Anyway, Juice's first instinct is to catch up with the rest of the boys and tell them all about it, but Clay -- who would like to kill Frankie before he can talk -- tells Juicy, "Let's you and me vet it out first, see if it's real." Juice gives him a disapproving look and Clay plays the pitiful-old-man card with, "I just had to pass off my goddamned ride. Let me do something useful here, Juice." Naturally, Juice buys the act. How, how, how did he survive in prison with that abundant natural reservoir of gullibility?
And now, here is the point where things get effin' wonky with my version of the episode. I swear, there are scenes that I watched on Tuesday night that aren't on my copy now.
So we jump Gemma and Nero on their date -- first stop: Lucius -- and Nero is explaining how he got back into pimping. Long story short: neither the California penal system nor the U.S. job market is set up to give ex-cons a fair shot at gainful, legitimate employment. Gemma dryly comments that it's hard to be a land baron on minimum wage. Nero asks, "What about you, mama? Being an old lady was your life's ambition?" Gemma says, "My only ambition was to keep moving. I hooked up with JT when I was 18... I was all in from that first ride. Knocked up two months later." Nero refrains from commenting.
Then Lucius comes over and he charms the pants off Gemma by saying, "Wow, she really is pretty!" Gemma is amused and pleased that Nero was talking about her that way.
The club has rolled up outside of the "Fisherman's Poker Club," where they're meeting a mountain of a man -- and nomad club member -- named Quinn. He looks like a bigger, slightly less tattooed version of Kurt Sutter. Anyway, Quinn lumbers inside, the rest of the bikers trailing him like ducklings and they introduce themselves to Pirelli and the rest of the Italians with their fists.
Once the brawling is over and the dust clears, Pirelli asks, quite reasonably, "What the hell is wrong with you guys? Somebody sneezes, you throw a fist? How do you get any business done?" Ha! It's like he speaks for me. Jax explains that Frankie Diamonds needs to not get out of the states and sells the very convincing lie that Frankie is sitting on $500,000 from the club -- cash the club uses to bankroll their business -- and says, "If you think we're noisy, wait until the cartel and the IRA come knocking." Bobby helpfully embroiders the story by wondering if the grenade launchers the cartel has can affect the way the poker chips are stacked at this rustic games palace. Quinn adds, "We just want Frankie." "You can even keep the cash," Jax offers, declining to mention that approximately $350,000 of it is purely imaginary. Pirelli has developed 500,000 reasons to show SAMCRO where Frankie is. Then he tells Jax, "If I find out you're lying, it ain't going to be such a beautiful sunshiney day in the splendor of the lakes. You understand?" Jax rolls his eyes and says, "Not exactly, but I think I get the point."