It's Steve Buscemi week on television, and I approve heartily! On Sunday, he showed up on The Simpsons and tonight, he's private investigator Lenny Wozniak. Jack hires Lenny to do a background check on himself, to make sure he'll pass G.E.'s rigorous pre-CEO-hiring vetting process. While Lenny turns up very few deep dark secrets on Jack aside from the usual -- embarrassing family, undocumented immigrants as household help -- he does come up with one Technicolor doozy. Jack collects cookie jars and attends conventions with his fellow aficionados under the alias "Vic Nightingale." After Lenny shows Jack pictures of a younger, freer Rudy Giuliani with his wooden doll collection ("He looks so happy," Jack protests. "I've already made enough sacrifices for this company -- they're not going to get this!"), Jack's convinced he has to get rid of the collection. But who to give it to? The one person who sees the upside-down "WOW" on the side of a jar in the office: Kenneth. As Kenneth walks off with the first of the jars, Jack asks G.E. "Are you happy now, you son of a bitch?"
Kenneth can use the collection to cram all his personal troubles away. He's been assigned the task of keeping Jenna fat. She's losing weight because her recent professional success -- fan mail from prisons, the endorsement for Enormé perfume (the perfume for plus-sized women), a good working relationship with Jack -- has made her too happy to eat. A less-fat Jenna is a less-loved Jenna, so Kenneth's assigned the task of fattening her like the hogs on his family farm. Unfortunately, his attempts to insult Jenna somehow inflame her libido instead. Oh, Jenna. You'll never keep the calories on that way.
And poor Liz is stuck between Angie's giant rock (it belonged to Brooke Astor) and the crazy place that is Tracy. Angie's determined to watch Tracy like a hawk, but even she can't do it all, so she enlists Liz's help. However, Tracy springs free and heads off to a strip club -- he's in withdrawal and the only fix he craves is a coked-up Russian who tolerates his motorboating her saltwater-inflated cleavage. Although Liz and Tracy almost pull off an alibi when he gets back, Angie smells the Enormé and brass polish on Tracy, deduces he was at a strip club, declares Liz unfit to handle her business, and becomes the kind of backstage nightmare to which Mama Rose could only aspire. Fed up, Liz gets advice from Jack to kick out Angie, but to learn to take a punch before effecting the actual eviction. When Liz goes down to kick Angie out, it nearly degenerates into a catfight, but then the moon goes into the seventh house, Jupiter aligns with Mars, and several of Tracy's neurons fire in order. He steps up, orders Angie to back off and get out...and inflames her libido. We are left to assume that Tracy's working situation is back in order.