Sam reassures Vic that there's nothing to worry about. That's easy for Sam to say, as he's never clapped eyes on the Pignato Brothers -- Vic has. "When I was a kid growing up in Bensonhurst," Vic says, "there was this one time we caught these rats. These big suckers - long, pink tails like whips, greasy hindquarters. And we kept them. We kept them in a junked out icebox in the basement. And after about a week of starving them and all, they started to chew their way out. Right through the metal. I just happened to be there when they did, you know, as their faces were poking out, their little jaws all bloody from the effort. Never in my life had I seen such a maniacal rage. That is, until I met Tommy and Angelo Pignato." Yeah, it's spooky and all, but really, hasn't Vic just described the Cheney years? Particularly the bit about maniacal rage. Anyhow, Vic asks Sam if he'd care to know why the Pignatos were so full of rage during that particular face-to-face. "Because the Mets lost," Vic says simply. Hope neither Angelo or Tommy lived to see the end of the 2008 season, if that's the case. Vic concludes this uplifting story by telling Sam that if he goes to meet the Great Bookmaker in the Sky tonight -- Sam protests that he won't let that happen -- he wants Sam to deliver the news of his gruesome demise to both Rose and Li'l Sam. Which won't be uncomfortable at all for anyone.
Time to hand over money to some kidnappers. Hunt brings in a briefcase stuffed with actual currency as opposed to monopoly money -- which seems like a real bad idea just in case this drop-off goes south. But that's not Hunt's concern; he's more bothered about Vic, whom he does not seem to trust at all. "My worry is," he says to Sam, but loud enough for Vic to hear, "is this guy for real?" Before Vic can answer, we're outside Sully's ("For your next money exchange, please stop by Sully's and enjoy our vinyl-covered dining booths while you're there!"), which is a bar in a neighborhood so disreputable, the hookers feel free to conduct their negotiations in plain sight. Catching a glimpse of some of these working girls, I think that they'd probably have a better time closing the deal somewhere without so much ambient light -- like in the Mariana Trench.