Rat Pack

It is a dark and stormy night. Suddenly, the damp and aromatic gloom of the suburban New Jersey wastelands is punctured by the pale glow of the tungsten headlights on a nondescript, late-model American sedan. Contrary to popular urban legend, no slightly-scratched metallic hook can be seen hanging from its door handle, and contrary to this recapper's all too frequently unrequited hopes, no nubile teen cheerleader can be found inside, anxious to bare her breasts and surrender her virginity before falling victim to a rabid dog or a guy with spikes on his fingers or even just some dude named Bob. Instead we get Special Agent RICO Suave and his unnamed FBI accomplice, watching through the rain as a dark, mysterious figure in a hooded jacket carries a bulky item (wrapped in plastic!) into a random diner. For the record, said dark, mysterious figure doesn't appear to have a hook, either.

Inside the diner, Tony is waiting, and he greets our mysterious figure by identifying him as one "Black" Jack Masserone. Mr. Masserone is not, in fact, black, nor is he made of aces and face cards, so one can only assume that this is a clever (if mildly offensive) reference to the events which transpired when first we met the man. A flushed Mr. "Black" Jack then goes straight to using his dead man's hand to unwrap the plastic around the kingly gift he's brought for Tony, thereby revealing a cheesy painting of Frank, Dean, and Sammy that will eventually flop into a river because of his decision to turn. Whoops. Sorry. I'm betting out of order here. For now, all you need to know is that Tony loves the painting, even though he's not normally a fan of "modern art." Jack then joins Tony in the booth, and much pointless chit-chat is exchanged. "You know, we're finally going to cut the ribbon for the museum on the 22nd," reveals Jack, while pointing out the "Museum Of Science and Trucking" hat he's got perched so high up on his head that it actually looks like you could fit Trump's hair under there. Yeah, that's not suspicious or anything. It's also a bit of a shame that they couldn't see fit to name the place the "Museum of Industry, Science, and Trucking," because if there's one thing I've learned from recapping HBO, it's that you can never have too many jokes about things that are damp and aromatic.

Getting down to serious business, Jack wants to know if he and Tony will be working together on some new project involving a bus station in Newark. Oy. The only thing I'd want to do with a bus station in Newark is run very, very far away from it. And then maybe throw a hand grenade. It seems Jack is worried because Zellman hasn't contacted him about any new bids, and he wants to Tony to check in with everyone's favorite whipping boy to see what's going on. "Uh, we don't talk much," replies Tony. Heh. You know, at the time, I thought Tony's attack on Boon was a perfect example of him letting his emotions get in the way of running the business, but now it turns out that his little spanking tantrum may have been the only thing that prevented him from making some very incriminating statements during this conversation. Go figure. Tony suggests that Jack relax and take off his hat, but Jack sheepishly answers that he's just started using Rogaine, so he can't. Aw. Now there's a man after my own hairline. I'm so telling people that I'm a snitch from now on whenever they try to get me to take my hat off. Eventually, the topic of conversation shifts to their mothers, with Masserone wishing aloud that his dead mother could have seen the trucking museum, even though he knows "exactly where she is, and it's pretty fucking hot." Hmm. She's in Barbados? Tony, of course, is instantly sympathetic to anyone with Jewi...er, "overbearing" mother issues, and I honestly think that's a big part of why he's initially so reluctant to order a hit on Black Jack later on in the show.

Outside, meanwhile, RICO Suave and hus FBI friend get cruised by a suspicious cop, who also takes a moment to run their license plate. That'll be important later. Then we cut back inside just in time to hear Masserone make a joke comparing the pain of childbirth to a prostate exam. I'm not even going to touch that one. Figuratively or literally. Tony stares at the painting he's been given, and then ends the scene by sighing, "The Rat Pack."

Elsewhere in the rain, Adriana is meeting with Agent Not Mare, who is desperately in need of a new nickname at this point. Post 'em if you got 'em. The Feds are interested in someone named Joey Cogo, whom I don't believe we've ever seen before. I have, however, purchased many a fine tobacco product at one his convenience stores. (That joke is funnier if you live in Pittsburgh, by the way.) Adriana admits to having seen the mysterious Mr. Cogo earlier in the week, and then a different agent hands over an autopsy photo of what we can only assume is this selfsame Joey, beaten to bloody and deformed pulp. Ooh! Now there's a good idea for a spinoff. Adriana also confirms that another unnamed individual (who we don't get to see) was present, and Not Mare's colleague bolts out of the car, runs through the rain, gets into a completely different nondescript late-model American sedan, and speeds away into the night. You know, because the FBI obviously doesn't believe in cell phones. Or walkie-talkies. Or flu prevention. Seriously. What the hell was that all about? Even Adriana is shocked, gasping, "Jesus! Because of what I said?"

FBI headquarters. Or at least I'm assuming it's FBI headquarters, because there are a lot of FBI agents there. It is, however, a completely different set from the last time we were here. In one of the back rooms, Ray Curto is meeting with Agent RICO Suave to help transcribe some of the dialogue he recorded while wearing a wire. Yes, you read that right. After two full seasons of nothing, they've finally addressed Ray the Rat. Halle-fucking-lujah! And I'm totally taking that as a shout-out, because I've bitched about Ray like no one else on this Earth, and also because HE'S TRANSCRIBING FUCKING DIALOGUE. I mean, come on! That's what I do, right? The dialogue in question comes from Tony's famous capo conference in the Season 4 premiere. Much to my utter dismay, however, they don't play the tape long enough to hear Silvio deliver his all-time classic line naming the only two recession-proof industries: "Certain aspects of show business, and our thing." Hee! They do, however, take great pains to make sure they correctly transcribe "crack fucking heads" instead of "crack fucking legs." I can't even count how many times I've made that mistake.

In another office, Agent Not Nicknamed At The Moment and Agent L-O-L-A-Lola watch footage from a surveillance camera that they've had surreptitiously mounted outside the Crazy Horse. In what I'm taking as yet another shout-out to my incessant bitching, Agent Still Not Nicknamed Yet goes out of her way to point out Paulie's magically reappearing car arriving in the parking lot. Interestingly, there's a line here in the closed captioning that must have gotten edited out, because Agent Lola is supposed to say something about a Chevy with Rhode Island plates. I seriously hope that means we'll be seeing the Atwell Boys again, but somehow I doubt it. Heck, I'm surprised we even saw Agent Lola again, considering that she ran off with Joey Pants to go work undercover in a different field office. I guess they must have figured that recasting with Fairuza Balk would be too confusing.

In yet another room in this vast warren of truth, justice, and skinny, coffee-stained neckties, that boss agent that I always incorrectly think is played by Sydney Pollack is meeting with a few of his colleagues to listen to the take from Masserone's hat wire. Hmm. Do you think "hat wire" is the official technical term for those? In any event, the US Attorney, who is also present, seems much more concerned with investigating the jury tampering that occurred in Uncle Junior's trial last season. Oh, God. Please, no. That was the most boring sub-plot ever, and if David Chase actually thinks listening to the whole damn thing again like a televised book-on-tape is going liven things up, then we've got a serious problem here. Mr. Attorney, however, is convinced that it won't matter how many tapes they have on Tony if he can just subvert the jury whenever they bring him to trial. He orders Not Sydney and RICO Suave to start investigating the jurors, and I find it extremely odd that a show that loves to wallow in irony and the idea that no man is a saint would ever allow an FBI agent to say, with complete and utter sincerity, "You know we don't like to dig into some citizen." Uh huh. Whatever. Does David Chase have some sort of federal indictment he's trying to get out from under? Did he maybe get a parking ticket at the Smithsonian, or something? Because that line is just the first of many blowjobs the FBI will be receiving tonight (no word on whether they're being given by tiny hookers from Newark, however), and it just seemed totally out of place. And also really badly dubbed, but that's a different story. Once the attorney is gone, Agent Not Sydney helpfully exposits that losing the Junior trial cost the guy a six-figure salary in private practice, so he's not going to let the matter drop until he wins. Or bores everyone to death trying.

Junior's Joint. Tony arrives, and a thankfully fully-clothed Feech refers to him as "John Barrymore," for some reason. Once again, I'm not exactly sure what that means, but just for shits and giggles, I'm going to pretend that it has something to do with this. And if it does, I'm formally begging right now to have it put on the Season 5 DVDs. Or the VHS tapes. You know, whatever they decide to go with. After greeting everyone, Tony sits down at the table with Uncle Junior. What's important about this moment is that there is very clearly NOT a bowl of salad in front of Junior. Keep that in mind. Feech delivers a lengthy explanation of why he's at Junior's place, which basically boils down to the fact that he found some dandelions in a local vacant lot, and dropped them off so that Junior could make a salad. Which, by the way, has now miraculously appeared on the table. Oops. Feech also displays a significant amount of foreshadow-y interest in Tony's soon-to-be paroled cousin Steve Buscemi, whom Tony variously describes as "smart" and "a great guy." Perhaps wisely, no one uses the word "fox" this week. Junior thinks Buscemi is a "fucking weirdo," which prompts Tony to joke that the vacant lot which gave up the dandelions also happens to be a popular watering hole (so to speak) where the local neighborhood dogs enjoy gathering for companionship, crotch sniffing, and leg lifting. He quickly assures a disgusted Junior that he was only joking, but even so, would YOU eat something that was growing a vacant lot in New Jersey? Although, to be perfectly honest, if there ever were a place where Twinkies could grow on trees, it'd definitely be the Garden State.

Tony announces that he's going to be setting Buscemi up with a career in the lucrative stolen-airbag industry, and invites Feech to join them at the welcome-home party. Having now consumed his recommended daily allowance of dandelion-flavored exposition, Feech takes off for parts unknown. Once he's gone, Tony leads us through an extraordinarily gratuitous and inappropriate Motorola product placement that may very well be the absolute nadir of this show's long descent into American Idol levels of pimpage. Or at least it will be until Meadow spills Snapple on her iBook week. Seriously, people. WE'VE ALREADY PAID TO WATCH THIS SHOW. Enough, already! Anyway, Junior pushes away the plate of magic dandelions and asks Bobby to fry him up an egg instead. And then he immediately forgets that he asked and repeats the exact same request. Ten seconds after that, he refers to Tony B. as "Tony Egg," and I think it's safe to say we all know what Junior's plot for this season will be. It's a shame, too, because he's always been at his funniest when he's sharp and a mere cunt hair away from being back in command. He does, however, remember the time Tony and Steve Buscemi took a camera into the bathroom during sister Barbara's confirmation. Hmm. More fuel for the Steve-is-gay fire? Or are you just surprised Patsy Peesy wasn't in on that action?

The phone rings at this point, preventing Uncle Junior from requesting yet another egg. Bobby steps over to answer it, and we soon hear him say, "Oh, that's terrible! Where's he going to be laid out?" Junior: "Who now, goddammit?" Hee! Bobby hangs up and reveals that our first casualty of the week is Carmine Lupertazzi, who has apparently finally succumbed to gherkin poisoning or liver spotomania or maybe just got run over by a trolley. Everyone is saddened by the news, especially Bobby, who moans, "He was a great man. My cousin told me it was Carmine who invented point shaving." "CCNY vs. Kentucky, 1951," replies Junior. "Nobody beat the spread. I bought a black Fleetwood." Heh. And HBO even gets to synergistically promote their documentary on the subject, so really, everyone wins. Except the people who bet on the game, of course. Bobby leaves the room, and Junior turns to Tony and emphatically re-confirms that he wants to be cremated and his ashes placed on the mantel, "surrounded by family." Tony assures his uncle that he's aware of this, and then Junior gives a little spiel which compares life to a game of Crack-the-Whip. Hmm. I always thought that if life were like a game, it would be...well, Life.

Carmine's funeral. We focus on his corpse for a moment, which is notable solely for the giant medallion and rosary clasped in his hands. But more on that later. Little Carmine stands by the casket and accepts condolences along with his clueless wife, while Johnny Sack and crew work the crowd on the other side of the room. If you're interested, Frank Vincent makes his first appearance here, and yeah, he looks exactly like you remember. In another corner, Tony is gathered with his own crew, and he announces that Steve Buscemi has finally been officially released. And not a moment too soon, either, because I was really starting to get tired of all the build-up. The gang is then joined by a woman who appears to be the very definition of the expression "built like a brick shithouse." She's big, but it suits her, and she's definitely working the cleavage. We never get her name, but it's established that she's a "lady shylock," and all the guys seem to respect her quite a bit. Especially Tony, who greets her with a big hug and few happy compliments. ["Maybe he still has a soft spot for her from when she played Rayanne's mom on My So-Called Life. Hi, Patti D'Arbanville!" -- Wing Chun] "I'm keeping it together with Pilates and gin," replies the woman I've decided to call "Lorraine" because I've read the spoiler thread and it's stupid to pretend that I haven't. I also watch Scrubs, by the way, which had an almost identical "Pilates and gin" joke in their own episode last week. What are the odds on that? Lorraine, by the way, is accompanied by some male-modelesque arm candy she chooses to describe as "the love of [her] life," and whom I choose to describe as looking exactly like a post-steroidal Derek Jeter. Assuming the man was ever pre-steroidal, of course. Aww. Now I actually kind of miss Sars. Sniff. ["Jeter, Jeter. The skinny guy from Evening Shade, right?" -- Wing Chun]

Over with the New York crew, Frank Vincent is telling jokes about Jesus on the cross, which strikes me as the sort of behavior that's appropriate just about anywhere, but especially at your boss's funeral. Johnny Sack disengages himself from the crowd of laughing wiseguys, and heads over to join Little Carmine by the coffin. Carmine Jr. already seems pretty miffed about something, and he leads Johnny over into a little alcove and immediately starts bitching him out over the Opus Dei medallion that we saw Carmine Sr. holding in his hand. Now, as some of you may know, I tend to quote the Bible a lot in these recaps, so it might surprise you to learn that my first thoughts on hearing the words "Opus Dei" involved penguins and Richard Dreyfuss. But that's just me. Anyway, all I know about Opus Dei is that expressing an opinion on it in this recap is likely to get me even more hate mail than usual, and also possibly a good whipping. So let's just move on, shall we? The argument between Johnny and Little Carmine escalates to the point where they're shouting, and everyone out in the main area can hear them. Johnny insists that he knows best what Carmine would have wanted, and adds that Little Carmine said himself that Johnny was "like a son" to the man. Little Carmine spits back that he was only being polite, and now I'm wondering if a son can just outright disown another son-by-proxy like that, without going through the father. Or the mother. Or West Virginia. Whatever. Oh, and by the way? The doctor was his mother!

Cut to Tony, sitting in his new home (more on that later) and watching Band of Brothers. Actually, it looks like what he's really watching is the companion documentary about the real soldiers that went along with the show, so I find it somewhat amusing that Tony apparently has access to a DVD player here, but Carmela can't seem to find the one hooked up to their giant entertainment center back at Das Sopranohaus. The clip he's watching is supposed to a be subtextually relevant one about a guy who sacrificed his own life to save a buddy. Except the story as it's told makes it sound like the guy didn't so much sacrifice himself as just randomly volunteer to walk straight into a bunch of explosions for no good reason. I know I praised the clip-pickers last week, but this time I think they were more interested in synergy than subtext, and it shows.

Meanwhile, at a club that isn't The Crazy Horse, Adriana and a friend are checking their makeup and chatting in the ladies' room. The friend is eventually revealed to be Adriana's presumed Maid of Honor, but I honestly can't remember if we've ever even seen her before. ["You have if you've been watching 24 this season; over there, she was variously known as Claudia, Clowdia, and The Poor Man's Angelina Jolie." -- Wing Chun] In case we haven't, I'll take time out to describe her as being EXACTLY Tony Soprano's type. By which I mean that she's got dark hair, no fashion sense, and a potty mouth that could make even Peter Krause blush. She's also wearing a fluffy white fur coat and bitching about her date. Who later turns out to be Little Paulie, which at least makes the bitching understandable, if not the coat. Adriana (who owns leopard-print wineglasses, lest we forget) gushes over the fur, which gives her friend an opportunity to deliver a whole bunch of incredibly awkward exposition about some invoice-related scam that she and her father are involved with. Yep, that's right. If you boys out there have ever wondered what chicks talk about in the ladies' room, it turns out it's the intricate accounting details and false-documentation procedures involved in executing a low-level white collar crime. Sexay! Anyway, the friend's dad didn't want her to buy the coat, but she did it anyway. "Sometimes you just gotta take care of yourself," says Adriana to her friend. Or possibly just to the writer who knew he needed to take care of this scene to set up the episode's finale.

Out in the club proper, Little Paulie has brought drinks for everyone. Ade gets white wine, the furry embezzler gets an Appletini, Little Paulie gets Seven-and-Seven, and Christopher gets "nothing and nothing." There's some gentle teasing about his newfound sobriety, and Chris agrees that "it's not for everyone." "Things are different when you don't have that crutch," he adds, lighting a cigarette. Heh. Adriana's friend (heretofore known as the "Hoor of Honor") slips out of her coat, and a brief argument with Christopher establishes that it's fox fur, and not mink. Continuing with our Dr. Seuss theme for the evening, Little Paulie observes that she's his "fox in a box." "Let's see her box," adds Chris. "Or maybe her socks." Oy. I liked Christopher better when he was still selling stocks. And then we continue with our shorn vagina theme for the season, as the Hoor of Honor announces that she has to "wear fur on the outside, on account of being bare everywhere else." Then she ends the scene by batting her eyelashes at Christopher. Except that if she really is bare everywhere else, wouldn't that mean that she doesn't even have eyelashes? Oy. I just gave myself a headache. And a scary mental image. Also, I think I owe someone a TM for "Hoor of Honor," so drop me an email if I do.

Back at home, Christopher whines about Adriana and her...well, wine. Or something like that. He's pissed that everyone else gets to drink and have fun when he can't. Adriana, however, is already getting suspicious about that look the Hoor of Honor gave him. Chris is shocked that she would be concerned on that front, because "that cunt's too full of herself." "'Cunt'?" answers an indignant Adriana. "She's my maid of honor!" "She's no fucking maid, let me tell you," replies Christopher. Hee!

And then it's FINALLY time for Steve Buscemi's big debut. Tony heads over to Aunt Quintana's house, and while I don't specifically remember this actress, she's absolutely perfect as Livia's sister. I suppose she must have been at Livia's funeral, but all I remember from that episode now is Ray Curto's wire and Chrissy's drug-fueled monologue about computers. Oh, and also the horrific Office Depot product placement, which just goes to show that no matter how much I bitch about it, that shit works. Auntie Q invites Tony in, and announces that Steve is downstairs putting on one of his old suits. And boy, is he ever. Tony wanders into the living room, and checks out the pictures hanging on the wall, including one of a young Nancy Marchand smoking a cigarette. Sexay! We also see one of "Kelly," and the accompanying exposition informs us that Steve had a wife and twin daughters who are "lost" to him now. Kelly, by the way, is shown as a punked-out anarchist type, and repeated side-by-side viewings of this scene and the "Pierced Girl" bit from Melfi's group therapy session last week have proven inconclusive at determining whether they're the same person. They're pretty close, though, and the therapy girl did get a speaking line specifically referencing "week," so even if she wasn't Kelly, David Chase certainly wants you to think that she might be. Auntie Q tells Tony that Steve plans to hire a detective to find her, and then Tony comes across a picture of him and Steve as babies, which leads him to make a penis-size joke that I think we all could have lived without.

And then it happens. Steve Buscemi comes around the corner in his suit, and I honestly fell out of my chair because I was laughing so hard. Why, do you ask? Well, just take a look for yourself. That's me at my Bar Mitzvah, and before you all rush off to the forums to mock me, I'd like to remind you of three very important facts: 1) I was thirteen, 2) It was 1986, and that shit was styling, and 3) I can ban your ass in a heartbeat. For those of you who didn't actually watch the episode, just know that my outfit is totally identical to what Steve was wearing, right down to the teal shirt and rolled-up sleeves. The only differences are the big, goofy digital watch and the horrifyingly oversized tinted glasses that I must have blocked out of my memory over the years. Tony is overjoyed to see his cousin, and they share a big hug. "God, Ton', look at us," gushes Steve. "Fifteen fucking years." And then, just because I needed still more shout-outs, Auntie Q mutters "Language!" as she shuffles past them. Heh. "Go on, say it. I haven't changed a bit, right?" kids Tony. Steve just stares at his gut and somewhat pointedly fails to reply. Remember that later. Aunt Quintana snaps a photograph, and we....

...flash cut to Tony, Steve, and Auntie Q arriving at Vesuvio for a big surprise party. Artie comes out to greet them, and God do I hate Artie. He does, however, get the best line of the night here by asking Steve, "Where's Tubbs?" while tubby Tony is standing right to them. Hee! There's some more here, including a recap of last season's Incredibly Annoying Artie Incident, but...well, did I mention that I hate Artie? Carmela comes over , and seems genuinely happy to see Steve. He asks her if "Nancy and the twins" have arrived yet, and Carmela is forced to deliver the worst excuse since the last time I was late turning in a recap (what? Dogs can eat computers. It's not that far-fetched) when she tells him that Nancy was too busy with her "aunt in Bayonne, with the sciatica." Steve shrugs this news off with a perfectly pitched "Whaddya gonna do?" that makes it seem like he's been a member of the cast since day one. up on the receiving line is Janice, who practically sprains something in her rush to introduce Steve to her "family." It soon becomes evident that Bobby Jr. inherited his brains from Daddy, because he pipes up to say that he's never even heard of Steve Buscemi. Which does sort of make sense, because the kid is too young to have seen Fargo, and Steve never worked with Quasimodo. After the Baccalieri clan, Meadow and AJ come over to join their parents, and Steve does seem to linger just a little too long over his hug with Meadow. That really jumped out at me on the first viewing, but with each subsequent time through the scene, it seems to be a little less of an issue. Don't forget the guy has spent the last fifteen years either in prison or his mother's basement, and (as long as her mouth is shut, at least) Meadow is definitely the hottest girl in the room. So who knows? Meadow asks after Kelly, but Tony heads off that line of inquiry by changing the subject to their weekly Thursday-night dinners. Um, Thursdays? Weren't we just thanking Janice for keeping the Sunday-night dinner tradition alive? Or have I somehow slipped into Stars Hollow? This segues into Tony's making a crack about his marital woes, and everyone just sort of stands there for a moment, marinating in the awkwardness. Steve excuses himself to go find "Uncle Zio" (geddit? Do you?), and the little group breaks up, leaving Tony and Carmela standing there by themselves. As always, Gandolfini and Falco are superb as they both do more with ten seconds of silence than the entire cast of Tru Calling has managed so far in an entire season.

Steve Buscemi orders a drink at the bar, and sighs with relief at finally being alone for a moment.

Later that evening, Tony is making a toast. He tells a long story about how he only has two sisters, and therefore "Cousin Tony" essentially became his brother. The problem, of course, was that there were about fifty different Tonys in the family at that time, so they had to be called by their fathers' names to tell them apart. There was "Tony Uncle Johnny" for Tony Soprano and "Tony Uncle Al" for Tony Blundetto. There was also a "Tony Uncle Philly," but he's dead now, and, for that matter, so is Uncle Philly. And on that happy note, Tony S. slings an arm around Steve Buscemi's shoulders and tells him just how happy he is to have him back. Aww, sniff. Everyone cheers, and then the scene is over.

Even later that evening, Tony and Steve are walking through the parking lot at the Bada-Bing. Steve is still going on about how great Meadow is, but it seems more like a lamentation about his own relationship with Kelly than an inappropriate interest in Tony's daughter. "I wasn't around," he concedes mournfully. "What can I expect?" He also adds that "if things had gone different way back when," who knows what might have happened. This freaks Tony out a bit, and he stops walking and somewhat angrily asks what Buscemi wants from him. "Nothing," replies Steve. "I'm just saying it's good it wasn't both of us." People on the forums seem to have interpreted that to mean that Steve took a fall for something Tony did, but I got the sense that they were equally involved, and only Steve got caught. This isn't Carnivale, though, so I'm sure we'll be finding out what really happened soon enough.

Inside, Stevie is barely watching the strippers. Now, is that more fuel for the "gay" fire or the "he wants Meadow" fire? He tells Paulie how weird it is that his cousin is now the big boss, and Paulie replies, "It's like Sun Tuzoo says, 'A good commander is benevolent and unconcerned with fame.'" Well, yeah. "Unconcerned with fame," sure. You're still gonna have to pay him a million bucks an episode, though. Buscemi looks confused at this response, and that confusion gets even worse when Paulie explains that "Sun Tuzoo" was the "Chinese Prince Matchabelli." Silvio can't take it anymore, and shouts out a correction, much to the amusement of Thin Guy, who stands in the background and scores his first screen time of the season. And speaking of people's first screen time, there's Hesh, up on the balcony with Tony. He doesn't get a line, though, so if you're scoring at home, that's no robe, no Hesh, extra Artie, and Meadow got to speak. I have no idea why I graded this episode as high as I did. Anyway, Feech shows up and offers Buscemi a wad of cash to get him started. Tony watches and seethes silently on the balcony as "Fred Astaire" starts his dance moves.

In the bathroom, Johnny Sack is sitting in a cement stall, shitting and smoking while Tony goes about his own business at a nearby urinal. Johnny asks about Zellman and the bus station, and now I'm wondering if he knows about Irina and the belt incident. Probably not, because I doubt Boon would have told him, and he'd be absolutely livid if he ever did find out. Both Johnny and Tony agree that they like Jack Masserone, and then Tony brings up the argument Johnny had with Little Carmine at the funeral. And that one definitely makes Mr. Sack livid, because he's pissed that Carmine Jr. is back after "five years in Florida fixing wet t-shirt contests." Hey, it's good work if you can get it. Tony sighs in sympathy, and heads back to the party. You know, the more I watch this scene, the more I think there's no way in hell that Johnny Sack as we know him would ever let his bare ass touch a toilet in a dump like the Bing. It's definitely a funny image though, so this time I'm willing to just live and let shit.

Outside, Steve is doing his Jackie Gleason impression for Hesh and a few others. Tony walks up just as he busts out with Reginald Van Gleason doing "Mmm, boy are you fat!" Tony totally thinks Steve is talking about him, and if you think about it, he probably is. He can't exactly admit that, though, so Steve plays it off as just an impression, and Tony finally joins in with the laughter. On the other hand, where the hell does Mr. Teal here get off criticizing anyone else's appearance?

Even later that evening (so much later, in fact, that the sun is already up), Tony and Steve are eating breakfast in a local diner. You know this scene is going to be important, by the way, because there's a bridge in the background. Tony offers to get Steve hooked up with some opportunities, but Mr. Buscemi isn't interested. He explains that he became an orderly in prison, not because it would help him get connected (which is what Tony thinks) or because he has a fascination with Klinger from M*A*S*H (which is what I thought), but because he really wanted to help people. "I really got into this shit," he explains. "Rehab block, we had guys with broken limbs, muscle diseases, missing eyeballs, ass tattoos, and glass in their stomachs. Hell, we even had a dude once with a hemi-penis!" He also reveals that he's already gotten his associate's degree, and he's only six months away from getting his "massage license." An understandably confused Tony thinks Steve wants to manage a massage parlor (also good work if you can get it, by the way), but Steve clarifies that he wants to become "a licensed massage therapist." Hee! Tony is still stuck on his airbag idea, but Steve insists that he just wants a good, clean, honest job to hold him over until he gets his license. Tony finally gives in, and promises to hook him up with a local Korean dry-cleaner who needs a driver for his van. He also promises to get Steve a driver's license through his contacts at the DMV. Well, that's...sweet, I guess. Steve certainly thinks so, and they share yet another big hug in front of the looming bridge.

Das Sopranohaus. It's movie night for the girls, and Carmela opens the doors to Tony's home theater to find AJ sprawled across one of the chairs. We see a brief, half-second clip of whatever AJ is watching, and it's killing me because I'm almost positive that I've seen it before, but I can't remember where. I hate that. She boots him out, and all the wives file in. The group consists of Carmela, Rosalie Aprile, Adriana, Janice Parvati-Soprano-Baccalieri, Mrs. Little Stevie, and a mystery woman whom only the end credits can identify as Mrs. Patsy Peesy. She doesn't really seem like the sort of woman who'd be into golden showers, so I guess that just goes to show that you can't judge a toilet by its pink satin seat cover. The women have decided to watch the AFI's Top 100 list in ascending order, so tonight's film will be Citizen Kane. Rosalie doesn't like the idea of watching something in black and white, but Carmela insists that a little culture will do them some good. And then she reads aloud from Leonard Maltin's review of the movie, and if ever there were a Lladro of film criticism, it would definitely be good old Lenny. Carmela does, however, have some trouble reading the review, noting that the screenplay was written by "Orson Welles and Herman...something." That's Herman Mankiewicz, for those of you who are too lazy to type "IMDb" into your browsers. And now I'm craving some Manischevitz, but that's a different story. I should also note at this point that the women have elected to get the film on VHS rather than DVD, which I don't buy for a second. Carmela is way too snobby for VHS, and we know for a fact that she owns at least one DVD. In fact, I myself own Citizen Kane on DVD (it was a gift from Sars, no less), so I have no idea why the prop guys couldn't find it. And while we're bitching about glaring continuity errors, I'd also like to mention that we see the women using a completely different remote control than the last time we were in here. And I know that for a fact because a friend of mine recently bought a new universal remote specifically because it was the same one Tony Soprano had. And for the record, that guy's wife also collects Lladros. Anyway, Carmela pops the tape into the VCR, and Adriana hits play on the (wrong) remote. And then the standard FBI warning appears in huge letters on the big screen, and all the women (especially Adriana) squirm uncomfortably for a loooooong moment. Hee hee! That totally makes up for all the mistakes. Heh.

Cut to the end of the film. Everyone gives their opinions as the lights come back on, and they're all perfectly suited to what you'd expect each character to say. Adriana thinks he should have told someone about Rosebud, Mrs. Little Stevie doesn't want to die alone, Carmela thinks Kane was a prick, and Rosalie thought he was conceited and had bizarre sexual fetishes. Well, that last part was only implied, but still, you get the point. Everyone did love the cinematography, though, even if most of them only just heard the word for the first time while reading Leonard Maltin. Mrs. Peesy changes the subject by gossiping about some woman and her breast implants, and that breaks the tension enough for everyone to get a little giggly. Rosalie asks Carmela how she's doing, and Carmela replies that she's met with a bunch of lawyers who think they'll be able to get half of Tony's money. Except, of course, for the fact that it's mostly "in cash" and probably all damp and aromatic now after being left in that duck food bin. All of the women except for Adriana lament the loss of romance in their marriage, Janice going so far as to observe that it's been six months, and "Bobby still hasn't found [her] rosebud." Okay, new rule: Janice isn't allowed to have sex anymore. She and Richie were disgusting, she and Joey were REALLY disgusting, and now I've got to imagine Bobby Baccala down there with a miner's lamp and a compass? Adriana, as the only unmarried woman in the room, chugs her wine and cries a single, solitary tear for her future. But don't worry. That tear will have lots of friends soon enough.

The day, Adriana meets with Agent Not Called Not Mare Anymore, who is not interested in Adriana's obvious depression. She's all business, asking about the guest lists at Carmine's funeral and Steve Buscemi's homecoming, but Adriana feels their relationship lacks the personal touch, and starts asking her handler if she's got any kids. Agent Not Needing A Backstory But Getting One Anyway explains that she was married to a fellow agent, who eventually dumped her for a big raise and a posting to Los Angeles. Whatever. It's probably a lie anyway. It's still not enough for Adriana, however, who feels that she can't talk to the FBI, her friends, or even Christopher anymore, and he's "supposed to be [her] soulmate." And there's that word again. "What do I get out of it?" she wonders, perhaps fishing to find out if the FBI has any kind of a fur coat reward program. "Maybe take some comfort in the fact that you're trying to do the right thing by helping your government," answers Agent Not Even Showing A Trace Of Irony. "No, seriously," answers Adriana. Heh. This launches Agent Not Interested In This Scene At All into another long story about her past, this one featuring an ex-boyfriend of her sister who sold guns to high-school kids, and also tried to open a coconut with a pistol and ended up paralyzing the sister. Oy. I really hope that one is a lie, because it's just too sappy otherwise. "I knew I had to do something about guys like him," continues Agent She Cannot Be Serious, "and nowhere but the FBI is the line clearer between the good guys and the bad guys." Uh huh. And when J. Edgar was in charge, how clear was the line between the good guys, the bad guys, and the guys who liked to wear pretty pink dresses?

Satriale's. Paulie, Silvio, and Wide Guy are playing cards in the back room, which gives me an opportunity to mention that I really can't enjoy those new "Why Can't We Be Friends?" HBO promos, because I'm probably one of the few people on the planet who knows exactly where each and every shot came from. Like when Christopher is playing cards with David, Keith, and Brother Justin, and David's cards are actually a stack of napkins and Justin's cards are that stupid leather purse he was making in the insane asylum. They should have just stuck with the party-scene one. Anyway, Steve Buscemi shows up, and he's carrying his massage table. He props it up against the wall, and asks to be dealt into the game. Paulie teases him about not having the money play, which prompts Steve to look at Paulie's hair and ask if he needs to let it dry before putting on a second coat. Then he calls him "Grandpa Munster," which isn't quite as good as Christopher's crack about the "wings," but is still pretty close. Everyone is laughing and having a good time, and then Silvio asks about the massage table.

Cut to Wide Guy, face down on the table, getting a massage from Steve. Heh. "It's like my back is on vacation," he moans. "I had no idea I was so tense," adds Paulie. Hee! We did. Tony shows up at this point, and he's definitely not happy to see his cousin rubbing his hands all over another man. And they certainly do play up the homoeroticism in this scene, what with Buscemi announcing that "there's nothing like being in the joint to teach you how to ease another man's tensions." "Jesus Christ," bitches Tony. "I'm gone for one hour, and all of a sudden it turns into a fucking slumber party." Wow. I would love to be at that party. We could braid Silvio's hair, and make Best Friend Forever pinkie rings, and maybe even prank-call the FBI a few times. Too bad the Little Lord is dead, because he'd be perfect for the old hand-in-a-bucket- of-warm-water trick. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," observes Steve, as he practically mounts Wide Guy and orders him to squeal like a pig. That's the last straw as far as Tony is concerned, and he asks Stevie to join him outside for a private conversation.

Out in the parking lot, Tony immediately starts shouting. "It's none of your fucking business which side of the bed I wake up on," Tony snarls. And it occurs to me that in Tony's mind, he probably took that as a reference to Carmela's not being in the bed anymore. Steve claims that it was just an expression, but Tony gets right in his face and calls him on all the joking and teasing and "boy, are you fat" stuff. "You're crowding me," whispers Buscemi, with just enough menace in his voice to remind us that he did fifteen years in jail for setting car bombs. "And you don't make fun of me," replies Tony. "Got it?" "Got it," answers Steve. And then because he's Tony, he has to go one step too far (and because it's Gandolfini, we can actually see that he knows he's going one step too far, but still can't stop) by saying, "And knock off the massage shit. This is a place of business, not a Jack LaLanne." So it's totally okay to shoot people in there -- just don't give them rubdowns. Steve takes a moment to think about how his relationship with Tony has changed, and then he leans against the wall, looking pissed.

Crazy Horse. Adriana is counting up the cash in the register while the Hoor of Honor watches from across the bar. The Hoor makes another reference to her fur-earning bookkeeping scam, so we'll remember it later, and then Christopher comes over to borrow some change for the cigarette machine, because he's been "sliding this stupid bill in and out of the machine for, like, an hour." "An hour?" asks the Hoor. "I bet you could go longer than that." Classay! "Why do you always talk like a hoor?" asks Christopher. "Because men like it," she replies. Tip for the ladies: she's right. Her and Christopher flirt a little more blatantly this time, and Adriana watches with a dour expression from less than three feet away. No one ever said the guy was smart, right?

Bada-Bing backroom. Tony is telling Silvio how much he's enjoying the single life because he can now stay out all night and fuck anyone he wants. Except Melfi, of course. Or Carmela, for that matter. "Yeah, so what's the difference?" wonders Silvio. And actually, the only difference is that he can't fuck Carmela anymore. Suddenly, Patsy Peesy bursts in and reports that the cop we saw running the FBI's plates in the opening scene is one of his gambling customers. So now Tony knows that the meeting was under surveillance. "They always do that," he says. "But I know it wasn't me they tailed that night, because my whole life is in the fucking rear-view." Which probably explains why he's had so many accidents. He figures out that it must have been Masserone the Feds were watching, and realizes that he'd be royally fucked if Black Jack turned. Silvio reminds him that there hasn't been any grand jury testimony yet, because they would have heard about it, and Christopher does what he does best by offering to "take care" of the problem. "We don't know shit yet," counsels Tony. "He did give me that fucking painting, though." "There is that," agrees Silvio, ever the font of wisdom. Tony decides that he needs to be absolutely sure Masserone is a rat before they take any action. Silvio offers to set up a sit-down, but Tony insists on doing it himself. "I know the guy. I know the way he thinks, the way he acts. My old man was very good at vibing people out, too. If Masserone's up to something, I'll pick it up." You know, the way he picked up on Carmela and Furio, right?

And while, yes, that is sort of a ham-handed segue, it's no less ham-handed than the actual edit that inspired it, because we suddenly cut to the now empty interior of the Das Sopranohaus entertainment center, with Carmela discovering that Tony has taken all the components. Um, okay.

Another random diner. Masserone is waiting for Tony, with yet another M.O.S.T. hat on his head. Just as Tony pulls up, however, he gets a call from Carmela on his cell phone. She chews him out for stealing the components, and he claims that he bought the system so that they could watch movies as a family, and not for her to entertain her girlfriends. You'd think he'd just be happy she's not entertaining boyfriends in there, but I think we all know that'll never happen anyway. Oh sure, Carmela will find someone to flirt with again this year, but just like Father Rin Tin Tin, and Joe Perry, and Furio, it'll never actually go anywhere. But I digress. And Carmela is hanging up, so let's get back to the action, shall we?

Tony climbs out of his car and greets Masserone with a big, giant bear hug. He also not-so-subtly feels the guy up for a wire. Oh, yeah. Those are some great vibing skills he's got there. Surprisingly, Masserone does not demand to be bought dinner before letting Tony get to second base. Instead he just asks him if he's lost some weight lately. That will soon prove to be the dumbest thing he's ever done in his entire life, and let's not forget that this is man who built a museum dedicated to "Science and Trucking." Tony claims that he talked to Zellman about the bus station, only he refers to the man as their "friend who celebrates Chanukah." I think Tony may be confusing the eight candles with eight lashes, but that's neither here nor there. I also think it's interesting, although most likely coincidental, that during the only incriminating line Tony utters in this scene, there's a car horn honking in the background. It's probably too much to assume he's got Christopher or someone out there trying to create interference, but I suppose it is a possibility. Tony asks Jack if he's been followed, or if he's noticed anything strange lately, and then tries feeling him up yet again. Jack insists that he's been very careful, but does admit that he "doesn't like what [he's] been hearing." Tony smiles, and taps him on the brim of the hat, which causes Jack to recoil slightly. "Relax," Tony insists. "It's not worth losing your hair over." I keep telling myself the same exact thing about these recaps, and yet I still have to pour Drano into the shower once a month when HBO is in season.

Back at the Bing, Tony storms in and announces that he couldn't tell anything. "What am I, a fucking mind-reader?" he asks. No, but he you do tend to get a little handsy every now and then. Christopher wants to know what their move is, and Tony thinks for a moment before telling them how Masserone said he lost some weight. Both Christopher and Silvio remain silent upon hearing that, but you can totally read the word "bullshit" on both their faces. Heh. They're interrupted by a phone call, and Silvio reaches out to answer it. He quickly hands the phone over to Tony, telling him that it's the Korean dry-cleaner, and they're obviously pissed off about something. Tony takes the call, and it doesn't do his burgeoning fury any good when the Koreans ask for permission to fire Steve Buscemi. We never find out what he did wrong, but Tony does angrily give his consent. Christopher suggests that the newly unemployed Stevie could be the one to handle the Masserone hit, and that was precisely the wrong thing to say with Tony in one of his moods. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" shouts Tony. "The man is trying to go straight. Don't you give a fuck about your cousin?" And yeah, let's all take a moment to note the irony of Tony's suddenly supporting Steve's decision here, but I do think it comes from him genuinely wanting to see his cousin happy. Or maybe he's just pissed because the guy is thinner than he is. Who knows? Tony gives Silvio a look, and announces that Masserone is "fucking useless" to him. Which, as we know, is as close as Tony ever comes to directly ordering a hit. He leaves, and Christopher is still confused about whether that was a yes or a no. "Tony's...got his own process," answers Silvio. "What's to process here?" wonders Chris. Heh.

Maison de Soprano. It's movie night minus the movies, which basically just means that the ladies are sitting around getting drunk. Carmela promises to get the components back as soon as possible, even though everyone is happy that they don't have to sit through Casablanca again anyway. "What's on that list?" Carmela asks. "Number three," answers Janice. "The Godfather." Hee! Awkward silence ensues.

Outside, Adriana and Rosalie are sneaking a smoke break. They chat about the bear problems, and Adriana takes this opportunity to ask a question that there's no way she wouldn't have asked at least three years ago (or, at the very least, after her conversation with Agent Not Suspending My Disbelief At The Moment from last season): "So how come Angie Bonpensiero don't come to these things?" Sigh. And just when I thought I would never have to type "Bonpensiero" again, they pull me back in. Rosalie explains that Angie isn't welcome, because her husband was a rat. "What kind of person does that?" she adds, staring at precisely the kind of person who does that. "I mean, it's like Judas or something. Eating that last supper with Jesus, and the whole time he knows they're going to crucify him. I mean, at least Judas didn't go into any Apostle Protection Program." Insert your Passion joke here. I can't be bothered. It is, however, interesting to note that Adriana is the one who really knows the truth about Pussy (and Joey Pants, for that matter), whereas Rosalie, who is ordinarily the grand dame of the group, remains clueless. Willfully clueless, most likely, but clueless nevertheless. They head back inside.

Cut to Tony, who has taken up residence in Livia's old house. Oy. That's a whole episode with Melfi right there. He's very, very drunk at the moment, and rapidly getting drunker. He grabs the Rat Pack painting Masserone gave him, and props it up on the mantel for further study. In addition to his impressive slurring capabilities, James Gandolfini also plays drunk like a pro. If they ever make Arthur 3 (and if possible, I'd be willing to pay someone so that they don't), he'd be the perfect replacement for Dudley Moore.

Back to movie night. Carmela has reached the "I love you all soooooooo much" stage of drunkenness, but the big group lovefest (I guess you can't call it a circle jerk when they're all women) is interrupted when Adriana bursts into tears. "I'm not what you think," she sobs. "I need...I want to tell you all something. It's driving me crazy." Everyone is ready to listen, but Adriana takes one look at Rosalie's concerned face and realizes what she's doing. She gets up and runs out of the room, prompting all the other women to follow her out into the driveway, where she takes a major header right into the hedges. Heh. It's the oldest joke in the world, but people falling down will ALWAYS be funny. She staggers to her car, and manages to drive off without saying another word. And all the wives are left standing in the driveway, with expressions ranging from fear, to confusion, and all the up to anger. We should also, by the way, score one for the Misleading Promo department over at HBO, which made this shot of the wives out to have something to do with Tony attacking Carmela.

Tony, meanwhile, is still drunk. And still staring at the painting. He picks up his cell phone (I'll give you one guess what the brand is) and dials a number.

Cut to Auntie Q's basement, where we learn that Stevie's ring tone is "We Are The Champions." Hey, I'm just glad it's not "99 Luftballons." He's sleeping, because it's 3 in the morning, and he's more than a little bewildered as to why Tony is calling. Tony gently (and drunkenly) explains that Steve's boss at the dry-cleaner is not a happy camper. "I rub him the wrong way," explains Steve. "Then maybe you shouldn't be a masseuse," replies Tony. Rim-shot! Tony then segues into a non-apology apology, by telling Steve that it's okay for them to kid around, but not in front of the other guys, because Tony needs to maintain respect. Then he gives his cousin a quick lesson in communications discipline, because Steve accidentally refers to him as "the boss." Things settle down a bit after that, and they actually enjoy the sort of honest conversation you'd expect to childhood friends to have. Tony talks about his problems with Carmela, and Steve assures him that he's always available, whenever Tony needs to talk. Except for right now, that is, because Steve has to be up in two hours. Their friendship reaffirmed, both boys hang up feeling better.

Tony switches on the TV, but then decides to get ready for bed. He heads up to the bathroom and washes his face, and then pulls off his t-shirt to check out his gut. Damn. That's kind of scary. In fact, I'd almost rather be watching Janice have sex. And it can't be a coincidence that we've had significantly fewer women expressing their love for the guy in the forums this year. I wonder how Tony would do on Average Joe? In any event, he jiggles his fat rolls a bit, and looks pretty unhappy when he checks out his man-boobs in the mirror.

And now for the concluding montage portion of our program. First up is Tony's car, pulling over to the side of the road on a bridge somewhere. He rolls down the window, and we see Masserone's painting come flying out and go tumbling into the water below.

From there, we cut to the trunk of a car parked near the airport, where the FBI is photographing Masserone's corpse. His hands are bound, and he's been shot in the forehead, and he's also got what looks like a golf club cover stuffed in his mouth. I know that's the international symbol for a rat, but still. A golf club cover? I guess it's just because he had the clubs right there in the trunk. Christopher must be getting lazy. It's the five iron, by the way, if you care.

After that, we see Ray Curto, bitching to his handler that he needs more money to pay for Interferon to treat his son's MS. Now see? The Continuity Fairy may hibernate like bear, but she does come on strong when you finally wake her up.

And then, at long last, we finish the episode with Adriana and Agent Not Quite Finished Yet sitting in a car, talking about who might have taken over Joey Pants's various enterprises. Adriana is sullen and uncooperative, but then she suddenly decides to offer up a story about a girl who's been ripping off her employer for more than a hundred thousand dollars. The girl, of course, is the Hoor of Honor (and we finally get a name -- Tina Francesco), and it looks like she won't be able to flirt with Christopher for very much longer. And they're gonna love the shaved look in prison, I'm sure. Agent Not Really Interested But Acting Polite Anyway writes the name down in her notebook, and Adriana takes a long drag on her cigarette as she finally comes to terms with being a rat. Fink...ahh.