Previously on The Sopranos:
Junior: Can I have some ice cream?
Melfi: You loomed!
Furio: [Sniffle]
Foreshadowing: Tony's going to die! Did you hear me? Did you? I said HE'S GOING TO DIE!
Previously, in the recaps:
David Chase: I'd like to introduce you all to our new mole.
Daniel: Oh, the shame!
Sars: You're fired.
Foreshadowing: This is gonna end badly. Trust me.
Woke up this morning, and got myself a Pop Tart. Mmmmm, Pop Tarts. And now I'm ready to recap! Let's see how far I can get before the Steeler game starts, shall we?
The dream is always the same. Or, at the very least, always at the same point in the season. Yep, that's right, people. It's time for the fourth annual pre-season-finale hallucination episode. This time it's brought to you by the fine people at Outback Steakhouse, America Online (a division of AOL Time Warner Inc.), and Chef Boy-R-Dee's new Chicken Vindaloo In A Box meal, available at fine convenience stores everywhere. We fade up on a silver crucifix, complete with rosary beads, as if to provide us with ample warning that this week's imagery will be religious rather than Rolling Stones-based. We then cut to the back of Joey Pants's hairless head, which is not only re-attached to his body, but also has a large blue caterpillar creeping along its skin. I should point out now that all this is occurring in a vintage, fifties-era Cadillac, as we cruise down an empty Midwestern highway. Joey leans over from the passenger seat to fiddle with the radio, and finally comes to rest on a station when we hear a man announce, "And now the news." This is rapidly followed by the sounds of gunshots and screaming, as a siren wails in the background. Tony sits in the backseat of this bizarre car, and his impassive expression is broken only when Gloria Trillo speaks up from the seat beside him. "Want to take it for a test drive?" she asks, as Carmela looks back from the driver's seat. And then, as if to indicate the ever-accelerating passage of time in Tony's life, the caterpillar becomes a moth, Gloria becomes a smiling Svetlana, and Carmela's hair switches from the old-school style to her new shorter 'do. And with that, Tony jerks awake in bed, rubbing the sweat from his forehead.
Ahh, the dream sequence. In lesser hands it can be a tool of evil. Here, it's…well, who knows? I'm not going to spend too much time interpreting these dreams, mostly because it's already been done to death in the forums. We've discussed whether the fact that Carmela is driving means that she's the to die, whether the Death's Head Moth on Joey's dead head means that he'll be starring in the Silence of the Lambs sequel, and we've even cited chapter and verse in Milton's Paradise Lost in an attempt to bridge the gap between the socio-religious and literary allusions we've been presented with this season. So if you're searching for meaning, check the forums. If you're interested in what Melfi has to say, stick around, because it's possible you might not be getting too many more chances to hear her.
Melfi's office. The awkward silence is punctuated by Tony's rhythmic heavy breathing, which has been almost as constant a presence this season as Foreshadowing himself. Hell, after he cut off Joey's hand, I half-expected him to turn to the corpse and say, "Johnny Sack never told you what happened to your father, did he? Well, guess what? I am your father!" Now that would have been a plot twist. Instead, however, he turns to Melfi to get an analysis of his latest dream. After recapping the whole thing for her (and leaving out several crucial details, which is why Tony doesn't work for TWoP), he adds, "I don't know where we were going…no place. We never seemed to get anywhere. Kind of like this therapy." Or the Carmela/Furio plotline, for that matter. Melfi takes this backhanded insult in stride, and asks what Tony thinks the dream means. "Can't you just tell me what the fuckin' thing means?" he responds. "I mean, you obviously know." Melfi professes ignorance, saying that she's not the one who had the dream, then prods Tony about the fact that the Cadillac reminded him of his father's old car. "With my wife driving," adds Tony. "Which if my father were alive, he wouldn't have stood for for two fucking seconds." Heh. We have that same rule in my family, but only because my mom is the only person on this Earth who could actually get lost in her own driveway. Seriously. She's got like four hundred maps and a GPS in the car, and it still doesn't help. Tony expounds on his father's patriarchal driving policies by suggesting that wives should be forced to "ride in a little cart behind the car. Like in the cartoons." Or Afghanistan. Melfi is appalled by this idea, and Tony, perhaps also seeking to pre-empt my descent into politically-themed humor, rapidly tries to justify himself. "It's a fucking joke," he sighs. "Does it have to be like a cancer hospital in here?" Well, that sort of depends on how many jokes I can cram into this paragraph, I suppose, and since I haven't had much luck so far, I guess the answer would have to be yes.
Melfi proceeds to deliver some psychobabble which indicates that the dream means Tony wants to square things with Carmela, and she reminds him that Freud once said that dreams are wishes. Hmm. I always thought it was Cinderella who said that. Anyway, Tony isn't interested in her wishy-washy analysis, and starts complaining that therapy has been nothing but a big waste of time for him. "Now, what about impulse control," he wonders. "I've been sitting in this chair for four fucking years and still nothing's been done about that, and it leads me to make mistakes in my work." Well, at least he's acknowledging that mistakes were made, right? I mean, that's progress, isn't it? Tony, however, isn't finished. "With the money I been dropping in here, I could have bought a fucking Ferrari," he spits. "At least I would have gotten a blowjob out of that." "What do you mean?" asks Melfi, failing to understand that Tony is actually being openly bitter about the fact that she herself has never gone down on him. Ahh, Tony. Where's Brenda when you need her? "I think you're glossing over the significant accomplishments we've made in here," protests Melfi. Tony's response to that is an instant classic: "Oh, my mother would come when she looked at a pot roast!" he mocks. "Oh, you're second in the birthing order! Oh, Carmela was driving the car! How fucking interesting!" Heh. Melfi reminds him that he was clinically depressed and suffering from debilitating panic attacks when they first met, and now both of those have been resolved. Tony, knowing an over-long scene when he sees one, brings things to a close by asking for a time-out.
Which the Ironic Segue Fairy promptly uses as a transition into the scene, where Bobby's daughter is playing baseball. He reminds her that she's just getting over a cold, and sends her to the car to fetch a jacket. Once there, she finds a cake with a message on it that reads, "To my Doll-Face. Always, Bobby." Ew. I'm not sure which is a creepier thought -- that the cake is meant for his dead wife, or that it could be meant for Janice. Thankfully, we get a quick answer on that, as we cut to Bobby, burying the cake at Karen's grave. It's still pretty creepy, though.
New York. Tony is meeting with Carmine and Johnny Sack, and Carmine is demanding a forty percent stake in the HUD scams that Tony has been pulling. "We share [Boon]," explains Carmine. "Therefore any of the fruits of [Boon], we're entitled to." Wow. I wonder if that applies to Irina as well? Or the opportunity to administer a good belting? Tony, however, doesn't like to share, and he refuses to pay them anything. Then they ask where Joey is, to which Tony replies, "I don't know. Maybe you can tell me." He fixes them with a knowing smile, and then walks out of the restaurant. "About what we expected," mutters Carmine, who doesn't seem to be all that worked up about Joey's disappearance.
It's dinnertime at the Baccalieri residence, which means it's time to indulge in that erstwhile family tradition of product-placing this week's big advertising spender. As mentioned above, Outback Steakhouse gets the honors this time around, and the first ten lines of this scene do nothing but praise everything from their food selection to their stock's P & E ratios. Good God, man! Why not just put in some real commercials and be done with it? It's not like you're fooling anybody, and it might even distract people from the fact that this episode was only forty-four minutes long. Not that I'm complaining about that, mind you. Bobby excuses himself from the table to go lie down, presumably because he's just as disgusted with all the crass commercialism as I am. Janice pauses to product-place some more, and then follows him upstairs, where she finds him lying in a darkened bedroom. When she asks about the cake, Bobby confesses to burying it at Karen's grave, because it was their anniversary, and he missed talking to her. He also reveals that he's been visiting the grave every single day, which Janice is not happy about. Much to my delight, she takes out some of her frustrations on Outback Steakhouse, mostly by bitching that their side dishes are ridiculously overpriced. Then, in pure Parvati fashion, she gives Bobby a big pep-talk about how "grieving is a process," and "courage isn't always a value." Um, okay. Remember that later, when she decides to change strategies.
Back in New York, Johnny and Carmine have moved out to front room of their little social club. Tony calls from his car to counter-offer their demand of forty percent with a proposal to share a mere five and a half percent. Damn. That's quite a drop. On the other hand, I imagine the advertising director for Outback Steakhouse placed a very similar call to Chris Albrecht after hearing Janice's comment on their pricing policies. Anyway, Carmine feels that's too low, and Johnny informs Tony that his offer is "unacceptable." Then he hangs up on him, which is also similar to what Chris Albrecht does whenever I try to call him. Carmine decides to try a different tactic, and asks for the name of the guy Tony uses to do the phony housing appraisals. "Vic the Appraiser, they call him," replies Johnny. Wow. Nothing like applying a little creativity to your mob name, huh? Of course, according to this, my mob name is "Aaron the Bastard." Aww. Mom will be so proud. (Fun recapper's note: I've actually been sitting on that joke since I found out I would be recapping this show. This is the first chance I've ever had to use it.) Carmine calls over Random Thug #1, and orders him to pay a little visit to Vic the Appraiser and apprise him of the fact that the he'll now be working for Johnny and Carmine.
Back at the Baccalieris', Bobby Jr. is curled up in bed, dreaming of sugarplums and blooming onions. His little sister Sophia comes in, and wakes him up to ask why Daddy would have bought a cake for their dead mother. It's an eminently reasonable question, but if my sister had ever pulled a stunt like that, she'd have been picking pieces of Barbie out of her backside for a week. Even then, I valued my sleep. Anyway, Bobby Jr. assures his sister that ghosts aren't real, and that even if Mom were haunting them, she would only be doing it for their own good. Sophia doesn't seem all that relieved by this information, but she does slowly return to her own bedroom. Bobby Jr. thinks for a minute, and then decides to pull the covers up over his head, just in case. If Calvin and Hobbes have taught us anything, it's that monsters and ghosts can only grab you if something is hanging out from under the blanket.
The day, Johnny and Paulie go for a little walk along one of New Jersey's more scenic garbage-strewn alleyways. Johnny continues his masterful job of manipulating his dumber, hairier friend, and even goes so far as to suggest that if the HUD thing gets really out of hand, "there could be a change." Paulie is shocked to hear that Tony is treading on such thin ice, and maintains that all he's trying to accomplish by meeting with Johnny is to "bring good relations between the families." Oh, yeah. Paulie is all about the diplomatic altruism. thing you know, he'll be offering hair-care tips to Kofi Annan. Johnny reminds him to keep their conversations secret, and once again suggests that Carmine won't forget about him. Oh, please. Carmine can't even remember something as simple as "Vic the Appraiser," and besides, we all know Johnny has never mentioned Paulie to his boss. Paulie wraps things up with a casual mention that he could potentially be the boss, and we cut to a two-shot just in time to catch Johnny rolling his eyes. Heh.
Junior's Joint. Tony wanders in to find Branca sitting at the kitchen table. She informs him that Junior is off shaving, and gives him a highly skeptical look when he tries to come up with an innocent reason for asking after Svetlana. Hee! Why are all the Russians on this show so cool? Junior comes in before Tony can fumble around for another excuse, and pointedly asks Burse Bratched if she offered anything to drink to his nephew. "I am registered nurse," she replies. "Not maid." "Well, did you offer him an aspirin?" Junior snaps back. Heh. He turns to walk into the living room, muttering "cunt" under his breath as he goes. Tony follows him, wondering why Junior is so worked up. "It's this fucking competency hearing," explains Junior. "Delayed twice, and now it's coming up on Friday. I don't know whether to chill the champagne or shit my pants." Heh again. Score two for Uncle Junior! Although I'm not really sure why he couldn't just do both, seeing as how I've spent more New Year's Eves than I care to count doing precisely that. But maybe that was too much information. Tony leans over and is alarmed to discover that Junior still has some shaving cream left on his neck, as if that's somehow supposed to indicate the onset of senility. Okay, first of all, there's way more shaving cream there in the close-up than there was in the long shot, and besides, what guy hasn't done that once or twice in his life? I once spent half a day at work with a huge white glob of toothpaste drying on my chin. I'm not sure what to make of the fact that none of my co-workers bothered to tell me about it. Of course, knowing them, they probably just assumed that I spent the morning giving a blowjob to a guy in a Ferrari. Now that was definitely too much information. Tony helps his uncle wipe the cream away, and Junior blames the whole thing on Bobby Bacala, because he installed crappy light bulbs in the upstairs bathroom. Tony then sets up a future plot-point by mentioning that they've discovered where the jurors meet every day before heading to the courthouse, just in case the "insanity" thing doesn't work out.
And speaking of the "insanity" thing, here's Janice, pouring out her troubles to Carmela in the Chez Soprano kitchen. In addition to her sporty new hair-cut, Carmela also seems to be wearing some more flattering clothes these days. Or maybe they're just trying to use her breasts to distract us from the fact that it's highly unlikely these two would be gossip buddies. Either way, Janice complains that things between her and Bobby are "stuck at platonic," and that she's afraid of being "perceived as a harpy coming between him and his dead, idealized wife." Hmm. Is that anything like a dead, gay son? AJ appears, and Carmela reminds him that the Baccalieris are coming over for dinner on Sunday, and she wants him to help entertain the kids. "Bobby Jr.?" snots AJ. "The kid's like eleven!" I have way too many annoying younger cousins to not to feel at least a little sympathy for the guy, but that all gets thrown out the window when he compounds his snottiness by adding, "When am I supposed to study? Or I guess you don't care about that!" Oy. Excuse me for a moment while I modify my "Shut up, Meadow" macro to say "Shut up, [appropriate Soprano sibling]."
On a quiet suburban street somewhere, Vic the Appraiser is, well, appraising. Suddenly, Random Thug #1 and his non-SAG-card-holding associate Random Thug #2 run up and start kicking the crap out of Vic while screaming that he hasn't been returning Carmine's phone calls. "But…but I'm only the appraiser!" wails Vic the Appraiser as they steal his walkman and toss it onto a nearby rooftop. "Now let me appraise [sic] you of this," says RT #1, before explaining that Vic should be ready to start working for Carmine at nine the morning. Then RT #2 vents his frustration at not getting any lines by kicking Vic down a nearby slope before both Random Thugs walk away. Props to the director, by the way, for framing that shot with Vic's headphones dangling from the roof.
Wing Chun: Yo! What's the problem, here? You don't return my e-mails? What are you, too good for us Canadians? Is that it?
Aaron: No! I just…
Wing Chun: Listen, asshole. You work for me now, understand?
Aaron: But…but, I'm only the recapper!
Wing Chun: Glark, kick his ass.
Aaron: [Scuffle. Scuffle. Thump.] Ow! Hey, no fair using strudy tubes!
Wing Chun: First thing Monday morning, you report to my office. I got back episodes of Providence, Picket Fences, and Crossing Jordan just waiting for you. And I ain't having any of this 8:59 on Sunday shit either, you understand?
Aaron: Nooooooo!!!
Glark: [Thump.]
Oh, and I know it's unseemly to beg, but can someone who clicked on that "strudy tube" link please please please please please please make like a monster bid? Not only will you be getting my precious autograph (estimated value: fourteen cents Canadian), but you'll also be saving me from the shame and ridicule I'm likely to endure from other recappers if we finish lower than Big Brother. And thus ends my own shameless product-placement.
Here's some happy news: It looks like Wide Guy's promotion to acting capo is holding. He's reporting in to Tony, Silvio, and Paulie about the appraiser situation, and Tony is taking it somewhat better than expected. "It's a bluff," he explains, before adding that New York doesn't want to start a competing operation, and would rather just piggyback on New Jersey's. Speaking of which, would anyone care to hazard a guess at the symbolism of the mural behind Tony, which features a horde of young piglets scrambling for their mother's nipples? There's just so many places you could go with that, and quite frankly, all of them scare me. Paulie wants to settle things with violence, but Tony gets a smug grin on his face as he declares that he's not going to "go ballistic." Then Thin Guy pulls up outside and starts laying on his horn. "You tell him to stop beeping that fucking horn or I'm gonna shove it up his fucking ass!" shouts Tony. There's the impulse control we've come to know and love. Wide Guy and Paulie get up to depart, and Tony takes this opportunity to ask Silvio if he's spoken with Beansie Gaeta down in Miami recently. Paulie, who stopped to wash his hands on the way out, lingers just long enough to hear Tony wonder if Beansie ever runs into Carmine's son down there. Once Paulie is gone, Tony suggests setting up a meet, so that they can get Carmine's son to talk to his old man. Silvio agrees to work on it.
Das Sopranohaus. Everyone (including the Baccalieris, Janice, and Carmela's parents) is gathered around the table as Carm brings out a huge tray of asparagus. "No cactus for me," says AJ, and once again I'm a little too sympathetic on the subject to mock him. "You're not Italian if you don't like asparagus," responds Papa Carmela. "So, what?" answers AJ. "Mike Piazza eats nothing but artichokes? I mean, that's dicked up." Sigh. Shut up, [appropriate Soprano sibling]. Although I will give the writer some credit on the assumption that the "dicked up" thing was a subtle reference to the whole "Mika Piazza is gay" controversy we were forced to endure last year. AJ goes on to spout some racially insensitive theories about his eating habits, and it's left to Bobby to actually criticize him for it. Heh. Tony and Carmela are the worst parents ever. The doorbell rings, and AJ hops up to answer it while Bobby Jr. takes his turn to mouth off to Janice. At least that's for a worthy cause. AJ returns from the front door with Devin in tow, and he introduces her in a quick scene that oddly echoes Adriana's introduction of Agent Lola. Put that in your conspiracy theory pipe and smoke it.
Later, everyone is gathered in the "great room" as Papa Carmela regales us all with yet another hideously boring tale. This time he informs us that he saw Connie Francis buying recessed lighting in a store. Since the punchline to his story doesn't involve a Rolling Stones pun, I'll just skip it and regale you all with the story of the time Matt Damon asked me for directions. No, really. He did. Of course, that's pretty much the entire story, so I'll just be moving on. Tony is visibly relieved when the ringing of his cell phone provides an escape, and he hops up to take the call in the room. It's Beansie, and he's looking quite stylish with his helmet hair and Mo Green-like massage positioning. Beansie reports that they have a meeting set for Tuesday night in Florida, and Tony thanks him before hanging up.
Meanwhile, Carmela finds Bobby Jr. and Sophia sitting in the living room, watching TV. Despite the fact that they seem perfectly happy, she insists on leading them upstairs to AJ's room. She swings open AJ's door just in time to catch him and Devin frantically trying to separate from one another. Heh. "Is this how you treat your guests?" she asks. "My guests?" he replies. "You invited them!" Sing it with me, folks: Shut up, [appropriate Soprano sibling]. Carmela reminds him that they just lost their mother, which seems to me like an excellent reason to NOT leave them in the care of a budding sociopath and his mini-moll, but then again, what do I know? She demands that AJ help them find a game, and even suggests a few old standbys like Monopoly and Clue.
So, of course, we cut to the kids playing with a Ouija board. Oh, yeah. This is going to end well. AJ calls out to the spirit world, first asking, "Is Bobby Jr. gay?" That earns him a few giggles, but Sophia insists that they try it for real. She asks if the spirit knows her mother, and the board answers yes. When she goes on to ask if Mom is making new friends in heaven, Devin gets enough of a clue to suggest that maybe this isn't the best idea. I knew I liked that girl for a reason. We then get a weird, overly-dramatic zoom in on AJ as he suggests they try to contact the dead for real. Dun dun DUN!
Downstairs, Tony calls Silvio to tell him about the meeting in Miami. Silvio offers to go along, but Tony says he was thinking of taking Paulie instead. "Face time with you could be what he needs," muses Silvio. "He's been on the rag lately." Unfortunately, Tony dashes that idea by admitting that he changed his mind when he realized Paulie could be the one blabbing to New York. "We're talking about fucking Paulie here," says Silvio, to the everlasting gratitude of HBO's promo editor. Tony makes him promise to keep the Florida trip a secret, and also orders him to get Vic the Appraiser back to work as soon as possible.
Back upstairs, the séance is in full swing. The room is lit only by a single candle, and AJ instructs everyone to hold hands and keep their eyes closed. He chants some bullshit, and then tries to add to the effect by thumping on the table a bit. Sophia is buying this crap hook, line, and sinker, and seems to be really freaked out. AJ insists that he's the only one who can hear the spirit because he "the oldest, and closest to the afterlife." Oh, if only. After determining that the spirit's name is "Captain Jacobus," and that it's raining wherever he is, AJ bends over, grabs a sponge which conveniently happens to be both still wet and lying on his bedroom floor, and squeezes the contents out all over Bobby Jr.'s head. Mass pandemonium ensues, with the table getting knocked over and the candle blown out. Everyone fumbles around in the darkness for a moment until Tony comes bursting through the bedroom door to flick on a light switch. And now I know why everyone has been speculating that he might have a heart attack this season, because the guy made it all the way up from downstairs in less than two seconds. That'd be enough to tax anyone's circulatory system. All the adults look on disapprovingly as Sophia explains what was going on, and Bobby Jr. cries that he wants to go home. "After what we just talked about, this is what you do?" asks Carmela with an angry tone. "I can't remember a time when I was more disappointed in you." Um, let's see. How about the time he got expelled from school? Or what about the ever-popular "So what, no fucking ziti now?" incident? Anyway, Tony sends Devin home, and Carmela apologizes to Bobby Sr. The best part, however, comes when Bobby Jr. punches AJ a few times and calls him an asshole. Hee! I rewound that like five times.
Once again, Vic the Appraiser is being chased by thugs. Only this time, one of them is Wide Guy. Run, Wide Guy, run! Heh. They finally corner him, and demand that he resume working for Tony. "I can't," he huffs. "Johnny and Carmine's guys hurt me!" Wide Guy belts him across the face (God, I love Wide Guy), and reminds him that Tony will hurt him worse. "Now go back inside, get your appraising shit, and start appraising!" he demands. Vic looks totally cowed.
Sars: What do you think, you can hide from me? I've got your W-2, buddy-boy. I know where you live!
Aaron: But…but Glark beat me up! And Wing said that I…
Sars: Who put you on HBO, huh? Who gave you the quality shows?
Aaron: But there's no commercials!
Sars: Oh, cry me a fuckin' river. You wanna trade shows with Daniel? Or how about Deborah?
Aaron: No! Not Sorkin! Anything but that!
Sars: Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Now go get your recapping shit and start recapping.
The mall. Surprisingly, Tony isn't wandering around aimlessly. Not surprisingly, the camera lingers over the Loews Cineplex sign in the background. Bobby and Janice are sharing a post-movie snack, and she passive-aggressives him into a conversation about visiting Karen's grave by pointing out that he has cemetery mud on his shoes. "Mud?" he wonders. "What are you, Marge Heggenbrinder now?" Hee! That's still not the best malapropism of the week, though. That one comes later. I have to say, though, that Bobby's habit of starting every. Single. Sentence. With the word "what" is really beginning to annoy me. Janice starts chewing him out for refusing to let go of Karen's death, and reminds him that his kids are playing with Ouija boards because they see him talking to her headstone. Personally, I think she's sort of got a point here, but then she has to go and ruin it by shrewishly pointing out that Karen is gone and "[she's] still here." "We have a nice evening," she continues, "and we end up talking about your dead wife." Um, aren't you the one that brought it up, Janice? Yeah. I thought so. Bobby shows just enough spine to tell her to "shut the fuck up," and Janice takes that as her cue to storm off.
Maison de Soprano. Tony is in his new screening room, proving just how white-bread he really is by listening to the Clapton version of "I Shot The Sheriff," rather than the clearly superior Bob Marley. And besides, shouldn't that really be Christopher's theme? Anyway, he gets a call from Svetlana on his cell phone, and his face lights up when he hears her voice. She's calling to thank him for the diamond horseshoe brooch he sent her, which is exactly the same as the one he sent to Valentina a few weeks back. But why a horseshoe for Svetlana? With Valentina it made sense, but don't you think a nice diamond hammer and sickle would have been more appropriate? Or maybe a nice TWoP forum banner, to advertise her web site. Personally, I'd have probably commissioned Lladro to make her a porcelain leg or something, which explains why my family is most likely cowering in terror right now at the prospect of the Chanukah presents I just mailed them. Tony insists that she keep the gift, and she makes it clear that she has no intention of giving up the fancy (and highly valuable) diamonds. "What happened between us," she begins. "It was nice." But then it starts going downhill. "These things happen, and then life goes on," she continues. Tony tries to suggest that she call him if she ever wants to get together, but she thanks him one last time and quickly hangs up. Tony looks lost.
Cut to Melfi's office, where she's wearing a skirt that shows even more leg than normal. That's probably significant, considering that they had her in pants earlier in the episode, but it also makes it seem like she knew in advance how this particular session was going to go down, which seems unlikely. Anyway, Tony is claiming that he just broke up with a new mistress, and that he felt really bad about breaking her heart. He says that it was just a brief fling, and that after a while, he felt like he "had to cut off the leg. Not leg, affair. Did I say leg?" Hee! Now that's a Freudian slip. And also probably why Melfi's skirt is so short. He explains about the brooch, and describes it as something he sends to every girl when he's "easing out the door." Well, yeah, but he didn't send one to Irina. Or Gloria. Or the blonde lesbian Icelandic trivia freak, for that matter. Anyway, he thinks for a moment, and then finally comes clean and admits that it was Svetlana who dumped him instead of the other way around. "You know why she didn't want to see me anymore?" he asks. "She said that I was 'high-maintenance.' And this is after all the time, and all the money, and all the fucking Prozac, and all the fucking cocksucking motherfucking dream interpretations. And she said she didn't want to prop me up? And this from a broad who walks around on crutches half the time. Nice, huh?" Whew. You know, I'm not sure why, but I really get a kick out of being the only recapper who routinely gets to transcribe things like "fucking cocksucking motherfucking dream interpretations." It's just fun for me somehow.
Melfi asks if he's still interested in trying to change his behavior, and Tony sadly admits that he isn't. He starts ranting about how therapy isn't helping anymore, and that even though it did provide him with some "leadership strategies" in the beginning, he's no longer getting anything out of it. He repeats Svetlana's line about only Americans expecting to be happy, and then points out that they're trying to achieve that happiness by spending "six or seven bucks a minute" on psychiatry. "Should that be a source of shame?" inquires Melfi, handily side-stepping the fact that it's a source of profit for her. "That when the desperate struggle for food and shelter is finally behind us we can turn out attention to other sources of pain and truth?" "Pain and truth?" snarks Tony. "Come on. I'm a fat fucking crook from New Jersey." I so want that on a T-shirt. And I don't even like New Jersey. Melfi continues to insist that he can really begin to improve now that the panic attacks have been taken care of, but Tony isn't interested. "I'm sorry," he sighs. "I don't wanna do this anymore. And you can say that I'm running away, but I've been here longer than I ever thought I'd stay." Then he asks for a cookie as a reward. Well, not exactly, but he does complain that he never gets any appreciation for it. Um, for what, exactly? For sitting in a chair and whining every week? For looming? Cry me a fuckin' river, Tony. He stands to leave, and then turns around to thank her one last time before he goes. She begs him to come to his appointment, but Tony insists that she'll be able to cover his $300 a week in no time. He apologizes for that crack, and then gets sincere. "Look, you saved my life in the beginning," he says. "And for all the times I came on like an asshole, I'm very sorry." She reminds him that he has her number, and then they awkwardly try to decide how to end the relationship. "What's customary here?" asks Tony. "Do we shake hands? How about a diamond pin?" Melfi extends her hand, but Tony instead leans in to give her a very tender kiss on the cheek. He lets his hand linger on her face, just as he did with Svetlana, but when she fails to respond with anything more than a blank stare, he sighs and walks out the door. Once she's alone, Melfi stands there looking bereft for a moment, and then sits down at her desk to call Dr. Bogdanovich. She gets his machine, and leaves an oddly depressed-sounding message: "Guess who's no longer a patient of mine?" she asks. Getting no answer (as often happens when you're dealing with voicemail), she adds, "Calling all cars!" StTM = 1,864.
Sars: You know what? I don't want to do this anymore. I've put up with you longer than I ever thought I could, and I get no appreciation for it.
Aaron: What?!? Why? Is it that thing with Wing? Or did I say "fuck" too many times?
Sars: It's just not helpful anymore. And besides, if anyone could see me editing these recaps, they'd know just how high-maintenance you really are.
Aaron: Does this mean I'm fired?
Sars: I'm afraid so.
Aaron: Damn. So, uh, what's customary here? Do we shake hands? Do I get to kiss you?
Sars: No. And sit down. You're looming.
Aaron: Sorry.
Night. Janice sits down in front of her [Guess The Manufacturer] laptop, and calls up her [Guess The Synergistic Internet Service Provider] to send Bobby Jr. an instant message. You know, if all those rumors about how much Gerald Levin and Steve Case hated each other are true, I've got to wonder why HBO goes to such constant lengths to plug their unwanted stepsister of a corporation. I'm secretly hoping it's only because they hate Verizon just as much as I do, and that's enough to overcome the ill will they feel towards each other. Anyway, Janice uses her anonymous screen name of "Vlad666" (which I believe is still available here at TWoP, so register fast!) to tell Bobby Jr. to check out a cabinet in his living room. Hey! Bobby Jr. is playing Max Payne! I love that game. Of course, what's really funny is that he's not actually playing, and is instead just banging on the keys while the game's intro movie plays. Heh. You'd think David Chase would know by now that he can't slip shit like that by me. Bobby replies to the IM by asking who "Vlad666" is, and Janice's cryptic response is "Rising damp." Yeah. I don't know what it means either. She gets up to watch through her binoculars, and then we see Bobby Jr. and Sophia opening the cabinet to find a Ouija board of their very own.
How come Microsoft can correctly spell check "cocksucker," but not "Ouija"?
Miami. Tony drives out of the airport as a DJ screams frantically in Spanish on the car radio. Aww. It's just like Vice City! Which is my new favorite game, now that this show has ruined Max Payne for me forever. we see Tony walking through a parking lot, where he notices a van unloading in the handicap spot. It's Beansie, and he's got two hot girls helping him get around in his wheelchair. Damn! Now I want Richie to beat me up, too!
Back in New Jersey, Uncle Junior is attending his competency hearing. I'll treat this plotline with the same amount respect the writers do this week, and just tell you that his motion was denied. Junior is going to trial.
Later, Janice is sitting at home smoking a joint when the phone rings. It's Bobby, and Janice calmly claims to have just been doing some housework. Heh. We don't hear Bobby's side of the conversation, but Janice acts shocked, and quickly runs over to his house. Once she's there, Bobby explains that the kids found the Ouija board, and have been freaked out about it all night long. "I had to read to Sophia for like an hour. She couldn't even handle the Nancy Drew. It was too mysterious!" Heh. And that's coming from someone who owns a complete set of the original Hardy Boys, in hardcover no less. Damn you, Parker Stevenson, for ruining my childhood! Janice shakes her head and looks all concerned until Bobby finally prompts her to say what's on her mind. "The dead have nothing to say to us, Bobby," she tells him. "It's our own narcissism that makes us think they even care." Damn! Now that's a Six Feet Under slam if I've ever heard one! Methinks someone is a little jealous about getting their Emmy nomination record broken. Perhaps that someone should have gotten off his ass and turned out some episodes last year. I'm just saying. She promises him that things will get better with time, and then offers to cook dinner. Which seems rather un-Janice-like at first, but her master plan quickly becomes clear. She opens the freezer, and pulls out Karen's final ziti. They consider it silently for a moment, but then Bobby finally gives a tiny nod. Should we be happy that he's moving on, or frightened about who he's doing it with?
Miami. Tony, Beansie, Carmine's son, and three bimbettes are eating dinner in a restaurant. Bimbo #1 (no relation to Random Thug #1) is telling a story about how she got fired from Disneyworld when Beansie interrupts to announce that Tony and Little Carmine have important things to discuss. He leads the girls away, and several other patrons turn to stare at the ridiculously skimpy outfit one of them is wearing. Once the girls are gone, Tony and Little Carmine get down to business. LC seems to be fully informed about what's been going on up north, and he appreciates the respect Tony is showing him by reaching out. "I know my old man can be a tough nut to crack," he says. "I don't want to crack nuts," replies Tony. "But I will." Little Carmine tries to blame the whole thing on Johnny Sack, but Tony is reluctant to go there, so Carmine decides to try an anecdote: "I am reminded of Louis the…whatever's finance minister," he pontificates. "Duh-something. He built a chateau. Nicole and I saw it when we went to Paris. It even outshone Versailles, where the king lived." To show how stupid he's supposed to be, Little Carmine pronounces it "Ver-sales." Little does he know that half the cities in America have a town named Versailles that's pronounced exactly that way, including, of course, Pittsburgh. I've also got a boss named DuBois, who loudly and repeatedly insists that it be pronounced "Duboyz." Sigh. Little Carmine wraps up his story by announcing that the king had his minister "clapped in irons." And if you thought he was dumb, what does it say about Tony that he doesn't even know what "clapped in irons" means? Little Carmine promises to speak with his dad, and as Tony expresses his gratitude, I head for the IMDb to figure out where I've seen this actor before. Hmm. Let's see. The guy's name is Ray Abruzzo, and in a twenty-year career that's spawned a mere seven entries on his page, Ray has played guys named Anthony Giuliano, Anthony Gianelli, Johnny "Two Times," and now Little Carmine Lupertazzi. Hmm. I'm sensing a theme here. And don't think his stint as Detective Mike McGuire on The Practice is fooling anybody. Before they wrap things up, Tony confesses that he intends to inform Johnny about this conversation, so that John doesn't feel "blind-sighted" by the whole thing. Hee! Now that's the best malapropism of the week, and if it weren't for the closed-captioning, I never would have caught it.
We now get a quick cut back to Janice and Bobby, as they silently eat The Mythical Ziti Of Accepting Bereavement. Bobby looks pained. Janice looks bored.
And then we cut to a mysterious southern-gothic-looking home, where a single female leg is emerging from the backseat of a car. Before we can see whose leg it might be (Melfi? Svetlana?), we pan over to catch Joey Pants walking up to the house. There's noise from crickets and other animals overpowering the soundtrack, and after the brief glimpse of Joey, we see Tony striding up the same path. First he's in his normal clothing, but then suddenly he's dressed like it's the 1920s, complete with a tattered wife-beater and suspenders. As he heads towards the house, the camera adopts that Saving Private Ryan shaky-cam look, making the whole thing seem even more eerie than it already is (fun cinematographer's note: Before resorting to computers, Spielberg originally intended to achieve the shaky-cam look by duct-taping a power drill to the side of the camera.). Tony finally reaches the front door, and knocks a few times before peeking inside. The door, of course, makes the requisite creepy creak as it swings open. "Hello?" he calls, in an odd Italian accent. "I'm-a here for the-a masonry job." We see a woman, shrouded in shadows, coming down the inside steps, and Tony gazes up at her fearfully. Although (and perhaps because) we never actually see her face, I don't think there's any doubt this woman is supposed to be Livia. If you look closely, the hairstyle gives it away. "Me no speak-a de English," says Tony, as the mysterious figure continues to stand there silently. He slowly opens the door, and as the cameraman does yeomen's work with the diopter to keep Maybe-Livia just out of focus, we…
Cut to Tony, jerking awake in his hotel bed. He staggers to his feet and slowly makes his way into the bathroom, where he flicks on the heat lamp in the ceiling. Bathed in red light (the reasons for which will become apparent in a moment), he stares into the mirror and slowly catches his breath. Foreshadowing watchers should take note of the fact that he also clutches his chest a few times, which spelled doom for Joey earlier in the season. Finally he leaves the bathroom, and crosses to the balcony. He steps outside into the blinding sunlight, and gazes at the beautiful beach scene below. And as the Beach Boys slowly fade up on the soundtrack, we fade to black.
By the way, get what they did there? The red light of hell, and the beautiful beaches of heaven? Which is in store for Tony, you ask? Well, you've got two more episodes to find out!
Aaron: Oh, I get it. That was just a dream when you fired me, right?
Sars: Nope. I'll recap this fucking show myself if I have to. I've done it before.
Aaron: Do I at least get a diamond brooch?
Sars: Get out. Now.