Jimmy heads out into the night, and before he does, he pulls out the knife he used in that Chicago massacre last year. The one with the metal finger-holes and the skull-crusher thing. I'm just going to call it what I've been calling it in my head: the Fuck Knife. Because: FUCK. Anyway, Jimmy puts the Fuck Knife in his back pocket and heads out into the dark streets of NYC. He ends up at ... I'm going to say Tompkins Square Park. He stops by a statue dedicated to temperance (har har) and waits for the two Italians who were hassling Lansky to approach him. They're going to jack him for his poker money, just as Jimmy expected they would. And just as Jimmy planned, he dispatches them with the Fuck Knife in a quick and bloody affair.
Back at Nucky's, McGarrigle is as much of a hoot as ever. Only one glass of port for this guy! He tells Nucky that his organization needs guns and the money to buy them in order to combat the "barbaric English." He hopes he can count on Nucky as a "loyal son of Erin." Of course, we know Nucky hates St. Patrick's Day and is opportunistic at best when it comes to Irish issues. But Nucky still knows how to butter bread, so he writes out a check. McGarrigle -- get this -- says he would prefer cash! Nucky's like, "Yeah, well it's been that kinda night." Nucky tries to make further pleasantries, says it's a shame McGarrigle couldn't stay longer. Mr. Sunshine is like, "I've seen enough." Moran mentions that Slater will be staying on in the States. He says he's got no stomach left for the fight. Well sure, that pretty face is not meant for strife. Nucky sighs and says to bring him around tomorrow; he'll find him a job. He then excuses himself, but McGarrigle decides he'll have that second glass of port anyway. Jesus, it's The Man Who Came to Dinner and Wouldn't Eat Lamb up in here.