Outside a club, a bouncer chooses people from behind the velvet rope; Christopher reminds the bouncer not to "forget about us," apparently forgetting the cardinal rule of dealing with bouncers, namely that annoying them by saying things like "don't forget about us" will assure that they forget about you with a vengeance. Adriana "Karenina" La Cerva stands beside him, working her gum; Brendan, all twitchy, tells the bouncer that "we're the ones that Kenny Portugal said say hello." "Oh yeah, Kenny," says the bouncer, going back to his list. Brendan makes an "and...?" gesture with his head, but the bouncer continues to ignore him. Brendan and Christopher mutter to each other. An arriving limo discharges a woman in a red dress and a Martin Scorsese look-alike. "Mr. Scorsese, good evening," the bouncer says (no, it's not really Scorsese -- I checked the credits), and Christopher et. al. say "whoa" and "wow," and Christopher calls after Scorsese's retreating back, "Kundun! I liked it!" and makes a gesture of solidarity with his fist. Tee hee.
At a table inside, Brendan snorts a line of crystal and says that his boy at Comley told him about a shipment of Italian suits. Christopher snorts a line too and says that "those move fast" and "Mario'll take the whole load." Brendan tells him when the shipment comes in. Christopher all of a sudden remembers that he's pissed off, and he boils over: "Give me one good reason why I should not jack this truck." Brendan agrees that Junior left them "no choice but to do it again." Well, actually, they do have a choice: they can do it again, or they can live. Christopher bitches about the tribute again; Brendan backs him up. Christopher bitches about getting nowhere "playing by the rules" and bags on Tony; Brendan says, "'The books are closed' -- blow me," and makes a jerk-off motion with his hand. Christopher corrects him: "No, that's some true shit." Brendan doesn't buy it, but Christopher calls the current state of the organization "fucking chaos," explaining that nobody knows who to report to, or who to kick payments upstairs to in some cases. He adds, "I'm talking about the year 2000. The millennium. Where do we go from here?" Brendan nods very somberly, although I don't think he knows what Christopher's talking about (I certainly don't). A shot of the girlfriends dancing (badly).