The Weight

Nestled deep in a high-security, nuclear-bomb-proof underground bunker somewhere in the desert southwest of Taos, New Mexico, The Television Without Pity Advanced Research Projects Facility has long been hard at work on developing the ultimate interactive recap. These are the same people who have already brought you such technological marvels as the forums, the homepage poll, and the brand new text ads, but they've still not yet met their ultimate goal of "One Reader, One Recap." So, as an interim measure designed to make you as readers feel like an integral part of the process, we've decided to present the first ever (and most likely last ever as well) installment of Aaron's Reader Mailbag Without Pity. All of the following are direct quotes taken from e-mails I personally have received in the last seven days. The names have been omitted to protect the idiotic, and the "[sic]" is implied.

Letter #1: "You straight men and your anal-sex-is-worse-than-death sensibilities are hilarious. Could you have made Ralphie's pegging more about yourself with your 13-year-old boy watching 'Deliverance' histrionics? Me hate when man take woman role in sex... me raging heterosexual....! ROAR!"

[To be fair, this person later apologized, and actually seemed somewhat sane. Nonetheless, you'll still have to excuse me for a moment while I hook up my Pabst Blue Ribbon IV and configure the television to show picture-in-picture so that I can simultaneously watch Sunday football and also all the heterosexual porn I TiVoed off Skinemax last night. ROAR!!!]

Letter #2: "Hello! I am Mrs. Sese-Seko, the widow of the late President Mobutu Sese-Seko of Zaire. I am moved to write you this letter in confidence considering my present circumstance and situation...I escaped along with my husband and two of our sons, Johnson and Basher, out of Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) to Abidjan, Cote D' Ivoire where my family and I settled and where my husband died of the cancer disease. One of my late husband's chateaux in Southern France was confiscated by the French government, and as such I have had to change my identity. I have deposited the sum of thirty million United State dollars (US$30,000,000) with safekeeping in Europe. What I want you to do is indicate your interest that you will assist us by receiving the money on our behalf."

[Thirty million? The Ivory Coast? Johnson and Basher Sese-Seko? Sign me up, baby!]

Letter #3: "Are there really any GOOD episodes of Red Shoe Diaries? I mean, really?"

[What's frightening is that this one came from a recapper.]

Letter #4: "I see so many of your staff members choose Farscape among your very favorite shows. So, my question is, why no Farscape column / forum?"

[Um, because it's cancelled?]

Letter #5: "I'm dropping a line about a query I have about the Sopranos TWOP forum, that I'd greatly appreciate any help with. The search function doesn't seem to work and every time I post a decent thread on any TWOP tv show forum, one of the stingy owners of it closes it, to save bandwidthI'm reviewing the show for high school and would find this a great help, if there have been any discussions. Can you also recommend any active and intelligent Soprano's discussion forums, as most of the ones I've come across so far, are pretty lame."

[Here's a quick tip, kids: Calling people stingy and lame is NOT the best way to get them to help you with your homework. ]

Letter #6: "i liked your sopranos recap. however, it was not roy rogers. it was dean martin from the movie 'rio bravo' starring deano, john wayne, and a young rickey nelson."

[Yes. I know. And by the way, there is no prize for being the one-millionth person to tell me this, so please stop trying.]

Letter #7: "So glad you're still grounded, and I hope you find a girl to marry that isn't like me. I'm sure you do, too. Love, Mom"

[I'm grounded for saying that, aren't I?]

So there you have it. I'm afraid I have no choice but to sell you all for medical experiments. But still, never let it be said that TWoP discourages reader participation. Hell, we've probably even encouraged some of your lawyers to participate at this point. So, just remember: Think before you hit send. You don't want to end up like Joey.

We open this week on the gritty, gritty (tm Alex Richmond) streets of the naked city. Except that everyone is dressed, and it appears that a street-cleaner has recently passed by. In a nearby bar, we join Johnny Sack and the newly ubiquitous Ruben the Cuban as they enjoy a few cognacs and discuss the relative merits of dating a dancer from Cats. Down at the other end of the bar, a heretofore unseen member of Joey Pants's crew is laughing and carrying on with a friend. Given his gang's known sartorial stylings, and the fact that we've never seen this guy before and probably never will again, I've decided to dub him Yeoman Donny Red Shirts. Upon hearing his laughter, a seriously glaring Johnny Sack makes what appears to be an abortive attempt to kill Yeoman Donny using Clark Kent-style eyebeam ejaculate. Unaware of the wrath his harmless giggles have incurred, Red Shirts excuses himself to head out to his car. Once there, he's intercepted by Angry Sack, who proceeds to exact revenge using the more conventional mob method of beating the living crap out of the guy. Then he pisses on him. Which was cool, but not as cool as when Keyser Soze did it. And besides, is this really the creative direction the show wants to take after such an extended layoff? No Tony or Melfi, but all the piss, puke, and political posturing you can shake a stick at?

PS: Love the headline.

Although director Jack Bender decides to eschew the Ironic Segue Fairy here by not cutting us directly to an image of a toilet, we nevertheless now find ourselves in the Sacks' master bathroom, where Ginny is climbing on a scale to weigh herself. Trivia buffs take note: She clocks in at about 250 pounds. After noting the results on a little steno pad, she muses for a moment about whether or not to include this particular variable in the episode grading formulas before hearing a sound from downstairs. Upon investigation, she discovers her bloodied and boozy husband returning home from his adventurous night on the town. Questions abound, but Johnny fobs them off with a story about tripping on some stairs. "Jesus, what is this, the inquisition now?" he asks, seeming surprised. Well, of course he's surprised. Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition. He tenderly advises her to get some sleep, and the scene ends with Ginny giving her own personal version of the famous conflicted My Husband Is An Evil, Evil Man, But He's Nice To Me And Buys Me Expensive Stuff, So What's A Girl To Do? look.

Aaron: And now for something completely different.
David Chase: Huh?
Aaron: Well, I've officially run out of shows with opening monologues, and that one from Firefly is so suck-ass that I can't even make fun of it, so I just figured it was time for something different.
David Chase: Um, you do realize that I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, right?
Aaron: What do you mean?
David Chase: Then again, I pretty much never have any clue what you're talking about.
Aaron: You know, I'm not really feeling the love here, Dave.
David Chase: Sigh. I liked this better last season when we had cool guest stars.

Maison de Soprano. It seems that Carmela's investment counseling cousin Brian has escaped from whatever dropped subplot cell the FBI has been holding him in along with Adriana, Gloria, Ray Curto, and Jesus Rossi. He's in the living room, recommending that they invest in an insurance trust, failing to get Tony's jokes about purchasing classic cars as a "growth-oriented reallocation of [their] assets," and generally just reminding me way too much of the overly enthusiastic, jargon-spouting salespeople I work with every day. As Alan Ball would say, "Don't over-close. It kills the word of mouth." Tony's demeanor during the scene, however, makes it clear that Brian was never going to make a sale in the first place, and that's confirmed when Tony espouses a desire to talk things over with his accountant. To his credit, the actor playing Brian does an excellent job of looking like he can't decide whether to be sad he's lost a big commission or relieved that he won't be laundering money for the Mafia. Meanwhile, the phone starts ringing, and AJ hollers down from upstairs that "Uncle Sil" is calling. After he grabs the kitchen extension and hollers back for AJ to hang up, we're treated to a one-sided conversation where Tony basically says, "He did what?!?"

Cut to T's Suburban, screeching to a halt in front of a nondescript office building. Inside, he accosts an unrepentant Johnny Sack, who claims that the beating of Yeoman Donny was a message intended to make Joey Pants, a.k.a. "that foppy cocksucker," aware that Johnny and Carmine know he's been looting the Esplanade. Heh. "Foppy cocksucker" is so my new insult of choice. In fact, I used it on my boss at work just the other day. He was less amused than you might think. "This fucking [Joey] is more creative than Spielberg," continues Johnny, but Tony only cares that it's one of his own employees getting smacked around. Hmm. I wonder if the mob has a human resources department. Anyway, Johnny eventually reveals the real reason behind the beating, and Tony is forced to do a rather pathetic job of pretending he's never heard the "ninety-five-pound mole" comment before. I do note, however, that Johnny, perhaps in a moment of spousal vanity, has shaved five pounds off the weight of the mole in his recollection of the incident. Either way, StTM = 392. Flush with righteous indignation, Johnny delivers a laundry list of all the ways Ginny has tried to fight her weight, including "Weight Watchers," "Richard Simmons," and "fasting." Oddly enough, that's the exact same method I used to write the season premiere recap. "You're telling me how hard it is?" asks Tony, gesturing to his gut. Well, yes. Yes, I am. Sometimes I think people underestimate just how difficult recapping really is.

"It's different for women," continues Johnny, although he's talking about weight, and not recapping. "Body image, self-esteemI'll tell you though, I never had a problem with Ginny's weight. To me, she's beautiful. Rubenesque. That woman is my life." Aww -- he really does seem sincere. It's nice to know that sociopaths can find love in the strangest of places. You know, like New Jersey. Tony is somewhat moved by Johnny's expression of amour, but even so, he's still not sure that Joey's comment constitutes a hanging offense. Sack reluctantly agrees, and even appears contrite over the beating he administered. "My fucking temper," he concedes. "He married, children, anything?" Tony replies that Yeoman Donny still lives with his mother, and Johnny pledges to "send something nice." They share an awkward hug, and, for the moment at least, things seem to be resolved.

Casa del Soprano. Carmela leads Furio into the kitchen, apologizing for the fact that Tony isn't there to be picked up. Yeah. I'm sure she's so sorry about that one. "So how are things at Casa del Furio?" she asks after pouring him a cup of coffee. Shout-out? Furio complains that his Pakistani neighbor won't allow him convert the garage into a guest house for his parents, and Carmela is delighted at this opportunity to show off her real estate knowledge. She's also apparently been hanging out with Adriana too much, because the leopard prints are starting to spread. If Tony's robe sprouts spots, I'm going to be very, very worried. Grabbing a reference book from the living room, Carmela proceeds to give a long-winded explanation of various deed transfer regulations, but Furio isn't listening. He's too busy gazing longingly at the boss's wife. And hell, if he can't be expected to care about "grantees" and court clerks, then neither can I. What he does care about is that Carmela (and also Tony) will be attending the party he's having "for the housewarming" on Sunday.

Columbia. Meadow stands in a hallway, listening to the ugliest sweater in the history of creation describing the benefits of volunteering at "the law center." "Last year, with our help, over half a dozen crack babies were reunited with their natural mothers," explains the sweater. "Several of whom are now in recovery." Heh. Meadow looks pretty good here, so even though she makes a snotty comment about the value of a college education, I'll let it pass without a "shut up." She signs up to volunteer, then heads off down the hall.

Bada Bing back room. Tony, Silvio, and Christopher are trying to figure out who could have told Johnny Sack about Joey's joke. In other words, they're trying to identify the mole mole. Or something like that. Silvio thinks it could have been Patsy, but Chris thinks that the Feds have Vesuvio bugged and are spreading stories to create "a little dysentery among the ranks." Hee! David Chase, ladies and gentlemen. The undisputed master of the malaprop. Although if Silvio keeps wolfing down those McDonald's fries, dysentery might not be all that far-fetched. Chris Albrecht, ladies and gentlemen. The undisputed master of the product placement. Anyway, Silvio gets called out of the room to deal with a liquor inspector, and Tony asks Christopher if he thinks Silvio could be the mole. Chris responds with a very Zen "You never know, T."

Hey, who's this brown-haired lady using all the psychiatric terms? I mean, she looks familiar, but I can't quite place her. Oh! I know! It's Jennifer Melfi. She used to be on this show, but then she got asked to march in a parade, and was never seen again. Well, it's good to have you back, Dr. Melfi. She's in a session with Dr. Boggie, pouring out her concerns over her son Jason's regression during his senior year of college. Apparently he's even considering dropping out of college. Boggie is as unhelpful as ever, especially when Melfi asks about his own daughter Saskia. "Sask has always been highly motivated, kenahora," he responds. Oy. With the Yiddish now, Boggie? What a nudnik. Melfi goes on to explain that Jason has been having problems ever since the rape. "He's powerless to avenge you," responds Boggie. "And he resents his father for the same shortcomings."

And speaking of incipient vengeance, look who's back from Florida. It's Joey Pants! He's greeted warmly by Wide Guy and Thin Guy, and is immediately informed that Tony is on his way over. This naturally leads to the subject of the break-up with Janice, and Joey decides to get in a pre-emptive strike, in case she reveals his predilection for kinky sex play. "You know what that crazy bitch was into?" he jokes. "She wanted to stick a dildo up my ass, and make believe she was pimping me out." Thanks for the recap, Joey. You're apparently a stronger man than I am. Just as Joey exclaims that "the whole family is nuts," Tony knocks on the door and comes inside. Wide Guy and Thin Guy are dismissed, and Tony and Joey sit down to discuss the Yeoman Donny situation. Joey feigns compassion, and also claims he doesn't even remember making a crack about Ginny. Tony calls him on it, and also forces him to call Johnny Sack to patch things up. Cut to Ginny, answering the phone to hear Joey describe himself as her "secret admirer." Heh. She hands the phone off to Johnny, who listens angrily as Joey denies saying anything. Tony, who's also listening in on an extension, tries to coach Joey on what to say, and insists that he not apologize for anything. So, of course, Joey immediately does, prompting Sack to observe that he "should have let Tony chop [Joey's] head off a year ago." With that he slams the phone down, and Tony yells at Joey for apologizing.

New York. Johnny Sack storms into Carmine's restaurant, demanding that he sanction a hit on Joey Pants for violating Ginny's honor. "[Joey] slept with Ginny?" replies a befuddled Carmine. Hee! I love the exasperated look on Vincent Curatola's face after that line. It's perfect. Johnny tells him about the joke, which Carmine makes him repeat out loud. And then he doesn't even get it, which forces Johnny to explain. "The implication was that her ass was so big that she could have a mole that size." Heh. Carmine isn't willing to have a big earner like Joey Pants killed over an "off-color remark," and instead suggests taxing him to the tune of $200,000. Sigh. If only everyone who told jokes that bad could be taxed. There wouldn't be a single sitcom left on TV. ["Or that many recappers around here, either." -- Sars] Johnny isn't placated, however. "Two hundred grand for insulting my wife?" he screams. "What's , Carmine, he gets to fuck her for a million?" Only if he's Robert Redford. And if last night's showing of The Last Castle is any indication, Robert Redford should never be allowed near James Gandolfini again. Carmine, however, simply replies, "[Joey] wants to fuck Ginny?" Hee again! Stupid mob bosses are funny. Realizing that his demands for action are going nowhere, Johnny declares his desire for a sit-down to try to resolve the issue.

Columbia. Meadow is in her dorm room, listening to a young woman describe how her brother was beaten with sticks after being accused of "a crime of severe immorality" for having a photo of Britney Spears in his possession. Heh. Of course, I still liked this scene better on Six Feet Under, when the girl's father set her on fire. But I'm cruel like that. Suddenly Tony wanders past, and Meadow jumps up to greet him. He's carrying a box of Krispy Kremes, whose product placement I'm perfectly willing to accept, because they're just so damn tasty. Mmm, forbidden donut. After exchanging pleasantries for a moment, the girl with the Britney-loving brother gets up to depart. Meadow and Dad share an awkward but conciliatory silence, and then he asks about her new job with the law center, and why she changed her mind about being a pediatrician. Meadow claims she was just considering her career options. A few mildly bigoted statements later, Tony observes that Meadow just "wants to help people. That'sthat's very noble." "Just don't be a sucker," he warns her. "A lot of these people, these indigenous types, they got plenty of money to smoke crack, and gamble, and all that shit." Aww yeah! That one gets double bonus points for not only being a malapropism, but also for being subtly racist, which means it fits Tony to a T. It also sounds suspiciously like the plans for my upcoming trip to Vegas, but that's a different story. "You would know," replies Meadow sweetly, and Tony thinks she's volunteering to help minorities because of the way he treated Noah. Except I think he said "Noel" instead, especially because he pronounced it "Knoll." I, on the other hand, assumed it was because she figured he sold them the crack and provided a place for them to gamble. Either way, it's clear they've reached the point where she's able to sass him about these things in a way that doesn't lead to screaming, tearful, bitter recriminations, or endless repetition of the phrase "Shut up, Meadow." They decide to head off to the bookstore, so that Tony can buy her "a sweatshirt, or something."

Later, in a campus parking garage, Tony is walking back to his Suburban when another car comes around the corner behind him. The previews for this week, which were obviously cut by the crew over at The WB, tried to make this development seem quite sinister, so I was anxious to find out who was driving. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be Boggie. The man may be many things, but sinister will never be one of them. He follows closely behind Tony, presumably so that he can grab the ensuing empty parking space, but Tony takes offense to his tailgating behavior. Boggie tries to wave it off, and Tony fixes him with a menacing glare before turning around to continue walking. And yeah, Boggie was rude to be driving up the guy's ass like that, but still, would it have killed Tony to move out of the center of the lane?

And just for the record, use of the phrase "driving up the guy's ass like that" does not make me a homophobe.

Carmine's restaurant. Joey, Tony, and Johnny Sack make small talk about traffic until we hear a toilet flushing in the background. Carmine steps out of the bathroom, and they all gather around a small table for the sit-down. The putative topic of record is Joey's alleged embezzlement from the Esplanade, but before the guy can say even three words on the subject, Johnny Sack jumps up to walk out. Everyone tries to convince him to stay, but he refuses to be reasonable. I'd spend more time recapping this stuff, but the same thing happens, like, three scenes in a row, so we've got some time to talk about it.

Meanwhile, the hideous sweater has changed into an equally nasty pair of overalls, and they now appear also to belong to Boggie's daughter Saskia. They walk across campus and discuss Jason Melfi, but nothing really interesting happens. I'll just assume they needed an excuse for Boggie to be in the garage with Tony, and leave it at that. Incidentally, notice how I've said nothing about the physical appearance of this particular character. Notice also how this lack of detail detracts from the recap-reading experience, especially for those who haven't seen the episode in question. Now ask yourself why mocking this character's admittedly androgynous appearance is any different from mocking the physicality of any other character on TV. Then go and read our forums, and observe how even well-meaning attempts at enforcing political correctness will quickly lead to ludicrous accusations of homophobia and "Pat"-bashing. It's like mom always said: "If you can't say anything mean and catty, then don't say anything at all."

Chez Soprano. In what would have been this week's requisite robe scene, Tony comes downstairs to find Carmela working a calculator in the kitchen. I say "would have been" because this episode is actually shockingly robe-free. StR=3,425 and rising. Fortunately, it only counts as seven percent of their final show grade. But don't let it happen again, David. After a bit of crumb-cake related business to reinforce Tony's own weight issues, he joins her at the table for a frank and honest discussion of the family's financial situation. "Maybe you don't care about our future, Tony, but I do," snipes Carmela. "Where do you get that I don't care?" replies Tony. "I met with your cousin." "Yeah, you met with Brian. You sat there eating cake and making wisecracks." Ahh, the life of a recapper. It's fun, isn't it? Carmela doesn't think so. In fact, she even starts crying. "When you ignore me, Tony," she says, "when you trivialize things that are important to me -- like this family's financial security -- it makes me feel unloved." Perhaps forgetting for a moment that he's talking to his wife instead of his mother, Tony spits back, "Well, that's your problem right there, because you equate love with money." "YOU equate love with money," shouts Carmela, and as Tony realizes that she's right, we end the scene with one of the show's patented Kitchen-Table Wide Shots Of Familial Dysfunction.

Aaron: You know what your problem is?
David Chase: No, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me.
Aaron: You equate love with technical perfection. That's why we always have to wait so long for new episodes.
David Chase: So? You equate love with forum postings.
Aaron: I do not! And besides, the only reason Shack has more than me is that he's got two shows.
David Chase: You've got two shows!
Aaron: Shut up.

Sit-down, Part Deux. Tony, Silvio, Carmine, and Johnny Sack are gathered at the restaurant, watching Silvio unpack and hook up a brand new cell phone. "Is it safe?" inquires Carmine, accidentally causing millions (well, okay, dozens) of viewers across the world to clench their teeth in sudden Olivier-inspired dentophobia. Silvio says that they'll only use the phone once, and then throw it away. "It's what the Taliban used to do," he explains. Yeah, and look how well it worked out for them. Meanwhile, a matching speakerphone set is being assembled for Uncle Junior by Bobby Bacala. I was just about to comment on how spiffy Tony looked in the suit he was wearing to the sit-down when I realized that Junior was also wearing a suit, even though no one can even see him. Heh. I guess a don really doesn't wear shorts.

Once a connection has been established, and Bobby Bacala has departed for greener pastures better known as "We'll Get To Your Subplot In The Episode, I Promise," the assembled bosses begin discussing the new Pants predicament they find themselves in. Junior asks some fairly intelligent questions about the situation, but Tony remains principally concerned with finding out who's been talking amongst his crew. He even goes so far as to make an eminently reasonable compromise: "You tell me who told you about it, and we'll bring him in here. He corroborates what you're saying, I'll give you [Joey] on a platter." Except with the back problems, you'd probably have to carry Tony Sirico in on a platter, so that's probably not going to happen. Johnny refuses in any case, and tries to point out that in the past, he could have had Joey killed for far less. "Is nothing sacred?" he wonders. "I mean, what happened to this thing? For God's sake, we bend more rules than the Catholic Church." Carmine is emphatic, however, that "no one is getting clipped." Once again, Johnny storms out of the meeting, and everyone is left sit in awkward silence. Everyone except Junior, that is, who at least has his big bucket of olives to keep him company.

The morning -- or more accurately, the afternoon -- Tony is awakened by the ringing of his own cell phone. It's Carmine, and Tony quickly claims to be wide awake and "doing something." I guess dons don't sleep late, either. Without ever actually saying so, Carmine orders Tony to have Johnny Sack killed, so that the Esplanade deal won't be upset. Dun dun DUN!

Bada Bing. Tony laments to Christopher, Silvio, and Joey that he's known Johnny Sack for twenty years, and now he has to see him killed, all over a stupid joke. Everyone turns to stare at Joey. "For Christ's sake!" he exclaims. "You guys never made a joke about Ginny Sack?" They're all quick to deny it, so I'll just tell you to click here to see just as quickly that they're lying. Joey keeps right on insulting the Sacks, asking of Johnny, "Who does he think he is, Sir Walter Raleigh?" I totally don't get that reference, by the way, because even though Raleigh was imprisoned and executed in part over comments that he may or may not have actually made, that would still make Joey, not Johnny, the closer analogue. So who knows? I'm sure I'll be getting email about it, though. Tony goes ballistic, and demands that Joey head back to Miami, where he can hide until they clean up the mess that he's made.

"A mole on her ass?" asks Junior. "What's the joke? I still don't get it." Neither do I, Junior. Neither do I. Anyway, we're at Junior's house, and Tony has come over to solicit advice. Uncle June usually comes off pretty well in these proto-father/son-type chats that they have, so I'm curious to get his take on the situation. "The fucked up thing is that I don't even like [Joey]," sighs Tony. "If he was drowning, I'd throw him a cinderblock. But not protect one of my own captains?" They then take a break from discussing business to indulge in this week's requisite meta-moment, wherein Junior chides a contest on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire for using all his lifelines by the fifth question. Yes, and what does that say about Tony, who's already down to his last phone-a-friend by only the fourth episode? Junior recommends providing deniability for everyone by using out-of-town talent to perform the hit on Johnny. When Tony mentions that Sack frequently travels to Boston to visit his father, Junior relates a long anecdote about a crew from Rhode Island (the Atwell Avenue Boys) and their bad experiences in the drug trade during the sixties. Then he suggests Tony use them for the hit. "What, those sick old fucks?" asks Tony. "They may be old, my little nephew, but those dogs can still hunt."

Cut to Rhode Island, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof, where Christopher and Silvio have gone to contact the Atwell boys. They ring the bell at a decrepit old house, and Christopher observes that "we could do this ourselves. Ninja-style." Hee! That joke is even funnier if you've been playing No One Live Forever 2 recently. The door is opened by a frumpy blind woman, who leads them back into the house to meet the gang. Unless otherwise noted, just assume that Michael Imperioli and Stevie Van Zandt's facial expressions are hilarious. Once in the back room, Silvio and Chris are confronted by a veritable rogue's gallery of geriatric gangsters. The leader is blind himself, one guy is on a respirator, and there's a strangely youthful member standing in the back. It's basically like a Charles River version of Deliverance. And I don't care if it makes me homophobic. Anyone squeals like a pig, and I'm outta here. One of the elderly asks Christopher if he does drugs, which Chris vehemently, if inaccurately, denies, and then Silvio steps forward to talk business. He pulls out a Polaroid of Johnny Sack and Tony at a birthday party, and delivers some instructions about Johnny's travel plans. Then he tries to hand the picture to the blind guy. Heh. The photo finally ends up in the hands of the young dude, and Silvio is emphatic about mentioning that the target is the guy on the left. Apropos of nothing, Blind Guy starts telling a story about how they once grabbed a guy and cut off his head with a hacksaw. "If you'd like," adds Respirator Man, "we could arrange to have that same thing happen again." Silvio: "I don't know that we need to be that, er, overstated." Aaron: "Hee!" The doorbell rings again behind them, and Silvio pulls out an envelope which contains half their $20,000 fee. This time he does hand it to Blind Guy, before leading Chris on a hasty retreat.

At the Sack-Hop, Ginny is in the kitchen, mixing a fruit salad, although personally I think she'd prefer a wafer-thin mint. I'm just saying. Johnny comes downstairs, IN HIS ROBE, and asks about some sweater he wanted to give to his father. And yeah, I know what you're saying. Any robe in a storm, right? Well, I'm a purist, and if it's not Tony in white terrycloth, then it just doesn't count. Ruben the Cuban calls at this point to inform Johnny that Joey Pants has been located at the Del Ray Hotel in Miami. Johnny orders him to send a hit man after Joey, but Ruben still has concerns. "I'd feel a lot better with the Pope's blessing," he says. "Just do as you're told," replies Johnny. He hangs up, and banters with Ginny about the fruit salad for a moment before leaving.

Das Sopranohaus. Carmela studies her real estate manual, frantically searching for any excuse to talk to Furio.

And hey, it looks like she's found one. She and AJ head over to Furio's house in Nutley, where she claims that they were in the neighborhood and decided to drop by. "No we weren't," snots AJ, but the love-struck couple ignores him completely. Furio leads them around to the backyard, and explains that he was out pulling weeds in the garden. He's also got his hair most of the way out of the ponytail, the better to look like Fabio, one would assume. Carmela asks about the garage he wants to convert, which is her quote unquote valid reason for being there. Furio, however, just wants to talk about the old days, when he worked as an olive grower in Italy. "I worked there alonemy hands in the dirtthe hot sunthe manly sweat pouring forth from my strong, manly browmy bulging pectorals, glistening with a fine sheen of my manly musk. Would you like to touch them?" Well, okay, it was actually the subtext that added that last part, but still. Carmela looks moist just listening to the guy. Then she glances over and sees AJ, which is precisely why she brought him in the first place, and snaps out of her trance long enough to explain that zoning variances will allow him to renovate the garage as he pleases. Furio couldn't care less.

Sack-Hop. Johnny is leaving for Boston, and Ginny shows up with his freshly-cleaned coat from the opening scene. After a brief scene of domestic bliss, he heads out the door. , we get shots of him driving to his eventual death in Rhode Island, inter-cut with shots of Joey being stalked by the pool in Miami. Or at least we do until Johnny realizes that he forgot something, and heads back to the house. Once there, he wanders around looking for Ginny, and the director successfully milks what could have been a very ordinary scene for a surprisingly large amount of tension. Is Ginny dead? Is she having an affair? Nope. She's downstairs, sneaking a candy bar from a big stash of them. Johnny goes nuts when he finds her, and a screaming match ensues. He's all, "I thought you were dieting," and she's all, "You were supposed to quit smoking!" "Nicotine is an addictive substance," he bellows. I'll say. And in homage to my Sunday night, late-recap-writing buddy Regina, I'll give that one a big old, "Flickahhhhh." "I know I've gained weight these last few years," Ginny sobs. "I see the other wives, the way men look at them." "Don't I look at you like that?" asks Johnny. "Haven't I always?" Aww again. He really does love his fat, live wife. They grasp each other into a bear hug, and Johnny considers the consequences of everything that's happened so far.

Cut to Miami, where an Asian hit man pulls up in front of the Del Ray Hotel in a Honda Del Sol. Coincidence, or the prop guys getting cute? You be the judge. Out at the pool, we're treated to a wholly unnecessary crotch shot of a pantsless Joey Pants. He's wearing a Speedo, people. I don't get paid enough to do this job. He stands up, puts on a robe that still isn't Tony's robe, and heads inside. Meanwhile, the hit man crosses the lobby to an elevator, and answers his cell phone. Its Ruben the Cuban, and just as the elevator doors open to reveal a carefully posed Joey Pants, Ruben calls off the hit. The hit man, who does bear a striking resemblance to Vern Yip of Trading Spaces, demands half the money because he's already there to do the job. Hmm. I wonder if this guy only gets a thousand dollars per hit. Anyway, Joey gets on the elevator, and the two of them stare evilly at one another for the duration of the journey to the top floor. When he gets off the elevator, Joey unwisely turns around to ask, "What's your fuckin' problem?" Vern just stays silent, and the doors slide shut.

Casa del Furio. The housewarming party is well underway, and Carmela and the other wives are upstairs snooping around the place. Mrs. Little Stevie even goes so far as to check under the blankets on Furio's bed. Carmela's pleasant smile fades a bit, however, when she spots a photo of Furio standing beside a still smoking-hot Annalisa. Aww, now I'm nostalgic. That was one of my first ever Sopranos recaps. Downstairs, Meadow is admiring Furio's CD collection, solely to set up the episode's final scene, and AJ is bitching about how bored he is. Bobby Bacala apologetically informs Furio that he has to leave, because his presence is required in No-Really--Week-You-Get-To-Be-Evil-And-Everything-Land. Outside, however, AJ is busy locking Bobby's kid in the garage. Heh. It's good to know there's someone dumber than AJ in the world.

Back inside, the menfolk are all gathered in one corner discussing business, while the women and children are on the other side of the room. Well, some of the women, at any rate. Adriana is quite conspicuously absent, without any explanation. Furio attempts to persuade Mrs. Little Stevie to dance, but she demurs. When Meadow similarly fails to convince Tony to dance with her, Furio ends up with Meadow on one arm and Carmela on the other. An Italian song starts playing, and Furio tries to teach the girls a dance which bears a suspicious resemblance to a Sicilian version of the Achy Breaky. Meadow quickly gives up, calling herself "such a spaz" (no argument here), and Furio finds himself dancing alone with Carmela. Tony, when he can be bothered to look up from talking about work with Silvio, encourages her to enjoy the dance, and she certainly does. Fade to black.

Fade up on Melfi, back in Boggie's office. She completely ignores doctor/patient confidentiality by comparing her problems with Jason to Tony's problems with Meadow. It seems that this is now the only way they can integrate her into the rest of the show's plotlines, which is kind of sad. Anyway, a brief Boggie non sequitur later, she returns to the subject of the rape, blaming herself for going down into the garage late at night. This, of course, allows Boggie to tell the story of his encounter with Tony, whom he describes as a "big, Bluto sort of guy." He also absolves himself of any blame in the situation, and claims that he was afraid that the guy was going to get to physical with him. "What are you getting at?" asks Melfi. "Parking garages are not inherently dangerous places," he replies. "If this guy had dragged me out of my car and beaten me up, would I be saying, 'Gee, I shouldn't have been trying to park my car'?" It's sound advice, but then he ruins it with a meta-statement about the season thus far: "Anyway, enough about him."

Bada Bing. Tony sits alone in the back room, reading a newspaper. Johnny Sack walks in and sullenly announces that he's decided to accept Joey's apology. Tony, however, wants to break some balls first, and reports that Yeoman Donny has suffered nerve damage. Johnny is apologetic, but unwilling to explain his reasoning. "No more weight remarks," he says. "They're hurtful, and destructive." "Oh, I agree," replies Tony. As do I, in fact. Once Johnny leaves, Tony heaves a gigantic sigh of relief.

Maison de Soprano. Carmela is lying in bed when Tony comes home bearing gifts. He's got a big bouquet of flowers, and also a racy little black number from Saks Fifth Avenue. By the way, get it? Johnny Sack shows his wife real love, and Tony shows his wife boxes from Saks. Talk about gift-wrapping a metaphor for you. Anyway, Carm tries the dress on, and it fits perfectly. Sometimes I forget that Edie is pretty hot herself. Tony certainly thinks so, what with the earlobe nibbling and the breast groping and all. They start to mack mob-style, but the Italian song from Furio's house kicks in on the soundtrack, and Carmela is distracted. She pushes Tony away, and we discover that the music is actually coming from Meadow's room. Carmela jumps up to scream at her to turn it down, while Tony quickly rips off his clothes. And then they jump back in bed, and the cameraman cranks up a funky shutter-speed effect, and we fade to black on the least erotic sex scene ever filmed. And that includes Janice and Joey.

Aaron: Wow. Gandolfini's got a pretty hairy back.
David Chase: Yeah, but he's still no Krause.
Aaron: True. But really, who is?
David Chase: Good point. So can we talk about your criticisms for a minute? I think it's a little unfair for you to expect us to include every single subplot in every single episode. I mean, we only get an hour, and the show has like nine hundred characters now.
Aaron: Whatever. Why don't you send me an email about it?
David Chase: Get out. Now. Or I shall taunt you a second time.