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I never get tired of this show's opening credits. In the approximately twelve years since the last season, I kind of forgot about it. Lost's spooky minimalism is not without its charm, but the way Tony drives us into his world, with the song's tension and menace providing the soundtrack, sets up the mood for me. I never fast-forward. I am also enjoying the opportunity to recap a show that comes with a warning for violence, coarse language, and nudity. Because who doesn't like boobs? Oh, right. Well, we'll get to Vito soon enough.
A bathrobed Tony strolls out poolside, and gingerly eases into one of the deck chairs. Comfortably ensconced, he begins flipping through his copy of Yachting magazine (which, mental note, must renew subscription. Thanks for the reminder, show). Within seconds, though, he's distracted by the persistent rattling of Casa Soprano's air-conditioning unit. He makes a face, because God knows how anyone can be expected to be happy if he can't read his luxury oceangoing vessel magazine by the pool of his massive house? He strolls over, and tries punching the metal box. I'm surprised that this doesn't work, but then again, I'm not super-mechanically inclined. When the punching method doesn't work, Tony tries the ol' lid toss, like he can't just take the lid off and set it aside, he has to rip it off and throw it into the bushes, such is the extent of his irritation. Convinced that he's shown the air conditioner who's boss, Tony settles back into his chair. Cue the rattling. Cue Tony's half-lidded glare. Cue the sad trumpet blaring "wah-waaaaaaahhhh."
Looks like Vito's hiding out somewhere off the Jersey shore with his goomar, who says she's "lying out," and asks whether he wants to come. "The UV index is ten," says Not As Wide Guy, and the goomar bitches that they never go out, and that they don't do anything else (meaning sex). Vito asks if that's all she thinks about. "'All I ever think about'? You haven't fucked me in over a year!" she yells, which Vito blames on his blood sugar, something to do with his weight loss, and not on the fact that he doesn't like vagina. The goomar stomps out, and Vito yells, "Good! Fine! Skin cancer!" which it looks to me like her leather skin will protect her from anyway.
Tony's sitting outside at Satriale's, and Christophuh shows up, and kisses him hello. That is so gay. They discuss the Rusty hit, Christopher asking whether Tony made the call to Italy. "Our friend over there is going to fit him for a suit," says Tony. I thought Johnny Sack wanted this guy whacked, not...oh. Ohhhhhhhh. "She's going to send over two of her best tailors," says Tony. I thought she was in Miami now? Tony wants Chris to set the "tailors" up with a third party, to procure some "scissors." I love the euphemisms. I love the thought of, like, the worst FBI agents in the world monitoring the conversation and taking a break, thinking Tony and Chris are just talking about suits. Chris has mulled it over, and he's not so opposed to contracting the work out as he was before. Tony gives him a wry "glad you approve."