she was carrying. Sack gives that little rationalization the look of scorn it deserves, and Joey finally admits that "it was the fucking coke. I should have never started with that shit." I feel exactly the same way, my friend. Sack encourages Pants to apologize to Tony, suggesting that Tony might offer him a capo spot to smooth the rough edges. Pants says he's not interested, but neither I nor Johnny Sack are buying it.
Cut to said Sack, pitching the apology idea to Tony at Vesuvio. He mentions how upset Joey was about the Thanksgiving incident, but Tony just spits some Sun Tzu back at him: "If your opponent is of a choleric temper, irritate him." Well, at least that explains why Meadow treats him the way she does. He likes the idea of Pants apologizing, though. "If it's sincere, it might relieve me of a very unpleasant decision." When Sack brings up the capo idea, however, Tony gets angry, and when Sack also mentions that Tracee was "just a whore," Tony doesn't even give him the respect he deserves for pronouncing it correctly. "I don't want to discuss that situation with anyone ever again," he declares, smiling all the while.
Cut back to Pants, hearing from Sack on the phone. He's told that Tony is sold on the idea, and appears very relieved. He's also wearing a robe and boxers, by the way, and when we cut to Johnny Sack stirring the bathwater in nothing but a towel, I quickly avert my eyes and thank the heavens that I already awarded the StR. I'd have had to deduct at least a thousand points for the gratuitously bared (and grotesquely haired) thigh alone. Joey thanks Sack about a hundred times, and then hangs up. Jackie Jr. takes this cue to enter the kitchen and fix himself a bowl of cereal from mysteriously self-reversing box of Trix. He informs Joey that he's moving into his yarmulked friend's apartment because the kid's reserve unit in Israel got called up. I've got stories about the Israeli Army that would curl your toenails, but now just isn't the time. Joey seems to know an awful lot about Jackie's friends, because he offers to pick up the slack in the Little Lord's Ecstasy supply. He gives Jackie his version of "that bullshit [Jackie's] future father-in-law pulled over Thanksgiving," and then walks off, giving a patented Pantoliano scratching of the ass on the way out.
An angry Melfi recounts a list of gripes to her shrink, including problems with yet another wacky patient, and all of Dr. Bogdanovich's "fucking interruptions." She complains that no one wants to listen to her problems, and while she feels for the patients, sometimes she just wants to scream, "I hurt." Dr. Bog butters her up, telling her that it takes incredible strength to "soldier on" the way that she has. It's exactly the compliment she was fishing for, and she thanks him with a satisfied grin on her face. When he asks about "patient Soprano," she admits that when Tony offered to walk her to her car, she "almost fell into his arms, crying." She waves her own arms, disgusted with herself, and she almost starts crying here, too.
At Vesuvio, Tony sits alone in an empty restaurant. Well, it's empty except for Paulie and Christopher, who are manning the door, and also Joey Pants, who's made an appearance to apologize. He walks over to Tony's table, but Tony just ignores him, preferring instead to focus on his dinner. Finally, he asks why Joey wanted to see him. In a hushed voice, Joey makes his apology, blaming the whole thing on the coke. His apology sounds pretty sincere, especially since you can see how hard it is for him, but Tony just makes him keep groveling. When Pants finally stumbles to a finish, he waits anxiously for Tony's response, which turns out to be nothing more than "Anything else?" Joey shakes his head docilely, and slowly walks out of the restaurant.
Over at the Aprile crew hangout, which is nowhere near as nice as the Bing, Gigi arrives with a bag full of turkey sandwiches. He immediately hands it to Wide Guy, who claims to still be "bloated from Thanksgiving." "Thanksgiving of 1982," zings Thin Guy, which is coincidentally the same year he purchased much of his wardrobe. Gigi joins the poker game in progress, revealing that the turkey is like "spackle in my bowels. Nothing moves." I'm gonna stick with my Daily News rule that nothing involving the lower gastrointestinal tract can be considered a product-placement and ignore the Metamucil mention here. Gigi quickly rejects the idea of inviting Pants to join them, hoping to just "enjoy the quiet" for a few moments.
Aaron Sorkin: You know what would have made that scene better? If the sandwiches were made from hijacked turkeys.
David Chase: I don't know...
Aaron Sorkin: You don't want more hijacked turkeys?
David Chase: Well…
Aaron Sorkin: Because I think you should have hijacked turkeys.
David Chase: Shut up, Aaron.
Aaron Sorkin: Are you talking to me or the recap guy? Because he definitely needs to shut up.
Sanctum Sackonorium. Johnny watches a news reports about America's newest favorite tourist destination, The Newark Museum of Science & Trucking. His Teamster reverie, however, is interrupted by the arrival of Joey Pants and the incredibly annoying scarf he's wearing. It's pink, checkered, and tied around his neck like a bowtie. I guess it's an Aprile thing, but it's quite distracting. Joey vents at length about the treatment he's received from Tony, again suggesting that the boss is "going down." "What are you, fucking stupid?" asks Sack, and despite the fact that we all already know the answer to that one, he continues, "Coming in here and talking to me like that?" Joey doesn't care, though. "I've given my life to this thing, and this is the thanks I get?" See my notes on appropriate thank-you gifts above.
This show haunts my dreams. Not with the depressing images of Melfi being raped or Tracee being murdered, but rather with the picture of Gigi Cestone atop the porcelain throne, straining to, well, you know. He's got a Playboy open on his lap to cover the naughty bits, and when Wide Guy bangs on the door to inform him that Silvio is on the phone, Gigi grunts that he'll have to call him back later.
Meanwhile, at Junior's Joint, Tony arrives with some leftover Thanksgiving food. Junior is huddled under a blanket, complaining that with all the drafts, "[he] should be in Boca." Ahh, those were the good times. I guess chemotherapy and The Pants Predicament have brought us to this. "Boca" was a great recap, though, as you can learn not only the meaning of Bobby Bacala's last name, but also Sars's preferred method of "thank you" as well. ["Hey, thanks." -- Sars] There's more Grumpy Old Mobsters shtick about the thermostat, and Tony sits down on the couch beside him. Tony inquires about Annabella's father, who worked with Junior back in the day, but Junior can't remember anything more than the fact that he had seven daughters. Junior then wades into The Pants Predicament himself, referring to it as "quite a contretemps." That's so my new favorite word, by the way. He tells Tony that putting Gigi in at captain was a mistake because he's an outsider. Tony points out that he can't lose face by removing Gigi now, and Junior replies that there's no easy answer. "That's what being the boss is. It's leadership the best way you know. Sometimes it's smooth, sometimes you hit the rocks. In the meantime, you find your pleasures where you can." It's actually pretty good advice, and Tony will be following it in a few scenes as well. It's also nice to see Junior as more than buffoonish comic relief. He didn't get to be as old as he is without learning something along the way, I guess.
Back over at the Aprile hangout, Wide Guy is pounding on the bathroom door, with Gigi still inside. When they get no answer, Thin Guy pops open the lock, and they find Gigi dead on the toilet. Perhaps that's a shout-out to another occasionally narcoleptic Aaron, Elvis Presley. Because if you believe the Weekly World News, he is, in fact, risen. Wide Guy checks for a pulse and finds none, and Thin Guy orders I Have No Idea Who He Is Guy to call 911.
Cut to the funeral, with Tony paying his respects to Gigi's wailing widow. I guess that's another one for the payroll. Later, Tony, Paulie, and Silvio lament Gigi's passing, even though "there are worse ways to go." They discuss other famous restroom fatalities, including Elvis and "that guy in Hollywood too. Don, something. Producer of The Simpsons." Bwah! I'm assuming he's referring to Don Simpson, the late partner of the similarly toilet-dwelling Jerry Bruckheimer, and producer of such fine fare as Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop, and of course, Pittsburgh's own Flashdance, but not an actual Simpsons producer. Silvio also points out that there's a vacancy in the captain's spot, and wasn't that little dilemma of Tony's tied up in a neat little bow. Do we really want all the plotlines resolved like this? I didn't think so.
Vesuvio. Artie serves Tony some shots, and expresses sorrow at Gigi's death. He clears out when Joey Pants arrives, and this time, Tony actually deigns to invite Pants to sit. Tony gets right to the point, informing Joey that he's the new capo, and Joey promises that he's "not gonna be sorry." He looks thoughtful for a moment and then says, "I need to hear that it's merit, and not just because somebody was constipated and blew a gasket." "Don't question it," replies Tony. "You wanted to be captain, you're a captain." Joey agrees not to look a constipated gift horse in the mouth, since this is exactly what he's wanted all along. "Be careful what you wish for," cautions Tony, and Joey genially tries to seal the breach, offering, "So are we finally gonna have a drink together or what?" Tony downs his shot in response, and simply gets up and walks away. I can't believe the writers passed up a chance to have him say, "Another time, maybe." That's so not like them. Treating Joey like shit is exactly like Tony, however, and I can't help but think it's gonna bite him on the ass one of these days. I just hope he's not on the toilet when it does.
Cut to a bar somewhere, and a close-up on a smoking cigarette. Okay, this isn't helping the whole "quitting" thing. Little Lord Fuckpants and a friend are playing pool while Meadow and some other girl sit in a booth across the room. Jackie's friend inquires as to whether or not Jackie Jr. has "sealed the breach" with his own Soprano counterpart, and while the Little Lord does describe her body as being "mad ripe" (and for those in the forums who feel she's too fat, I'm with Fuckpants on this one), he's forced to admit that he hasn't done the deed quite yet. Meadow comes over and begs Jackie to leave with her, but Jackie wants to stay and play some more pool. He gets all tough-guy in front of his friend, but Meadow steals his keys and heads outside.
She runs out of the bar and hops into Jackie's car, squealing off as he runs out behind her. She makes it about fifty feet before spinning out and crashing the car down a little hill. Jackie runs over frantically to find Meadow crying into the airbag, and gingerly helps her out of the now-totaled vehicle. He seems genuinely concerned for her, although whether that's due to her mad ripe body or her father's potential mad rage isn't quite clear. Meadow holds onto him closely, and begs to go back to his place. I guess what they say about sex and near-death experiences is true.
Aaron Sorkin: You know, I probably I shouldn't admit this, but I really do like your show.
David Chase: Thanks. I dig West Wing too.
Aaron Sorkin: You know, you're kinda cute for an old guy.
David Chase: I like your hair.
George Lucas: Bamp Jabba bamp bamp.
David Chase and Aaron Sorkin: Get out. Now.
Or maybe it's sex and cars that we should be talking about, because Tony pulls up to Annabella's Mercedes dealership and hops out. She finishes up with a customer, and then smiles when she sees Tony. She still looks great, too. She walks over to Tony, who tells her, "[He's] had his eye on…one of these." I guess he's referring to the car. "Can I take it for a test drive?" Or maybe he's not, since you could cut the subtext here with a knife. They climb into the car and drive off straight into a sex scene on the Stugots. But first Annabella stops to call Melfi and cancel her appointment. She passes on the opportunity to reschedule, but Melfi overhears Tony complaining about wine coolers in the background and the wheels start turning. Melfi hangs up the phone, looking thoughtful, and we cut back to Tony and Annabella macking on the boat. The Stugots, by the way, is my other namesake. Anyway, as a song about captains comes up on the soundtrack, we get one last shot of the empty Mercedes, and then we fade to black.
Aaron Sorkin: Need a light?
David Chase: Thanks. [flick] Ahhh....
Aaron Sorkin: So...
David Chase: Yeah.
Aaron Sorkin: You're gonna call me, right? Because I think you should call me. Calling me is something you should really consider doing.
David Chase: Shut up, Aaron.
week on The Sopranos: Furio kicks a guy in the nuts. That's all you really need to know.