Back in Chicago (it hurts to even type those words), Fat Jake is on a collecting trip to a South Side bar when he's chatted up by one Joe Miller, whose conversation is way more pointed than Jake's inane pleasantries. Miller ultimately comes down to Jake's end of the bar and says, "You called Dean O'Banion a liar," referring to the sit-down with Torrio. Jake really doesn't want any trouble, he just wants to enjoy his beer, and Joe should too. "How can I," Miller asks, "with the stink coming off of you?" Jake downs his beer and goes to exit the situation, but Miller breaks a beer mug over his head and starts beating and berating him. Poor Jake. Has anyone made a supercut of all the utterances of "You fat fuck!" on HBO shows? I'd be interested, as I'm starting to think of overweight character actors on HBO the same as I do the countless women who have played strippers, hookers, and otherwise naked women: good that you're getting work and all, but jeez, sorry it's gotta be this degrading.

Back in Philly, Nucky Sleater, and Smith continue to wait downstairs while Waxey's crooked Feds relieve the house of every last crate of pilfered liquor. "We're all in this together," Rowland says, aspiringly, and Nucky and Sleater almost laugh at this kid's chutzpah. Nucky frets about what these guys will find in the car, but Sleater assures him it's empty, and the plates are registered to Tunney, who met his end out there anyway. Rowland pipes up that he's got about 50 plates if Nucky needs any. He swaps them out on his car every time he does a job, to keep the police off his tail. Sleater's like, "Well, what about these guys, then?" but Rowland says he guesses it's just coincidence. He semi-brags to Nucky about how easy it was to pull off the jobs, since nobody wants to die over a few crates of liquor. He says it's a shame about Nate, his partner, though; says the Feds got him. Neither Sleater nor Nucky corrects him that it was they who caught (and, um, killed) Nate. The prohies start shining flashlights around the basement windows, and the three men inside move to avoid the light.

In New York City, Benny/Bugsy Siegel is spooning laxative into a bowl for some intriguing purpose, and Lansky has to tell him to take it easy. "You want 'em shitting themselves all over Hester Street?" I like that the turf battle for drug dealing in NYC has expended to include frat pranks designed to make people shit themselves. Anyway, Benny wants to be included in today's sit-down summit with Masseria. He says he "stepped up" the other night, though Lucniano scoffs that he shot his wad off in the middle of the street, nothing more. Benny says the other guys went home one guy short, but Luciano's like "Meyer did that!" Benny's retort is basically: "But still!" Lansky tells him to let him and Lucky talk, and Benny pouts off.