To Save Us All From Satan's Power

For me, the most reliable first-sign indicator that the proverbial shark has in fact been jumped (excepting of course the dorsal fin and ominous da-dum da-dum soundtrack) has always been the clip show. I mean, let's face it, when not even sitcoms can be bothered to slap together yet another tired twenty-two minute romp through the trusty old "oh, I thought YOU were gay" sub-genre, you pretty much know it's time to put them out to pasture. It's kinda like StR -- the less real content contained in the episode, the higher your trajectory over the shark. The scant seventeen minutes of actual Survivor contained in this week's Survivor season finale should be making Mark Burnett the second tourist in space at any moment. Insert your own Destination Mir joke here. Or into the Pacific ocean, whichever is easier. All this does, however, beg the question (except that it really doesn't) of whether or not this week's episode of The Sopranos can be said to constitute a clip show, and if so, should I be looking around for a hammerhead with tire-tracks? After all, there's no plot to speak of; a lot of old, forgotten characters reappear to do nothing but spout subtle shout-outs to the show's chronology; and there's even (gasp!) an OJ joke or two. It's not quite the decline and fall of Eastern civilization just yet, but the barbarians may well be storming the gates of New Jersey. Oh, please. Like they haven't been camped out in Newark for years now. ["I was going to saythe barbarians are the gates of New Jersey. Heh." -- Sars]

Anyway, previously on The Sopranos: So much happened that the show's opening logo shot actually had to be truncated to squeeze it all in. Which is odd, because this week's episode was only forty-six minutes, so it's not like they were hurting for time. Or hurting for back-story, for that matter, since as I've already stated (seventeen times before the second paragraph), nothing happens this week. Hell, even the credits are boring, with Vincent Pastore completely failing to reclaim his old spot. In fact, he's not even listed at all, which is also odd, given that he was in all the promos, and it's not like this was a surprise. Did I mention that nothing happens this week?

Well, I suppose at least a few things happened. I should probably tell you about them, huh? All right, then. This week opens with Tony striding down the boardwalk in Asbury Park (at least that's where I think he is. But the Jersey people already hate me for the barbarian thing, so it doesn't really matter if I'm wrong). He pauses at the railing to look out at the waves, and as I wait in vain for a trio of hockey-playing demons to attack, we do a slow push-in towards Tony and dissolve into our first flashback of the evening.

Now, unlike certain other television producers who have shows on Sundays at 9:00 (and who also have a C as their last initial), David Chase chooses to eschew any sort of graphic or hip, squiggly font (tm djb) to let us know we're in flashback-land. Instead, he pans down from a TV news report about the OJ Simpson civil trial to a considerably more hirsute Tony and a clearly-not-dead Jackie Aprile Sr. (who will obviously be known as "The Late Lord Fuckpants" for the remainder of the recap). And when you stop to think about it, using the OJ trial to "frame" the episode is actually pretty damn funny. The boys are seated in a booth in some diner off the boardwalk, and since I don't recap OJ jokes (though I'm apparently not above making them), we'll just move on. They're joined by Big Pussy, and oh how I've longed to write those words this season. In any context. Pussy grunts and grabs his ever-troublesome bad back as he sits, this time blaming the injury on "Fucking ValuJet. Trying to save $50." I'm so forwarding a copy of this tape to the MBTV accounting department along with a copy of my most recent expense voucher (and incidentally, those Vegas bills to The Chicken Ranch were for research on the whole "little hookers giving little blowjobs" thing. That's a perfectly legitimate business expense, and I've got dirty pictures of anyone who says otherwise). Pussy proceeds to explain that he flew down to Boca to meet with Junior, who's apparently afraid that The Late Lord Fuckpants wants him dead for some reason. For the record, "Boca" is the only episode title mentioned this week, so I guess David Chase thought it was a pretty good recap too. Thanks, Sars. ["Thank you." -- Sars]

The conversation makes its way outside, and Pussy continues (at great length) about some sort of contretemps involving Junior being upset that Jackie Sr. got made Lord instead of him, and yeah, we've all heard this plot before. I usually find the constant repetition on this show oddly comforting in a way, but this week it all just seemed so forced. On the other hand, as a repetitive writer myself, I can certainly sympathize. I mean, what are you gonna do? Anyway, The Late Lord Fuckpants orders Tony to set up a meeting, and turns the chat into a sit-down by, well, sitting down. Pussy starts bitching about some cruise Angie has booked him on, thus giving The Late Lord Fuckpants the perfect opportunity to mention that he'll be skipping his vacation this year so that Little Lord Fuckpants can study for his SATs. "Pray he goes to a state school," says Pussy, bemoaning the high price of a college education these days. And since Rutgers is in fact known as the "State University of New Jersey," I guess some prayers do get answered. I have to take time out for a tangent here, and mention that my friend Marc's father works at Rutgers. None of you care (and to be perfectly honest, neither do I), but Marc's been my friend since the sixth grade, and his last name is Tannenbaum, and he was more than a little upset that I didn't mention him in conjunction with Noah. And he's sorta got a point. If there ever was a real Chasidic Homeboy, it'd be Marc. Pussy complains about his finances some more, and Jackie offers to give him whatever money he needs. "Don't be moving that 'H' no more, Pus," warns Tony. Pussy doesn't answer, just turns to stare out at the waves. "I always wanted a house by the ocean," he sighs. "Maybe in another life."

The crashing waves and receding hairline bring us back to the present day, and Paulie joins Tony on the boardwalk. "Are we going to see your boat?" he asks nervously, clearly thinking that he might be joining Pussy at the big ocean-front time-share in the sky. Tony puts him at ease, and wistfully admits that he was just "thinking about [their] former friend." Paulie, however, claims to never, ever (ever) think about Pussy. Then he takes off his coat, dons a tiara and frilly pink tutu, and dances a quaint little jig to celebrate his transformation into this week's Exposition Fairy. It's something about Junior hijacking a truck or some such, and if this subplot mattered at all I'd probably be able to muster up the energy to rewind the tape and find out exactly what he said, but right now I just don't care. Which means you just know that the entire season finale is going to hinge on one minor detail of his monologue here, and I'll be feeling like a total idiot. The sea breeze is not at all being kind to Paulie's hair, by the way. He looks like a porcupine. With bright white quills. As they walk along the boardwalk, Paulie explains that he seems to have developed a Pants Predicament of his own. Apparently, some electrician on the Esplanade owes him a hundred thousand dollars behind some college basketball bets, but Joey Pants has the whole project held up with a strike until the contractors cough up some extra dough. I bet Joey was trying to get the Hollywood writers out on strike too. He's gotta be pissed about getting written out of The Matrix sequels. Anyway, when Tony weighs the value of Paulie's sports book (except isn't it Christopher's now?) against the "millions" from the Esplanade, his decision is predictable. "I figured you'd take his side," gripes Paulie, and Tony flashes him a "what are you gonna do?" look. Paulie softens his stance to just ask for a few off-the-books jobs for his electrician, saying, "I shouldn't get something off this Esplanade?" I didn't think Paulie even knew the word "esplanade," but then I remember that his hagiography will heavily feature the word "parthenogenesis," so I'll let it slide.

Das Sopranohaus. Carmela strides in, laden with gifts and purchases. Tony, however, is still zonked out on the bed. Carmela passive-aggressives a storm of noise, and Tony finally jerks awake. Of course, men sometimes being how they are in the mornings, the first thing he grabs is his log (and while not quite reaching "cheese & strippers" levels of hilarity, log jokes like that will never cease to amuse me). Actually, the notebook contains his Christmas to-do list, including items such as: "Boat" (checked off), "Transfer cannolis," "Gift for Carm," and "Scooter." I'm open for theories on that last one, by the way. As long as your theory isn't that "scooter" is some sort of racial slur, that is. Anyway, Tony finally manages to sit up, but then for no discernible reason he begins having a panic attack. He huffs and puffs, and blows himself right back down onto the bed, just as Carmela enters. She's totally oblivious to his plight as she runs down a list of all the Christmas-related errands in her own log. One of them is getting "the digital video for Meadow," which is probably a nice, subtle product-placement for the Wernick site, but hasn't she been filing videos there for like three months now? Carmela continues running down her list of gripes, not the least of which is that Janice wants to cook dinner on Christmas night, because Carmela is cooking for Christmas Eve. "Do you really want to turn her loose on shellfish?" she asks, and all I can say is "Ha!" to all the people (well, okay, just the one person) who mocked me when I asked which ethnic group served turtle for the holidays. Janice also volunteered Carmela to help her cook this meal, which Tony doesn't care about at all until he learns that he has to go over there to fix a broken fuse-box. "But I'm busy!" he whines, lolling about on the bed in his pajamas.

Kris Kringle: I don't know. Also, ho ho ho. And it's your show, but he doesn't look that busy to me.
David Chase: What do you know from busy? You work, like, one day a year.
Kris Kringle: Uh, hello? Have you seen the latest census figures? There's a lot friggin' kids out there. Plus they're all over the damn place. I'm thinking of trading in Rudolph for one of those new GPS models.
David Chase: Now see, that's exactly my point. In the gift-giving system, the children are represented by two separate, yet equal groups. The elves that make the toys, and the reindeer that deliver them. All you do is fall down the chimney, and yet all the stories are about you.
Kris Kringle: Yeah, and you've got writers, directors, and editors all over the place. What the hell do YOU do besides walk around moaning "What am I gonna do?" all day?
David Chase: That's a good point.

Melfi's office. Tony is relating the news of his panic attack. "I was feeling good. Now all of a sudden, I'm back to square one." Actually, slightly before it, if my readings of the flashback chronology are accurate. They discuss whether or not he's been taking his medication regularly (he hasn't), and then the conversation moves to his log. It took a mighty big effort, but I'll restrain myself from making yet another inappropriate log joke this time. Tony shows her all the errands he has in there, and Melfi interjects and refers to Christmas as "Stress-mas." I'd criticize the writers for using such a crappy pun, but as I've already said, I can certainly sympathize, having been long since introduced to both the pot and the kettle on that one. Anyway, Tony was looking forward to Christmas this year, but now here he is, "right back down the rabbit hole." Say hi to Alice for me, would you? She doesn't live here anymore, you know. At this point Melfi sighs, and apparently also forgets that she's not on Boot Camp as she commands Tony to "run the drill again." Tony relates that the attack started when he was thinking about a past event that he can't really explain. "I see," said the blind man as he picked up his hammer and saw. Okay, actually it was Melfi who said it, but that one was too easy to pass up. Plus it's totally a shout-out to my dad. Hi, Dad! "Shout-out" doesn't mean I'm talking back to you, by the way. "We're at one of our favorite junctures," continues Melfi, and Tony finally manages to get his story across "without going into specifics." See, there was this friend of his, whom he discovered was "working for the federal government." He gives Melfi a hard stare as she absorbs this news. "Enough said?" he asks. "Am I ruining your Christmas?" Given that it's May, I'm guessing the answer to that one is "no."

Janice's Joint. She and Aaron the Narcoleptic Doppelganger are jamming on the sofa. He's on keyboards, and she's on guitar and lead vocals. And while Janice and The Narcoleptics doesn't have quite the same ring to it as Josie and The Pussycats, the Narcoleptics are probably better at playing their instruments. But just barely. Janice is certainly strumming away with fury. Remember that in a few minutes when Tony arrives. They start arguing about the lyrics, and Aaron describes the line "his blood cleans every stain" as "a great mother-jumping lyric." Well, I guess that kills the shout-out theory. I would never, ever (ever, ever, ever) say "mother-jumping." Ever. Janice doesn't like it, though. "Yeah, but what? Are we selling Ajax here? His blood cleans every stain?" Heh. The doorbell rings, and Janice hops up to let Tony and Carmela in. Aaron passes out almost immediately. Okay, that I would do. Janice explains that they're working on a demo, and "trying to attract some major-label interest here." Dude, just call Gerald Levin. I'm sure Warner Brothers Records is just lusting after all the cross-promotional opportunities. Aaron, by the way, has also spilled his drink all over the floor. I do that a lot, too. As they move into the kitchen, both Tony and Carmela raise an eyebrow at how filthy it is, and -- oops, guilty again. At this exact moment my fridge contains two boxes of Chinese food, some Thousand Island dressing, and several small colonies of those tiny aliens Lisa raised in a The Simpsons Halloween special a few years back. They all say "Hi" too, Dad. Anyway, Tony refuses to come to dinner unless the place is cleaned up, but Janice blames the mess on her wrist, which is still bothering her. It doesn't seem to be affecting her guitar-playing ability (although with Janice, could you even tell?). Carmela asks if Janice has any rubber gloves (and again with Janice, do you even have to ask?), and proceeds to start cleaning up herself. Tony interrogates Janice about her wrist, which is now suffering from "nerve involvement." "From the Russian?" he asks, and Janice admits that while it was "the worst night of [her] life, at least it led [her] to Jesus." Tony snorts and asks when she last visited a prayer group. "I know," she confesses, "and Aaron and I don't even sleep together anymore." Wow. I guess "mother-jumping" was the exception that proves the rule. Janice explains about Christian Contemporary music, and how it's the fastest growing segment of the music industry not featuring artists named Britney, Christina, or Eminem. As Aaron finally manages to rouse himself, Janice heads back to the kitchen with one final wince of pain. Tony obviously feels for his sister, and adds "Janice's Russian" to his to-do list. Meanwhile, The Narcoleptic Doppelganger starts noodling on the keyboard. I'm not sure, but it sounds like this "blood cleans every stain" song will be plagiarizing Beethoven's "Ode To Joy" rather heavily.

Kris Kringle: Ha! Man, I appreciate that guy. He's so totally my favorite Aaron.
David Chase: Oh, I know. Although, don't tell Sorkin this, but I'm kind of partial to Hammerin' Hank myself.
Kris Kringle: Well, who isn't?
David Chase: That's a good point. And for what it's worth, you're absolutely my second favorite Kris.
Kris Kringle: Aww, thanks. Who's your first?
David Chase: Kris Kristofferson. It's twice the Kris.
Kris Kringle: I guess that's understandable. Hey, I bet I can guess your least favorite Aaron

At the Bing (whose backroom of late bears a suspicious similarity to the Paulie's-apartment set), Silvio, Christopher, and Hesh are unpacking the Christmas ornaments. Hesh pulls out a tiny piece of the tree, remarking, "Here's a branch. I don't see the rest of the tree." I was about to go off on a rant about why the show's only Jewish character is doing the Christmas decorating, but then Christopher replies with "Fuck that philosophical shit," and I'm literally laughing too hard to care anymore. Silvio finds the Santa suit, and everyone gets all sad. "I don't even want to touch this fucking thing," laments Silvio, but before those who didn't see the previews can get an explanation on all this, Tony, Paulie, and Ray "Office Depot" Curto arrive. There's hugs all around, and we finally get that missing exposition. It was Big Pussy that always used to play Santa for the kids, and as Chris points out, "This is the first Christmas in history I remember him not being [there]." Paulie mentions how he and Tony were just discussing Pussy the other day (and with this crew, wouldn't that be true every day? With a lower-case "P," of course), and how he was totally different when he got back from Boca. Ray "Remember me?" Curto interjects, "Two-faced fuck. To sell out your friends to save your own ass? It's despicable." I never thought I'd be saying this about The Sopranos, but everybody watch out for falling anvils. The ones made of iron-y are the heaviest. Ray "You know, the rat guy? Episode two? Anyone?" Curto then tries to get them to talk about killing Pussy by proclaiming that "that was one ride [he] would have liked to be in on." Tony, however, just doesn't want to discuss it anymore. ["Episode Two is gonna have Ewoks in it, by the way." -- George Lucas] And is it just me, or is that like the bazillionth time Tony's just missed getting nailed on tape this season? It happens about seventeen more times in this episode, too. The gang tries to figure out who'll take over as Santa, and everyone's eyes slowly turn to Tony, because "it's fitting. After all, it was [his] father who started this tradition." Paulie slides back into his tutu and delivers the full back-story on Johnny Boy and old man Satriale. Anyone interested in hearing it all can just go watch "Fortunate Son." Or better yet, read that recap, because this one is already running long. Silvio (who's been hilarious the whole scene) tries one last time to get Tony to don the suit.

A sleigh-bell musical medley leads us into the scene, as Tony goes dashing through the snow in a three-hundred horsepower Chevy Suburban. He arrives at some restaurant/community center with Cyrillic writing all over the place. A drunk Russian guy greets him, and then the big Russian mob boss comes over to chat. The drunk guy (whom I'd swear is being played by Gerard Depardieu, because let's face it, the guy's not working anywhere else) does a funny drunken comedy bit, and then Tony and the boss, who I'll just call Joey Stalin, head into the back. Tony hands over a bag of cash for the Russians to launder through a few of their banks, and it was this very "ripped-from-the-headlines" nod to the Bank of New York scandal that prompted me to go with Law & Order for the opening conversation this week. Anyway, they banter a bit about some stolen cars and other mob business, and then Tony asks Joey Stalin to locate the guy that beat up Janice. Stalin offers to "beat the shit out of him," as guys named Stalin are wont to do, but Tony insists that "this guy is mine." As he walks back outside, the ever-efficient Tony opens the log and scratches off both "transfer cannolis" and "Janice's Russian."

Wow! Even the strippers are good on this show. I won't describe the move that opens this scene, but if you've got a tape, check it out. Now that's impressive. Silvio is hanging out at the bar, but when he notices that something is amiss under the counter, he flips out and yells for the DJ to stop the music. "What happened to the Jarlsberg that was under here?" he asks, in a highly accusatory tone. I have no idea what strippers are really thinking about when they're up there, but somehow I doubt that indulging the boss's fromage fetish is too high on their list of priorities. Turns out I'm wrong about that one, however, as The Only Stripper Besides Tracee That Gets To Talk replies, "Debbie had a rondele of Brie missing from her purse yesterday." Bwa ha ha ha! But what kind of a daft punk steals Brie? Silvio heads into the dressing room to investigate. The requisite spooky sound-effect is provided by a dangling pay phone's busy signal, and Silvio spreads apart a rack of costumes to reveal a bloody Big Pussy, caught in a bloody big mousetrap. But then suddenly Silvio jerks awake, and it turns out that the whole cheese thing was just a dream. Which is kinda frustrating, because I'm still going to have the Monty Python sketch stuck in my head for the week.

Quick cut to Tony "Boxer Rebellion" Soprano opening his front door to reveal a downtrodden Silvio. StR was 889 here, but I think that may be some sort of flashback-related Y2K bug, because the episode wasn't nearly that good. They head down into the basement for a chat, and Tony fusses with the pull chain on the overhead light while Silvio tries to convince himself that they did the right thing with Big Pussy. "I can't believe I didn't notice back in '95," complains Silvio, but Tony is only interested in complaining about Meadow taking the lamp to school. Here's something else I never thought I'd say about The Sopranos: We. Get. It. Really. Silvio wonders if Pussy was possibly flipped when he was down in Boca, but Tony knows that wasn't it. "It was the sit-down," he intones, and I guess they should have just made it a chat. Or maybe a flashback.

More OJ. Fortunately for Tony, he's the kind with no pulp. Everyone is at the Aprile crew hangout when Junior arrives with Gigi in tow. Aww, and I was looking forward to a younger, svelte Bobby Bacala. Junior bitches that Bonpensiero isn't there(o), but Tony vouches for his safety. "You think I'd hurt my only uncle?" Actually, yes. Yes, we do. And let's not even talk about Livia and the pillow. Cut to later (relatively speaking, that is. It's still 1995), and Pussy finally shows up after the meeting is over. "You better have a good excuse for why you're still alive," he's told, and he offers up something about his goomah's mother having a stroke. "Did you get laid?" Jackie asks, and all is forgiven when Pussy admits that he did.

Back to the future. "We should have known right then," says Paulie. Tony reminds him that they try to get informants back out on the street that day, so "you don't have time to think."

Vesuvio. Tony, Paulie, and Silvio swap stories about their Christmas plans with the goomahs. Paulie, by the way, is getting his a diamond from "a Jew in the city." I'd be offended, but anyone who's ever gotten engaged knows it's true, so why bother? Tony reveals that Gloria went to Morocco by herself for the holidays. "Who is she, Bada-Bing Crosby?" asks Paulie. Snerk. "She's not one of those girls," replies Tony with pride. "She sells Mercedes. Smart. Gorgeous. Too good to be true." Foreshadowing, feeling left out with all the attention Contrivance has been getting lately, stops by and seeks comfort by devouring those two boxes of Chinese food in the fridge. They notice a girl whom they find attractive, but who I find to resemble some kind of vampire grape. There's much shock and amusement all around when they realize it's Charmaine. "the blind will see and the lame will walk," laughs Paulie, and even though it's not 1995 in this scene, I was still way ahead of them with that joke. She comes over to join them, and there's some strained small talk before Charmaine leans in and confides that she thinks the two guys in the corner are FBI agents. Then she cracks up laughing while the boys stare at her in disbelief. "I'm kidding!" she finally admits, and then walks away, cackling madly. Back in the kitchen, she and Artie immediately start fighting about how she'll "vilify a man behind his back and then smile in his face." Artie then performs a full-body imitation of her smiling that's almost as impressive a physical feat as Vertical Valerie the stripper's move a few scenes back. She insults his cooking, and he walks off to soothe Tony and the crew. Silvio can't let it go, though. "She's over here joking about the FBI. Since when is that funny?" I have noticed that it's been a while. Tony gets a call on his cell phone, and proceeds to write a Russian name down on his hand.

Cut to the one scene which (along with the purloined parmesan, of course) makes recapping this episode all worthwhile for me. Tony and Furio, both sporting red Santa caps, climb into a cab driven by that guy who beat up Janice that one time. You know, in episode three? When she stole the leg? It's been longer than a month of Sundays since that one. ["Incidentally, our Episode III is being filmed with the latest in digital Ewok-Vision technology. It makes the screen all furry. You'll love it." -- George Lucas"] The driver (who, according to Tony's left hand, is named Igor), seems to feel that Tony looks familiar, but Furio explains the coincidence by saying that "he's the designated driver." "No, you're the desigigignated driver," replies Tony. It's really the hats that make it funny, but Tony's take on drunk does manage to elicit giggles, and I don't think I need to tell you my thoughts on Furio. More jingling sleigh bells take us out of the scene, and Igor dashes off over the fields to the airport Ramada, with Tony and Furio laughing all the way. Ho ho ho.

Casa di Soprano. This time it's Carmela in bed when Tony arrives. She asks how his dinner was, and then starts right in quizzing him about Charmaine and how good she looks now. "What are you, disappointed?" asks Tony. "Her husband dumped her and you thought she was gonna look like a croll?" Carmela, proving that AJ's linguistic difficulties are deeply encoded in his DNA, doesn't know what a croll is. Nor does Tony, apparently, who defines it as "a cronea troll. I don't know." He climbs into bed, and Carmela gives up the argument and turns out the light, moaning about her holiday-stress-induced headache. I bet Tony hears that one a lot. There might have even been some parthenogenesis at play in creating AJ. That would explain a lot. Tony flips on the TV and finds It's a Wonderful Life, prompting him to mutter, "Jesus, enough already." I know how you feel, my friend. I know how you feel.

Christopher, on the other hand, is feeling worried that they haven't managed to find anyone to play Santa this year. He's back at the Bing with Paulie, Silvio, and Tony. Chris claims he can't be Santa because he doesn't have any kids, and when Silvio points out that being childless never stopped the real Santa, they all go off with a whole slew of elf jokes. According to Paulie (who saw "something on TV"), the elves used to serve as Santa's enforcers, beating up the bad kids while the good ones got the toys. A Google search on "elf death squad" turned up some truly frightening results, but nothing that would confirm or deny this week's Paulie Proclamation. The guy's been right about a lot of weird shit over the years, though, so I'm gonna give him the benefit of the doubt on this one. There's some mention of the Grinch, and I guess Christopher still hasn't kicked his Hollywood jones, because all he can think about is the hundreds of millions the Jim Carrey flick raked in. Before he gets the chance to give his own personal (and reasonably well-informed, one would assume) viewpoint on the resolution to the writer's strike, Bobby Bacala arrives, carrying a stack of toys for the party. He explains, "They're from [him] and Junior. They're not wrapped, but that way they can see what they're getting." Plus, we all know wrapping is wasteful to the environment. Silvio appraises Bobbie for a moment, and then prompts Tony to look as well. Without saying a word, suddenly everyone is on the same wavelength. Everyone but Bobby, that is, who refuses to play Santa, largely because he's "shy." Heh. I've know I've complained a lot about trading plot for cameo clips here, but it is worth noting that the individual segments themselves are all pretty good. Paulie doesn't buy the shy-guy line, and gets in Bobby's face, reminding him that "the boss of this family told you you were Santa Claus. So, you're Santa Claus. Now shut the fuck up about it." Tony nods his head in agreement, and a supremely non-jolly Bobby slowly walks out of the room.

Janice's Joint. She's in the kitchen, cleaning and preparing an entire goose, head and all. I've never eaten goose, so is that really how you serve it? On the TV in the background, a reporter is surprisingly not discussing OJ Simpson. Instead it's the "strange and macabre Christmas story" of a Russian guy found beaten and left for dead under a sleigh in the front window of [oddly product-placed company name deleted]. Janice gasps in surprise when she realizes who the victim is, and the reporter goes on to mention that police are questioning members of "a marauding youth gang, known to claim Newark as their turf." Ha! I won't say I told you so, except that I did tell you so. Just so you know. Janice storms into the dining room and wakes up My Narcoleptic Doppelganger. She knows exactly what's missing from their song: "It's the brother concept." "He ain't heavy?" wonders Aaron, and I had me one heck of a mother-jumping laugh at that one. "No. I mean, not exactly," replies Janice, and I only caught that one on the second time through. Plus she seems to have taken my "Tattoo You" jokes (also from way back in episode three) literally to heart. Twice, in fact. She's got the Stone's tongue logo right there on her left breast. Aaron notices that she's crying, and she sniffles that "sometimes we really don't see our loved ones."

Cut to Meadow, coming home to see her loved ones. She finds Carmela curled up on the couch, admiring the tree in an overly-elaborately lit living room. Meadow pours herself a glass of wine, and they talk a bit about school and Hunter, and while they are sitting down, this one's really more of a chat. Carmela asks about Jackie Jr., and Meadow reports that he's off visiting a sick friend who's in the hospital with appendicitis. Foreshadowing leans over and completely violates my house spoiler policy by telling me that, unlike Big Pussy, Little Lord Fuckpants never actually manages to get laid while using his crappy medical excuse. "So you and Jackie Jr. are getting pretty close?" Carmela asks in a yet another repeat, this time of the conversation they had about Noah back in episode six. Just like then, Meadow declines to answer. I guess we're supposed to get that Meadow has grown up since then and learned a valuable lesson about love, because instead of sneaking into Mommy's bed in the middle of the night for comfort, she's now all dressed up and sipping confidently from her wine glass. Realizing she won't get an answer, Carmela finally turns away and looks back to the tree, remarking that "the new angel looks really great."

Shockingly, that doesn't lead straight to a shot of a topless Jason Cerbone. For those wondering about the ten bucks I owe you from last week, rest assured that Payroll is docking my salary, and you'll all be getting checks in the mail. It may take a while to get everyone, but don't worry, I'll be here, churning out recap after recap, week after week, with no commercials, no repeats, and not even a single rescheduling for sweeps. If nothing else, we've got a great medical plan here at MBTV, so I should be good for at least another fifty years of this. Anyway, instead of Little Lord Bigtraps, we get Silvio and Christopher at Vesuvio. Tony walks in and goes all Fat Cat Frida by asking, "Wanna see fifty Gs?" before showing them the necklace Carmela asked for last week. He'll spend it on that, but not on Columbia? They're both basically blackmail. Anyway, for some reason Charmaine is working the coat check tonight, and this time she's definitely not smiling in Tony's face, even after he tells her, "Carmela was right. You look great." I still don't see it, but whatever. Charmaine finally gets the opportunity to say all the things she never could before. "I didn't want you and your boys coming in here. And look what happened? Look what you've done to my husbandhe's a friggin' mess." Tony grabs his coat back and drags his boys right out of the restaurant. Silvio suggests they go "check out the competition."

And so they do. The strippers in this joint aren't half as talented as the girls at the Bing, but one of them is wearing felt reindeer antlers, and I just find that really funny for some reason. The boys are doing shots at the bar, but then Silvio (who's got eyes like a hawk this week) spots Little Lord Fuckpants getting a Little Lady Lapdance in the corner. Tony strides over with a determined look in his eyes, and Jackie quickly pushes the girl away as soon as he notices Tony. Tony orders him into the men's room for a little talk, and Little Lord Out-Of-Excuses-Pants tries to use the old "bachelor party" line again. Once they reach the bathroom, Tony doesn't really do much talking. Instead, he just starts beating on the kid, who looks like he's about to cry. I guess we should just be thankful he didn't wet his pants. Tony throws him up against the wall, and then notices the gun in Jackie's pocket. "What's this?" he asks, before telling the apologetic Jackie Jr. that he's "bottomed out." He knees Jackie right in the Little Lord, and while Tony is the boss and all, Furio is way better than he is when it comes to that little trick. "You've bottomed out," he repeats, as he leaves Jackie curled up on the bathroom floor.

Das Sopranohaus. Tony "Roberto Alomar" Soprano comes down the steps into the kitchen, looking even more disheveled than usual. "I wish I could get up at 11:30 every morning after being out God knows where," whines Carmela. Since that pretty much describes my entire college experience, I can certainly sympathize with her as well. Or at least I could until she started banging all the pots and pans together. Can we get a little more passive with our aggressive here, please? It's still pretty early, you know. Tony tries to assuage her jealousy by describing himself as "the monogamy poster-boy." "What about Charmaine?" she asks, and Tony swears he didn't do anything. "You did in high school," she reminds him, and even for Carmela this Charmaine obsession seems like a bit of a stretch. Tony continues to protest his innocence (and rightly so, at least in this case), but Carmela has had it. "It's too late, all right? I don't believe anything you say anymore."

Cut to Melfi's office, where Tony is explaining his problems with Jackie Jr.. Melfi asks if he feels responsible for Meadow and the Little Lord's relationship, and Tony answers with a remark I'll not repeat here. Suffice it to say that he does, in fact, feel responsible. Tony wonders if he should tell anyone what he saw, especially since "it would break [Meadow's] heart if she knew." There's a long pause here, and then Melfi takes a deep breath before changing the subject. "I was thinking about what we were talking about last time you were here. You know, your friend who was working for the federal government? Granted, I get most of my information from the movies and Bill Kurtis, but I was thinking" Tony obviously sees this as being as much of a professional and ethical violation as I do, because he immediately gets up and stalks out without a word, slamming the door behind him.

Satriale's. There's kids lined up around the block. Inside, Silvio is helping Bobby get into the Santa suit. Watching this reminds Tony of Pussy back in '95, when he showed up at the party already dressed as Santa because he must have been wearing his wire. Much like another famous director (who also has "C" as his last initial), David Chase now chooses to use an Alvin & The Chipmunks song to designate the presence of a flashback. That's certainly one of my more obscure references, so there's special bonus points for the first poster to correctly identify the director and the movie in the forums. Despite my best efforts, you guys haven't been doing too well in the Rae Dawn Chong challenges, so I guess we're gonna have to try something a little different. This is also probably where Sars would insert a sidebar on the unfairness of Alvin & The Chipmunks getting the nod over Josie & The Pussycats, but this recap is still longer than the episode ever was, so I'll just move on. Anyway, it's 1995 again, and a drunken SantaPussy (you know, kind of like Octopussy, only different) wanders into Satriale's with his son. He orders the kid to go make him a sandwich, and when Tony calls him a "method actor," Silvio takes the opportunity to get off another Godfather imitation. The writers, thus having taken the opportunity to check yet another item off their "hooks and gimmicks" clip-show contents list, now remind us (yet again) that Pussy is wired by having him flip out when Paulie tries to rub his belly. "What are you, Mr. Sensitive over here?" asks Tony as Pussy and his cigar stumble into a chair. Silvio calls for Christopher to bring them over an ashtray, and Christopher, by the way, is wearing a baseball cap. You'll quickly come to realize that baseball caps are now the international Mafia symbol for "I'm five years younger in this scene." Pussy immediately starts in talking about work, but once again, before Tony can say anything incriminating, Christopher interrupts. Pussy screams, "I'm talking here," and turns to throw a glass right at Chris's head. He misses, but it does smash the jukebox, thus mercifully bringing the chipmunk portion of the soundtrack to a close. Pussy and Tony almost trade punches at this point, but they're quickly separated by Paulie and Silvio. Before things can go any further, The Late Lord Fuckpants walks in with Little Lord Fuckpants, and hey, is that Jimmy Altieri? Seriously. He looks familiar, but I'm not sure. Silvio greets them warmly, and The Late Lord tries to show off by flaunting the Little Lord's intelligence. "Tell them what you told me in the car on the way over here. What's the capital of Canada?" Jackie Jr. is also wearing The Baseball Cap Of Youth, and oddly enough it's just a plain blue cap with no logo whatsoever. I can't believe they passed up the product-placement opportunity. Was Nobody Beats The Wiz not interested? Because it's true, you know. Nobody does. Pussy drags himself over to the tree, and Christopher lets in a huge crowd of kids. Pussy instantly goes from surly to, well, Santa-ly, and does a great job of the playing the role. Even Tony has to smile.

Cut back to the present, where Bobby Bacala is the worst. Santa. Ever. And that's including Tim Allen. He forgets the presents, yells at the kids, and won't even say "ho ho ho." When he spots a kid trying to sneak in for a second gift, he really goes nuts. "You were on my lap five minutes agonow you're going on Santa's list and you're getting nothing." The kid responds to this with a spirited and perfectly delivered "Fuck you, Santa," before running back over to the safety of his clearly mortified mother. "Hey my friend, you don't talk that way to Santa," chides Silvio, and Paulie orders the kid to go back and apologize. The look of hatred on Bobby's face as the kid mutters an "I'm sorry" is a classic for the ages. Tony comes over to ask what the problem is, and Bobby is forced to admit that "shyness is a curse."

Tony, Paulie, and Silvio are hanging out in an empty pizza joint, mocking Bobby's Santa skills. "I don't miss Pussy's fake fucking good cheer," admits Tony, but Paulie feels they should let him "stay with the fish." Tony asks why Paulie visited the psychic last year if he doesn't "dwell on this shit," and Paulie explains that situation was different because Chris had been shot, and it was a "paranormal event." He's not worried that Pussy will haunt him because he "loved that cocksucker like a brother, and he fucked [him] in the ass." Tony replies, "Well, that's the difference between Pussy and the others [heh]. Him you loved." "The world don't run on love," answers Paulie, and all that's left is for Silvio to reminisce that "there's one thing you gotta admit. He made a great Santa Claus." "He did," agrees Tony, but Paulie isn't having it. "In the end, fuck Santa Claus."

David Chase: Uh, yeah. Sorry about all that. I didn't know you'd be stopping by.
Kris Kringle: Don't worry about it. That's not even close to the worst I've ever gotten. Kids can be vicious when they don't get what they want.
David Chase: Really?
Kris Kringle: Hell yeah. Never mind the logistics, customer satisfaction is totally the hardest part of the business. Ponies don't grow on trees, you know. Plus friggin' Sony still hasn't shipped my Playstation 2s. B-2-B, my ass.
David Chase: Wow. I had no idea.
Kris Kringle: And look at what these kids today are asking for...computers. Big-screen TVs. Handguns. Talking Ewok dolls. Hell, some kid named Pontoon actually asked for a bong shaped like a pair of boobies. Now sure, we've got those in stock, but still...
David Chase: Ooh, can I get one?
Kris Kringle: Only people on the naughty list get those.
David Chase: Well in that case, fuck you.

Der Tannenbaum im das Sopranohaus. The whole family is gathered around opening their presents, and believe it or not, all four of them are wearing robes. Everybody back away from your TVs. Apparently, it's contagious. I've know I've been infected for weeks now. The doorbell rings, and Carmela opens the door to reveal Jackie Jr. He comes in and gives Meadow a quick kiss before offering a contrite "Merry Christmas" to Tony. He also hands over some gifts from Rosalie, and then makes sure to give Meadow his gift for her right in front of Dad. He watches for Tony's reaction the whole time, barely even glancing at her as she unwraps the silver necklace. It's inscribed, "To MS from JA. I will always be true," which causes Tony to roll his eyes and walk out of the room. Jackie accepts a hug from a thrilled Meadow, but quickly moves to follow her father into the kitchen. Tony gives Little Lord Fuckpants the same silent treatment Joey Pants got when he tried to apologize, but Jackie Jr. just presses on. He admits that he's flunked out of Rutgers, and that he sees Joey Pants "and he didn't go to school, and look at all the money he was making at [Jackie's] age." Fuckpants goes on to explain his plans for The Fashion Institute and Kate Moss and the Little Lord label, assuring Tony that he can be good if he just applies himself. Tony doesn't buy any of it, saying, "You bullshit me, and you betray my daughter." Jackie apologizes profusely yet again, and Tony sends him back into the living room. "But I'm gonna be frank on this," he warns, "I still haven't decided what to do with you."

Cut to AJ cruising the hallways on his brand new scooter. Well, that answers that question, at least. Jackie makes his excuses for leaving, and Meadow walks him over to the door for a goodbye kiss. Meanwhile, Tony hands Carmela her gift, and they start kissing as well. AJ is practically beaming with familial joy as he watches the happy couples. With the Little Lord gone, Carmela finally opens her gift, cracking a huge smile when she sees the label on the box. She pulls out the sapphire necklace, and she and Meadow gush about how beautiful it is. Then Meadow pulls out yet another gift and hands it to Tony, saying, "This is gonna seem really stupid after that, but Dad, this is for you." Tony didn't think she was going to get him anything, and seems genuinely touched by the gift. Until he opens it, that is, and discovers his old nemesis, Big Mouth Billy Bass. "Oh! Those are good!" exclaims AJ, and Meadow proceeds to pull it out of the box for a demonstration. "Now I know I give you a lot of stuff, Dad," she tells him, "and I don't know what you do with it, but I want to see this over your desk." Billy breaks into his big number, cracking up everyone but Tony, who looks like he just got hit by a truck. Fade to long shot of the crashing ocean waves, and that's it for this one.

Kris Kringle: 'Twas eight months before Christmas, and all through the flashback, nary a plot-line was stirring, so HBO owes me some cash back.
David Chase: The rats were all dumped in the ocean with care, "witness protection" never seemed so unfair.
Kris Kringle: The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of Cerbone danced in their heads.
David Chase: And Carm in her sapphires and T in his robe, had Melfi examine his parietal lobe.
Kris Kringle: Now, Pussy! Now, Paulie! Now, Junior and Bobby! On, Silvio! On, Furio! On, Fuckpants and Melfi!
David Chase: And I heard them exclaim, as the season wound down, "Merry Fuckin' Christmas to all, and to all get out. Now."