Mergers and Acquisitions

Flickahh. You know, I often tell people that the reason I haven't quit smoking yet is that by the time I get sick from it, they'll be able to clone me new lungs. So why not enjoy a refreshing cigarette every now and then? The sad truth, however, which I can only admit to myself late at night or to thousands of anonymous internet users on a Sunday afternoon, is that I'm hopelessly addicted to the stuff. And like all addictions, be they mine with cigarettes, or Tony's with emotionally unstable brunettes, or mine again with emotionally unstable brunettes who smoke cigarettes, this one requires an enabler. And in my case that enabler is television. Nothing on this earth can make me reach for the remote with my right hand and a pack of cigarettes with my left faster than a Truth.com commercial, and the only appliance in my house that gets more use than the TiVo is the ashtray that sits right to it. So with that in mind, I present to you, the viewing public, a few key indicators you can use to determine if your own TV viewing habits are beginning to cause a problem:

Ways You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Television -- #1: You experience a sense of synergistic geek frisson simply from firing up "University" on the TiVo while simultaneously playing Grand Theft Auto III on the PC, solely because the game happens to feature the vocal talents of Joe Pantoliano while also offering significant rewards for beating and murdering prostitutes.

Joss Whedon: Here's how it is: Buffy got used up, so I formed myself a whole new galaxy of shows, just like those other guys. Some were rich and flush with ratings. Some not so much.
David Chase: What the hell are youoh. Firefly. Riiight.
Joss Whedon: The cable giants formed an alliance, and waged war to force everyone to accept their greatness. A few idiots tried to fight it, among them myself.
David Chase: I'll just wait over here until you're finished.
Joss Whedon: A producer's goal is simple: find a crew; write some scripts; keep making shows so you're never off the air for eighteen months in a row.
David Chase: [Sigh] It's like you knew it was coming all season long, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Joss Whedon: Yeah. Too much foreshadowing can do that to you.

Ways You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Television -- #2: You keep cross-indexed, alphabetized lists of shows that feature an opening narration.

Fade up on Furio, looking forlorn as he sits in the Chez Soprano kitchen. Carmela makes coffee and tries to comfort him as Furio explains that his father is sick with cancer, and that he's flying out to Naples to be with him. He's so distraught over this news, in fact, that he barely even notices when Carmela practically pokes him in the eye with her cleavage. So much for that added frumpiness, I guess. Tony comes downstairs to join them, and after chastising Furio for not having left yet, he makes a show of offering his underling some cash for the trip. Furio declines, and apologizes profusely for not being able to drive Tony that night. Then his father keels over and dies. Fade to white.

Just kidding. We actually cut to someone else driving Tony, and much to my delight, it's Paulie Walnuts. Tony, however, doesn't seem to be enjoying his colleague's return all that much, mainly because Paulie repeatedly insists on holding a conversation about colostomy bags. I don't know about you, but I've found colostomy bags to be right up there with politics, religion, and Ralph Cifaretto's sex life on the list of things people never want to talk about at parties. But maybe I'm just going to crappy parties. Anyway, Paulie is concerned that his mother might need a bag for herself once she gets settled in at Green Grove, but Tony would rather find a different topic for discussion. Or, as he puts it much more succinctly: "For fuck's sake, Paulie. Everybody's gonna get old and die." Well, then. Thanks for the update, Mr. Crankypants. A suitably chastened Paulie asks if he'll be driving Tony the day, but Tony declines, citing a sensitive and highly important business meeting he has planned.

Tanned and rested after a lengthy visit to Disneyland with his new boyfriend the Rally Monkey, the Ironic Segue Fairy shows up for the second scene in a row, cutting us to a golf course where Tony and his lawyer are doing some sensitive and highly important putting. Tony has done well to leave himself with about a two-foot putt for par here, but I have a hard time believing that anyone whose primary form of exercise comes from whipping wayward state assemblymen could have the requisite upper-body strength and control to display that kind of touch on the green. I'm just saying. He and his lawyer discuss a bunch of stuff we already know, and Tony once again repeats his desire to run the business through Christopher, because he doesn't want to "celebrate [his] daughter's first kid in prison."

Thanks to an amazing, Lemieux-like assist from Foreshadowing, the Ironic Segue Fairy is now able to extend his consecutive scene streak to near Ripken-esque proportions by cutting us to a shot of Christopher and Adriana, sleeping the day away. Because if anyone is likely to be in jail by the time Meadow gets pregnant, it's these two nimrods. Christopher is startled awake by the phone, and before his eyes are even halfway open, Tony is already spewing rapid-fire instructions into his ear. Christopher fumbles around for a pen, but when he's unable to find any paper, he's forced to write the directions down on his pillowcase. Heh. I should try that sometime. I always have great ideas for the recaps late at night, but I'm too lazy to get up and find something to write them down with, and I can never remember them in the morning. So just assume that this paragraph had a really spectacular joke in it, and that all of your keyboards are now soaked with the beverage of your choosing. Meanwhile, I'm going back to bed.

, we get a brief shot of Tony sitting alone in the food court of what appears to be the same mall where Adriana met her FBI contact a few weeks back. I have issues with this scene, but we can talk about them later.

Vesuvio. Carmela sits entranced by that Italian cityscape mural on the wall as the world-famous Furio Fantasy Dance Mix plays in her head. Tony finally manages to get her attention just in time for her to grill Artie over whether or not they ever caught the "muggers" who attacked him. After exchanging an awkward glance with Tony, Artie tactfully changes the subject to the dessert menu and then proceeds to clear the table. Once he's gone, Carmela turns to Cousin Brian, and asks for some financial advice on handling the proceeds from the property they sold down in Newark. She means Uncle Junior's place on Frelinghuysen Avenue, but a befuddled Brian wonders if she's talking about the HUD scam. "Kid loves Paul Newman movies," covers Tony. "No more grappa for you." Heh. Brian recovers to explain that he locked them into T-bills with the money, and did so before the rates dropped. "Is there anything this kid doesn't know about money?" wonders an exuberant Tony as he hugs Brian. "You know I trust him a thousand percent." Carmela appears to be two thousand percent dismayed by this news.

Joss Whedon: Man, this show is so boring now. Where's the action? Where's the plot development? Where's all the violence and clever quips?
David Chase: Well, we're trying something a little different now, and
Joss Whedon: Whatever. If I were running this show, Carmela would have totally banished his cheating ass to a hell dimension or something by now.
David Chase: I think what we got here is a failure to communicate.

And if Carmela is unhappy, can Father Intintoola really be all that far behind? We cut to a diaper drive at the church, and I'm assuming this scene takes place a long time after the last one, because Carmela's roots are now significantly darker than they were at dinner. Father Tool Time is upset because they got a lot more newborn diapers than, I don't know, teenager diapers or whatever, but as Rosalie hilariously observes, "The girls at Our Lady shelter should be grateful. I mean, nobody told them to go out and have babies without husbands." Heh. She's feisty now that they've got her off the meds. Anyway, no scene with Carmela these days is complete without a discussion of money, so her and Rosalie start chatting about Ro's financial situation when her husband died. "I didn't know what we had until after I buried Jackie," she explains. "Was it enough?" inquires Carmela. "Sort of," replies Rosalie. "Not really." Carmela is dismayed to learn that the last boss didn't take care of his family, and presumably wonders if Tony will make the same mistake. "I'm not a feminist," she declares emphatically. "I'm not saying 50/50, but Jesus! I put up with the goomar shit, pardon my French." Heh. That line is funny like four different ways. Carmela is at least relieved that Cousin Brian is handling the money now, although she is a little concerned about his newfound relationship with Tony. Rosalie, however, is like, "Dude. Until the guy asks you to rub a cheese grater on his dick, I don't wanna hear any complaints."

Over at the stables, Tony is doing some bonding with Pie-O-My, who seems to have recovered nicely from his near-death vigil with the goat. Something tells me that good health might not last for too long. I'm just saying. And then, as if to complete my thought, Joey Pants arrives like the Angel of Death to announce, "Fuck this horse-whisperer shit," and also to introduce his new girlfriend Valentina. Valentina, it seems, works in an art gallery, has no objections to being referred to as a "Chiquita banana," and apparently shops at a somewhat more upscale version of wherever it is that Adriana buys her clothes. In other words, she's wearing a leopard-print fur instead of leopard-print jeans. After the introductions are made, Valentina steps away for a moment, and then calls Joey over to check and see if she has something in her eye. As he stares deep into her corneas, she gently maneuvers him into a nearby pile of manure, thus earning giggles from everyone in the stables and most of the people watching at home. Joey is incensed, even after being told that stepping in horse shit is considered good luck, but his immortal rendition of the classic line, "Hey fuck-o, where's the hose?" totally makes it all worthwhile.

"You know, it can be risky trusting him to have a sense of humor," Tony tells Valentina as Joey leaves to find the hose. "Did you think it was funny?" she replies. "Yeah, but what I think is funny is what an eight-year-old boy thinks is funny," says Tony. Even so, I still think it was a pretty shitty thing to do. Heh. Get it? "Shitty"? Tony ain't the only overgrown kid in the world. They banter a bit more, and then she hands over a business card and remarks that she knows a nearby painter who could do a portrait of Pie-O-My. Tony takes the offer under consideration, and glances down at the card to check her last name. It's La Paz, and Valentina explains that her mother was Italian and her father Cuban. "That can be a dangerous combination," says Tony. Finally, Joey returns, and gives Valentina a gratuitous grope to set up the rest of the episode's plotline.

From gratuitous gropes to Green Grove we go, as Paulie is in the process of checking Mama Walnuts into her new home. He and his mother stand and listen as the head nurse -- or whatever it is they call the boss of a nursing home -- patiently explains how to use the emergency call button in the room. Meanwhile, Little Paulie and Vinnie Delpino are in the background, unpacking boxes. Man, Vinnie still somehow manages to look like the oldest twenty-five-year-old to ever walk the Earth, doesn't he? He's got, like, a baby face with really bad wrinkles on it. It's very bizarre. It's also apparent that Mama Walnuts ain't exactly the sharpest tack in the box, but her eyes do light up when she learns that her friend Cookie will be living there as well. In fact, they run right into Cookie and her friend when Paulie leads Mom out into the hallway to go for lunch. Never one to demonstrate social graces when a tactless comment will suffice, Paulie pipes up with: "I don't understand. When I was kid, you two were old ladies. Now I'm old, and you two are still old." Heh. After Cookie helpfully exposits that her son is a high school principal, Mama Walnuts has to run back into her room to use the toilet. Once she's gone, Cookie leans in and conspiratorially whispers to Paulie that Mama Walnuts isn't going to be allowed to join their social circle. "It's a set group," she explains. "We eat together, we play Scrabble for money together, and there's really no room at either table." I'm sure there's Depends Undergarments/"Poo Ass" Scrabble joke to be made here, but the Steelers are heading into overtime, and my attention is somewhat divided. Anyway, Paulie pinches Cookie's cheek and fixes her with a mildly threatening glare as he suggests that they find a way to include Mama Walnuts.

Maison de Soprano. Oh, man. You can say what you want about the Soprano sense of style, but I really, really want that home theater system Tony has just bought. It's the perfect gift for the televisually obsessed. And, you know, Chanukah is coming up pretty soon. I'm just saying. As a salesman who bears an unfortunate resemblance to Jackie Aprile Sr. demonstrates all the unit's features, we're treated to the not-at-all foreshadowing scene of Harrison Ford leaping willingly to his ostensible death in The Fugitive. Oh, I'm sorry, did I say "not-at-all"? I meant "completely." My bad. They run through a variety of DMX music channels, and for some reason decide to stop on a station blaring bagpipe music. Tony's delighted "whoa" at hearing the bass thumps could almost give Keanu a run for his money. Carmela sneaks up behind them to tell Tony that she's going to the grocery store, and that she'll pick up a copy of In The Bedroom for them to watch later that evening. The awesome, ear-splitting power of the bagpipes causes Tony reply to this by asking, "What time should I wake you up?" Heh. Finally they get things sorted out, and Tony settles down to enjoy a nice evening of bagpipes and cigar smoke.

Ways You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Television -- #3: You realize that Tony's new remote is the same one that the Osbournes have, and you're disappointed that David Chase didn't go for the contemporary pop culture reference by including a scene where AJ teaches Tony how to use it.

Cut to later, as Tony is sleeping in front of the TV while Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" blares on the speakers. What, no Wizard of Oz? That's two references in a row they've missed. Hmm. Tony finally rises from his stupor and flips the unit back over the TV input, where we once again get a scene from The Fugitive. As only about fifteen minutes have elapsed in the movie since the last time we were watching, this means that Tony has either finally joined the TiVolution himself, or else he's watching a certain cable network with a fondness for running the same movie seventeen times a day. And while we're picking nits, what's up with this show's obsession with the entire Pantoliano oeuvre? They've already done The Matrix, now we're getting The Fugitive, and technically speaking, Joey really actually was Guido The Killer Pimp in "University." Hell, you could even make the argument that the lesbian Icelandic stewardesses and gratuitous ass shot in the season premiere were secretly a subtle shout-out to Bound. I'm beginning to think someone on the writing staff over there has themselves a print-out of Joey's IMDb page, and they ain't gonna stop 'til they get to The Goonies. Anyway, now that the length of this paragraph is completely out of proportion to the importance of the scene it's recapping, I'll just wrap things up by telling you that Tony pulls out Valentina's card and decides to give her a call.

The day, Tony and Valentina go to meet the horse painter she recommended. For the record, this guy is no Degas, baby. I've seen better work at a Bob Ross fan-club meeting. Tony seems to like it, however, and he hands over a picture of himself, Joey, and Pie-O-My, with instructions to crop Joey out of the finished product. Ooh. Now that's just rude. Painter Guy quotes him a price of $6,500, and after ensuring that the frame is included and determining that Valentina thinks it's a good deal, Tony accepts. He pulls out a wad of cash and pays on the spot, which leaves Painter Guy a bit discombobulated. "I'd, uh, better get you a receipt," he says, taking the opportunity to leave Tony and Valentina alone. Tony proposes a toast "the beautiful seorita whose idea this was in the first place." "I bet you say that to all the girls," replies Valentina coquettishly. They banter a bit more, and Valentina suggests that they stop on the way back to get something to eat. "Yeah, we could definitely stop," answers Tony with a knowing smile. Damn. You know why women find Tony attractive? It's pure, unadulterated (bad choice of words here. Sorry.) confidence. From the moment he made that toast, it never even crossed his mind that these two weren't going to end up in bed. And Gandolfini did a perfect job playing it on just the right side of arrogance. Hell, I'm starting to find the guy sexy myself.

Of course, that thought gets quickly dispelled when Leslie Vega's naked breasts come bouncing into the frame. After an only mildly gratuitous sex scene, Tony hops up to use the bathroom, and Valentina pulls on his black dress shirt and sits down to eat lunch. She's really only wearing the shirt for plot-related reasons that will soon become apparent, but she does look damn good in it. At least Sorkin got that one right. While Tony is still in the bathroom, she surreptitiously unscrews the lid on the salt shaker. Oh, yeah. That one never gets old. When he emerges to join her, she predictably encourages him to put salt on his meal, and then giggles wildly at the result. Tony doesn't laugh, but he's also not real angry either, especially after Valentina announces that she won't kiss him because she's eating, and then proceeds to tongue a strawberry in a highly erotic fashion. While she's busy performing fruit fellatio, Tony grabs up her plate and dashes over to hold it outside the window. Remember how playful he is here. It'll be important later. And I guess they weren't all that hungry, because Tony drops the food, and scoops Valentina up in one arm so they can jump on the bed. She loses one of her overly decorative fingernails in the process, which will also be important later, and then Tony solemnly makes her promise that they'll never say anything about this to Joey.

Once again, Tony is back at the mall. This time he's at a jewelry shop, buying a diamond horseshoe for Valentina. He fills out a card, but at the last minute decides to change it from, "It was great while it lasted. Love, Tony" to, "It was great while it lasted. Sincerely, Tony." You know, because sending expensive jewelry to break up with someone is confusing enough without including a mixed message on the card.

Green Grove. It's Casino Night, and Mama Walnuts is agonizing over whether or not she should hit on a hard eighteen while playing blackjack. In anticipation of an upcoming trip to Las Vegas, I've actually entered all the statistical probability charts for this game into my Palm Pilot, which means I can tell you that there's only a 2.5 percent chance that hitting here is a good idea. Yes, I do know I'm a nerd. Why do you ask? In any case, she does decide to take a card, and receives a six for her troubles. Cookie, meanwhile, is furious because she had fifteen, and could have used that six to make twenty-one. "I'm not sure you understand the fine points," snarks Cookie, before suggesting that Mama Walnuts try roulette instead. Looking dejected, Mama Walnuts takes her cane and her own white-streaked hair over to another table.

Casa de Soprano. Tony brushes his teeth at the sink; Carmela is in the shower behind him, singing along with her mental Furio Fantasy Dance Mix. Still feeling playful, Tony grabs a glass of cold water and tosses it into the shower to douse his wife. She responds by shrieking, then taking an excessively long time to wrap herself in a towel that she has IN THE SHOWER with her, just so we won't see her naked boobies. And while some people have said that this was intended to be yet another example of show's madonna/whore complex, I personally think it has more to do with the Established Emmy-Winner/Washed-Up Sitcom Star complex myself. Anyway, Carmela is furious, and reminds Tony that he did the same exact thing on their honeymoon, where she made him promise never to do it again. And instead of gleefully reminiscing about their younger, happier days together, she further insists that "this is one promise [she'd] like [him] to keep." Stung by her anger, Tony musters up a hurt-sounding, "Whatever," then leaves Carmela alone with her guilt in the bathroom.

Here's a sight I bet you never thought you'd see: Paulie in the high school principal's office. Although he does seem pretty comfortable, so I guess it's a safe bet he's been there before. He's actually there to visit Cookie's son Chucky, whom he refers to as a "pizza-faced son of a son of a gun." Yeah. I don't know what that means either. They head back into Chucky's office, where Paulie offers him a gift of luggage. Yes, that's right. Luggage. And it's not even good luggage. It's one of those cheesy, fake-Samsonite overnight bags. Chucky is reluctant to accept, but Paulie insists. After some awkward silence, a plug for Lasik eye surgery, and a reminder that Paulie is proud of the fact that he never made it past the ninth grade, we finally get down to business. It seems that all is not well at Green Grove, and Mama Walnuts has been feeling like a bit of an outsider. "There seems to be an exclusion," explains Paulie. "I don't blame your mother. I blame that Minnie Matrone. She's a malignant cunt." Bwa! "All I'm trying to do is pay my ma back for when I was a kid and got in so much trouble," continues Paulie. "For all the bad I did, and I'm still capable if I don't watch myself, she always had my back." Realizing the implicit threat, Chucky wisely offers to do whatever he can, and Paulie leaves with a smile.

Chez Soprano. Carmela is doing laundry when she comes across Valentina's glitter-encrusted nail in the folds of Tony's shirt. It doesn't take her long to grasp what this development means, and she angrily throws the shirt across the room. Great acting from Edie Falco here, by the way.

Meanwhile, Tony is out to dinner with yet another mistress. This time it's the leggy blonde with the volcano fascination he was with when Artie tried to kill himself. Only instead of babbling about tectonic plates and the Ring of Fire, she's instead switched to the subject of etymology, so as to better educate us on the origin of the phrase "mind your Ps and Qs." Damn. The only thing sexier than a girl who knows lots of useless trivia is a six-foot-tall blonde Icelandic lesbian stewardess who knows lots of useless trivia. It's like fetish porn for Jeopardy fans. Tony notices Christopher and Silvio talking over at the bar, and excuses himself to go join them just as Patsy Peesy gets deeply philosophical by asking Alexis Trebekjavik, "So there's an origin for everything, huh?" Heh. At the bar, Tony, Silvio, and Christopher discuss a business deal that we don't really care about, just as a way to demonstrate that the whole "speaking only through subordinates" thing isn't really working out the way Tony had planned. "I'm trying to free myself up to do a little global thinking," he explains, without further explaining that by "global thinking" he means "boning foreign flight attendants." They head back to the table, and we quickly realize that everyone there is with a mistress, instead of their wives. Except, oddly enough, for Christopher, who is apparently there alone. And you all thought he was a bad guy for using that "damaged goods" line. Because there's apparently only one restaurant in all of New Jersey that isn't Vesuvio, Joey shows up there as well, with Valentina in tow. He introduces her to everyone, prompting Christopher to giggle when he realizes that she's the one who "pulled that horseshit stunt."

Mere seconds later, Tony jumps up to "go make a call," and Valentina follows him into the back room. She tosses the diamond horseshoe back in his face, and seems quite jealous of Miss Trebekjavik. "What, does she fuck you better than me?" she spits. "Does she suck your dick better than me?" Well, all righty then. I guess this is where I make the obligatory Head of the Class joke. Tony is amused by her brazenness, and pulls her farther into the back room to explain that he has "rules," and doesn't want to get caught screwing around with another guy's girlfriend. "Look, that day in the countryside, that wasit was great," he says. "I just don't want to be where [Joey Pants] has been." Well, really, who would? Valentina tries to explain that Tony doesn't need to worry about that, because she and Joey don't have sex. "I swear to God, he's some kind of freak or something," she tells him, but Tony isn't interested. He sends her back to the table, and then emerges himself a few minutes later.

Meanwhile, Carmela is home alone, reading The Mists of Avalon. Perhaps sensing that the book won't be any better than the TV movie, she throws it across the room and jumps out of bed. With a look of angry determination, she stomps outside in her robe and begins pounding on the storage bin where Tony hides his cash. She's not able to get the lock open, so she grabs a nearby shovel and tries to pry it off with that. Alas, nothing works, and she gives the thing one last tug in frustration.

Ways You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Television -- #4: You actually watched The Mists of Avalon.

Cut to the Bing's back room, where Tony is working when he gets a call on his cell phone. It's Valentina, and he's not happy to be hearing from her. She finally convinces him to listen for a moment, and then proceeds to tell him one of the most horrifying tales I've ever heard. And since I took a lot of flak for skimming over the details the last time we dealt with the perversions of Joey Pants, this time you get to experience the entire thing in its fully transcribed glory: "[Joey] does not have sex like other people," she says. "It's all some kind of kinky shit. And believe me, I am not hung up. I've done a lot. I've done girls, I've done threesomes. [Joey] is loco, for real. He just makes me do stuff, not really even sexual. Like last night. I just wanted him to fuck me, just so I could get back at you. But all he wanted me to do was drip candle wax on his balls. Then he went to the bathroom and jerked himself off. Now I don't call that having sex with someone. Last week, I swear to God, he told me to rub his dick raw with a cheese grater." There. Are you happy now? Because God knows I'm not. Thankfully, Silvio and Patsty show up, and Tony is forced to end the call. He turns to Silvio and asks, "Do you think [Joey] is a little weird about women?" "I don't know, Ton'," replies Silvio, in what I'm just sick enough to consider the funniest line of the night. "I mean, he did beat one to death just for, uhI forgot. What was it again?" Hee! I'm telling you, there's nothing funnier than meaningless violence.

Melfi's office. I'm a bit more confident that you'll remember who Melfi is this week, so I'll dispense with the explanation. The good doctor is explaining that Tony probably feels guilty for "cuckolding" Joey, but Tony doesn't know what cuckolding means. And besides, he points out, Valentina is Joey's goomar, not his wife. "And thus has no status whatsoever?" inquires Melfi. "Goomars have status," replies Tony. "I mean, it's not like the old days, when a man had a wife, and then sort of a second wife. Used to be that men would take out their wives on Fridays, and their goomars on Saturdays. Or maybe it was the other way around." Hee! Instead of pointing out that she's already been through all this with Ray Liotta, Melfi just shrugs and says, "Sounds like a complicated arrangement." She also tells Tony that their time is up, but Tony says he just has one more question. He explains about Joey's predilections, and Melfi describes the guy as "a textbook masochist." "Like many other things," she continues, "we believe it's rooted in childhood." Tony still can't understand how that works, because, as he puts it, "I received regular beatings when I was a kid, but I'm not going around looking for some woman to hook up jumper cables to my private parts." He should be, though. It's more fun than it sounds like. Melfi explains that Joey probably had a "controlling and punishing mother," who "loved him, but showed it only in connection with some sort of violent and abusive act." "Is everything about everybody really about their mother?" wonders Tony, which simultaneously allows him to give voice to everything both Freud and David Chase have ever thought, while also giving Lorraine Bracco the opportunity to redeem her entire season with the sly, affirmative shrug she gives in response. Incidentally, I also like her new hairdo. I just thought you should know. Refusing to let the subject die, Tony has to ask one last question: "A guy like thathe could technically not have penisary contact with her valvo?" Bwah! "Penisary contact with her valvo." Now that's a keeper. And also an explanation for why the gangbangers were driving a Volvo last week.

Joss Whedon: Please. Mothers shmothers. Everyone knows it's Dad that's bad.
David Chase: You've obviously never met my mother.
Joss Whedon: Hey, what do you think would happen if we ever mixed your mom with my dad? I'm thinking we could, like, clone an unstoppable evil army and take over the world or something.
David Chase: I don't know. That's like pure, concentrated evil we'd be dealing with. I'm not sure we should go there.
Joss Whedon: Why not?
David Chase: My mother and your father? We'd probably get a guy determined to address the weightier issues of the human condition, but failing miserably because of his obsession with trying to work in clever dialogue.
Joss Whedon: In other words, Aaron Sorkin.
David Chase: Yep.
Joss Whedon: Yeah, you're right. That's too evil even for me.

At a rest stop somewhere, Tony picks up a pay phone to call Christopher. Once again, the kid is sleeping in broad daylight. Before Tony can deliver all his instructions, however, he gets a call from Valentina on his cell phone. Although he's reluctant to deal with her at first, he finally breaks down and agrees to meet up with her later in the day. Then he sets a meet with Christopher, and slams down the phone.

Cut to the high school, where Little Paulie and Vinnie Delpino chase Principal Chucky through the hallways. Now I know Sars laughed at me the last time I suggested that one of these guys call the cops, and I do admit this was a pretty funny scene, but I still have a hard time believing that anyone could chase a principal through his own school like that and get away with it. There's like five hundred witnesses in every shot, and at least one of those kids has got to be angling for a spot on the honor roll. Oh, well.

Tony is drinking a Diet Coke at the bar where he agreed to meet Valentina, and he's got the bottle conspicuously turned just enough so that he's not product placing the logo. Yeah, that'll help. She finally runs in behind him, and apologizes for being late. Then she confesses that she and Joey just broke up, because he came into the bedroom the night wearing a leather mask. Ew. I need to go wash my brain out. "This means we can be together," she says, stroking his arm. Tony claims to be a "happily married man," and very gently tries to explain that a relationship just isn't going to happen. "Why not?" she asks. "Well, for one thing," replies Tony, "I already took his horse." I'm not sure why, but this particular reason seems to be the only one that really angers Valentina, because she hauls off and slaps him before running out of the restaurant. Oh, Tony, Tony, Tony. Don't you think you might want to be a little bit nicer to the girl, especially considering that you know just how loose her lips really are?

Ways You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Television -- #6: You think everything is a product placement, right down to the barely visible label on Tony's shirt.

Yeah. For the record, I'm really sorry if that last line sounded dirtier than I intended, especially after the "valvo" bit earlier in the recap. You know what I meant, though, right?

Anyway, now we go to Carmela, who is counting out cash at her local bank. She's investing precisely $9,900, and the broker is nice enough to inform her that he's required to tell the IRS about any transaction of $10,000 or more. "Oh, really?" wonders Carmela, before opening her notebook to reveal that she's made four other identical deposits. "I want it in something safe," she adds. "Something old economy." Because I love you people, and because I'm an inveterate researcher at heart, I did some checking with my friendly neighborhood bank compliance officer, and she assures me that anyone making obviously creative deposits like that would get reported almost immediately. I was even going to quote the relevant sections of the Bank Secrecy Act for you, but the kids in the forums beat me to the joke. Just know that I cared enough to wade through several subsections of governmental legalese for you. And also watch to see if David Chase has been doing any wading himself.

Okay, now here's what I don't understand. Tony is wandering aimlessly around the mall again, and that's the second time this episode. And no matter how many times I watch, I can't seem to find an explanation for what he's doing there. Is he ditching the FBI? Buying gifts for Valentina? Foreshadowing his death by Muzak? Seriously, does anyone know what's up with this? Email me if you do.

And then, because the mall just isn't depressing enough, Tony goes to visit Janice. She's at home, making a "World's Greatest Dad" T-shirt for Bobby, complete with iron-on pictures of his kids. Quite frankly, I'm surprised Janice even knows how to work an iron, but I suppose Joey could have taught her in the throes of a particularly kinky session. Speaking of which, Tony is actually there to question her on that very subject. "I mean, is he weird about sex?" he wonders. Janice wants to know why Tony cares, which prompts him to explain that the Mafia, much like the army, has to maintain rules about this sort thing "on account of being in combat." Of course, wouldn't that mean that Tony wouldn't be allowed to ask, and Janice wouldn't be allowed to tell? Best to not think too much about it, I guess. Janice pretends to have morals and integrity for a few seconds, and then, with no prompting at all, she simply says, "Three thousand dollars." Heh. This must have been one hell of a family when these two were growing up. Tony agrees to pay, and Janice fulfills her end of the deal by telling him that Joey "bottoms from the top." "I don't even know what means," replies Tony. Ahh, but I do. Janice goes on to provide some additional detail, but my automatic internal censors kicked in after I heard the word "strap-on." When I woke up, she was telling Tony that Joey had no interest whatsoever in regular sex.

So, of course, we cut to Tony and Valentina having regular sex. Well, it's not completely regular. In fact, her head seems to be just below the bottom of the frame, so it's looking like I might have blown my wad a little too early with that Head of the Class joke. Yeah. I know. I'm very, very sorry. She finally clambers up beside him and rubs her fingers through his chest hair while she asks what made him change his mind and call her. "I just had to get my head into a place where I felt that I could really commit," he says, before promising to lavish all the care on her that she deserves.

Unfortunately, however, that's a promise he may not be able to keep. Tony visits the storage bin, and is more than a little shocked when he discovers that the money is missing. Uh oh. Looks like someone won't be getting any more diamond horseshoes for a while.

Green Grove. Cookie meets with Principal Chucky and his wife, and Chucky is sporting a major cast on his right arm. Chucky's wife is sporting a major chip on her own shoulder, and she basically threatens Cookie with life in a Salvation Army home if she's not nicer to Mama Walnuts. Oh, please. There is no way in hell I believe that these people would just give in to Paulie like this. I mean, I get where they were going with the whole "everyone is just like their mother" bit, but this plot was just way too far-fetched. Not even seeing Vinnie Delpino again was enough to make it worthwhile.

Ways You Know You've Been Watching Too Much Television -- #7: You use phrases like "Not even seeing Vinnie Delpino again was enough to make it worthwhile."

And finally, we're back at Das Sopranohaus. Tony is getting dressed in the bedroom when he finds Valentina's broken nail placed ever-so-carefully on the nightstand. Putting two and two together, he races downstairs, where he finds Carmela quietly reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. Unsure of how to handle the situation, he stands there silently until she offers to make some coffee. He accepts, but when she also asks if anything is bothering him, he claims that everything is fine. It's a tribute to both actors that, even with the most mundane dialogue, they're able to keep the tension cranked to such a high level. Not even the arrival of AJ can calm things down, as Tony quickly tries to find out if he might have been the one responsible for the theft. "Have you been out in the backyard the last couple of days?" he asks. "It's freezing out there," answers AJ. And then the weekly "Is AJ Smart Or Not" pendulum swings back to "smart" as the kid realizes what's going on and hightails it out of there. Carmela returns to her seat at the table, and as her husband stands there, staring knowingly at her back, she turns around to ask, "Are you sure there's not something you want to talk about?" "No," replies Tony. And yet another episode ends the same way, with the senior Sopranos sharing a sullen silence as we segue to the credits and a subtextually relevant song selection.

Joss Whedon: Hey, you know what would make this show better?
David Chase: Less plot development?
Joss Whedon: Well, yeah, but I was going to say cows. And also singing demons.
David Chase: Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna take advice from a guy who willingly put his flagship show on the UPN.
Joss Whedon: Hey, check the forums, buddy. I get more posts in my meet market threads than you do in your entire General Gabbery.
David Chase: What. Ever.
Joss Whedon: Asshole.
David Chase: Space hooker.
Joss Whedon: Mama's boy.
David Chase: Get out. Now.