Previously, Jimmy and Al Capone ambushed a whiskey shipment and killed four (or five, who's counting?) bootleggers who were in the employ of Arnold Rothstein. This drove a wedge between Jimmy and Nucky, set Rothstein off, and turned Capone into a dick. Then it turned out that there were five victims after all. And one of them was only mostly dead.
So yeah, after stumbling out and starting Mr. and Mrs. American Handjob last week, our gutshot friend is being wheeled into a hospital ER. He's grunting unintelligibly as he's wheeled past Eli Thompson, who walks in the other direction to meet an arriving Nucky and Jimmy. Nucky can't believe this guy's still alive after three days out in the cold. Eli's theory: "He's fat. He's insulated." Nucky is, as ever, perturbed, and his mood doesn't improve any when Jimmy swears that he thought they killed them all. Not wanting to be seen hovering over this unpleasantness for too long, Nucky tells Eli to "let nature take its course ... help it along if you have to" and to keep him posted. To Jimmy, he says, "You better hope he dies real soon."
A classy-looking guy in a top hat drives a classy-looking stagecoach led by a classy-looking horse down the streets of Atlantic City. For a moment, I'm transported back to my beloved Deadwood. But there are no whores packed into that stagecoach, only crates of Canadian Club. The stagecoach clomps its way into the livery warehouse, where Nucky and Chalky White are there, with Chalky's men waiting to unload the shipment. Chalky establishes his bona fides with his crew, promising to "take it out of y'all's asses" if any of the whiskey goes missing. (Nucky's retort of "Simon Legree" is somewhat lost on Chalky, and yet another example of how uncommonly well-read Nucky is, given the company he keeps.) Chalky surveys the take and tells Nucky with the 500 bottles he's got here, he could "mix it up" and yield 3,000 bottles to sell. How quickly prohibition leads to a diluted and unclean product supply. Nucky offers Chalky an 80/20 split on the profit, saying he provides the product, Chalky and his people will work their "magic" on it. "That's a whole lotta magic for 20%," Chalky observes. Nucky says that's the split he gave to Mickey, but Chalky wants 40. "What happened to 30?" Nucky asks, Chalky says he's charging him 10% extra for thinking he'd take the same deal as Mickey. "Didn't realize you were so sensitive," Nucky says. "Like a baby's ass, motherfucker," Chalky replies. They settle on 35%, then Chalky goes about instructing his crew. Confused, Nucky turns to Eddie: "What's 'motherfucker' mean?"