Having ditched both Hunt and the pair of floozies Casso assigned to attend to their every whim, Sam is downstairs skulking his way off the dance floor when a gyrating Annie calls him over. She wants to dance; he just wants to go home. And go home he would, if he didn't notice the sullen-eyed hipster standing across the dance floor wearing a Nirvana Nevermind t-shirt that's about two decades out of place. (Intentional and symbolic, I know, but man, does this ever give the producers an out for any inadvertent continuity error. "Why was someone using an iPhone in that scene? Uh... it's time travel! Yeah!") Anyhow, we hear the Machine That Goes Ping again, as Sam zooms in on the Nirvana groupie before snapping back to what currently passes for reality. "That guy," Sam sputters. "Smells like Teen Spirit." "He smells?" asks Annie, who is understandably not up on her grunge. Sam finally managers to spit out that the kid was wearing a Nirvana t-shirt. "He was probably a Buddhist," Annie says. And -- rimshot! Tip your waiters and waitresses, everyone. Then Sam sees something else that freaks him out -- Joe Namath! It's the 1973 version of Broadway Joe, sadly, and not the one trying to kiss Suzy Kolber. On his way to go gawk at Joe Namath, Sam bumps into Jim Croce. Or at least, an actor portraying Jim Croce since, you know -- dead. And it's not like they're giving zombies SAG cards these days. "Whatever you do, Jim," Sam says, "you stay away from small airplanes." Jim Croce does not look like he's incline to take that advice -- boy, he's going to feel like a jerk for dismissing Sam come September.
Before a dazed Sam can leave the club to track down Thurman Munson and deliver his important safety message, Profaci walks up and shoves a wad of bills in his hand. "Elliot wants you to have it," Profaci explains. "You know, bygones and such." Sam hands the money back to Profaci -- no cops for sale here, my Nathan Lane look-a-like friend. Now scamper, or Sam will arrest you for trying to bribe a police officer. While Profaci heads off with his bribing tail between his legs, Hunt sidles over to ask what the matter is. "Your friend just tried to pay me off," Sam complains. "They can't help themselves," Hunt replies, with a these-mobsters-today-what-can-you-do-about-it chuckle. Sam is not amused: "I'd rather burn that money than spend it." "So burn it," Hunt says three times, thanks to the miracle of jump cuts. Anything to avoid offending the mob. And if you do burn it, Sam, make sure it's to the rhythm of "Get It On" since that's what's blasting on the soundtrack now. Well, at least he gets to dance with Annie.