Sons of Anarchy

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Blessed Are the Peacemakers, for They Get to Go to Ireland

Inside church, the guys have just voted on their prospects, and they are the sorriest group of recruits you ever did see. They make Flounder and Pinto from Animal House look like Animal Mother and Eightball from Full Metal Jacket. As Chibs walks over and hands them their brand-new cuts, he says, "Well, boys, the easy part is over." "I get it, man," one of them says, and Jax bellows, "Shut up! You don't say anything unless a member tells you to." Anyway, these poor suckers are prospects for at least a year, and they're on the hook for $75 per month in dues. (This seems really low. What is the money used for? Craft projects? The $225 these prospects are kicking to the club won't even cover a night of drinking for these guys.) Clay adds, "Welcome. Don't get yourself killed." "Now get the hell out of here," Opie commands. Everyone gets, to the bellows of "Shut the door!"

Clay then brings up the requests for transfer -- one from Tacoma (Kozik) and one from the nomads (Happy). He says, "I just want to say, for me, both of these guys would make welcome additions, and to be honest, we need you." They sure do -- those prospects are weaksauce indeed. The voting commences. Happy's unanimously voted in, and his little-boy grin when Jax says, "Yeaaaaah!" is just adorable. Awww, who's the cutest thirteen-time murderer at the SAMCRO table? Happy is! Clay then bangs a gavel and says, "Kozik. Yay." To his right, Tig looks right at Kozik and says, "Nay." Cut to Kozik rolling his eyes and then back to Clay, who says flatly, "Jesus Christ. Really?" Tig shakes his head with, "I don't trust the man." Clay picks up the gavel and slams it down with extreme prejudice.

The church meeting ends. Clay stalks out, absolutely livid, but Happy's all hugs for everyone. Which, again, adorable. Sure, he's a vicious enforcer and 13-time killer, but he loves his mama, sounds like he gargles with Dran-O and is all excited about being part of SAMCRO. Kozik, however, is not all grins and hugs. Clay and Jax drift over to hang out with him, and Clay apologizes with, "I thought he was on board. You stick around, though -- you understand?" Jax adds, "Tig just wants you to know how big his dick is." Oh, what a pity at least one firsthand witness to that particular marvel was iced in episode three. And cows don't yet have the capacity for human speech. Jax assures him, "We'll vote again in a couple of weeks. You'll be SAMCRO." Kozik says, "Yeah? I'ma start the healing."

Then he charges Tig from behind, punches the other man in the kidneys, and gloats, "It's no fun getting sucker-punched, is it?" Piney, who had pulled Tig back to a standing position, gives Kozik a What is WRONG with you, son? look, but steps back. And then Tig and Kozik go to town on each other. The Flounder-esque prospect asks Jax, "Should we do anything?" and Jax drawls, "Yeah. Get some brews. There's gonna be a lot of shit to clean up." Opie has actually grabbed a bowl of popcorn and is happily munching away, Happy is yelling for people to go kill each other, Piney is chortling, and everyone is generally amped on testosterone and spectacle. Kozik and Tig continue to find new ways to make the other bleed.

Clay and Gemma are conferring in her hospital bathroom as Gemma takes care of business. Clay's trying to figure out how to shut down the Mayans, then swing a trip to Belfast with a bunch of folks whom the government will be looking for on account of them jumping bail. He's going to reach out to Osborne, since that is apparently the only person left in Charming who can or will help them. After the water closet conference, the Morrows shuffle back to Gemma's hospital bed. Her lawyer -- played by Robin Weigert, and thus nicknamed Counselor Calamity Jane until I get another name for her -- is amused by this, but doesn't belabor the mirth too much because she's too tickled by her own news: "I spent all last night wrestling with the U.S. attorneys' office. They've agreed to take the death penalty off the table if you'll plead guilty to the two murders." Gemma asks about visitation and Counselor Calamity says, "One thing at a time." Clay's not too happy about this deal, but Gemma's up for it.

Meanwhile, Jax is meeting with Stahl in the hospital chapel. Frankly, I'm amazed she didn't burst into flames upon entry, but one suspends disbelief where one must. Jax's first item of business: Why in the hell is the bail hearing still on today's docket? Stahl's response: While bagging Luke has been good for her career (so far, today), it has not been good enough for her to magically rearrange the bail hearing docket. "Getting through to [the county courthouse system] is going to involve a lot of favors," she says, trying to manage expectations downward. Jax displays a flair for leadership by telling Stahl, "It's not MY problem." Having been smacked down on that item, Stahl moves on and hands Jax a folder; it contains Gemma's statement about what happened with Polly and Edmond at the safe house. The words "And then Agent Stahl set me up" will, of course, be nowhere in that document. Jax reads through it and says, "Wait a minute, this -- I don't get it." Stahl says that he doesn't have to. All Gemma has to do is regurgitate the details back to the people who will be questioning her. "If you want her clear of the homicide, get her on board," Stahl orders. Jax reluctantly agrees. Stahl tells Jax, "I'll make sure to keep you all out of jail for a few more weeks," then exits the chapel. As she heads down the hall, Clay catches sight of her. Jax remains in the chapel, rolling up the statement so he can hide it on his person somewhere. He barely gets it hid before Clay's burst into the chapel, demanding to know what Stahl wanted.

Jax punts, and Clay gets to his other question: "What the hell is going on with Tara?" Jax doesn't know. He tries to explain, "She's a surgeon, Clay. She's in that room, saving lives, every day." Clay rolls his eyes and asks, "And your point?" "It's the opposite of everything I am," Jax says. Clay snorts dismissively: "It's your guilt talking. She's a chick! Don't complicate it. You gotta make a decision, son. She's either in or out. But if she's out, you don't let that hammer fall until she moves those scrips for us. We don't get that cash, we don't get your son." And ... scene. This is brilliant because everyone with half a brain knows that Clay does not think of Gemma as "a chick" who is to be moved around like a chess piece in the club games -- yet Clay has no problem spinning this line of BS when he wants to move Tara around like a chess piece. It's a nice piece of manipulation.

And it works, because the next scene has Jax meeting with Tara in the neonatal patients' lounge. He sighs and says, "I need to ask you for a favor. The club came into some prescription drugs, mostly HIV stuff. I was wondering if you know a clinic that might need it." Props to Charlie Hunnam for his delivery here -- everything from his body language to the way he sighs between sentences broadcasts how much he doesn't want to be asking this. Tara asks, "Black market?" and Jax nods nearly imperceptibly. He pleads that he just needs a name, but Tara points out he'll need more than that. She paces, thinking, and Jax watches her, his brow creased like a shar-pei's. Tara finally says, "I know where to take it," and Jax protests, "You're not taking it anywhere." She shoots him down with, "They're medical professionals, Jax. They're not going to buy drugs from a biker." (This argument could get tiresome if Tara breaks it out too much: "They're tax professionals, Jax. They're not going to expect 1099s from a biker." "They're tenured professors, Jax. They're not going to accept a thesis on Rimbaud from a biker." "They're pastry chefs, Jax. They're not going to accept plastic sacks of white powder from a biker." And so on.) Reminded again that there's a rather large professional gulf between the two of them, Jax can only seethe. Tara's helping, whether he likes it or not.

And now, it's capering time! And by that, I mean it's time to see the SAMCRO boy

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Sons of Anarchy




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