Cut to the Sarah Scandinavia (or perhaps the Tara Tajikistan), where Tony and Gloria are lying in bed. He's got his post-coital cigar, she's wearing the sexiest lingerie I've seen since G-String Divas occupied the Sunday-night time-slot. Tony tells a story about some Moroccan guy he once knew, which ends up being a joke that bears the punch line: "I never forget a fez." Mine aren't that bad, are they? Don't answer that. ["(cough)" -- Sars] Gloria's cell phone rings, and she dives over Tony to grab it, looking sad when it turns out to be a wrong number. Tony asks if it's related to her family problems, and Gloria glumly relates that her sister won't allow her to visit her niece and nephew at Christmas anymore. Tony seems to be listening, but also talks at cross-purposes, complaining about the quality of Bobby Bacala's Santa at this year's party. Gloria goes on and on with a long series of complaints about the sister and her husband, and doesn't everybody just hate that one co-worker that always seems to feel the need to tell you these long, boring, hideously awful personal stories about how messed up their family is, despite the fact that it's way too much information and you obviously don't care in the least? Or maybe that's just me. Or more accurately, the girl in the next cubicle. Anyway, Gloria's rant continues with some PC semiotics relating to calling the pageant the "Winter Festival," and "Christmas" as the "C-word," and I guess that's the writer's way of apologizing for the "goyim" crack earlier. The niece and nephew are somewhat improbably named Hannah and Seamus, by the way. "What does Seamus say about [all this]?" asks Tony, and Gloria snaps back, "He's ten. What the fuck does he know?" Heh. Gloria slowly gets up and starts to get dressed, muttering that "maybe we'll all get lucky. With the way these trucks go by out here, maybe I'll get plastered against a grille." I'd say that one was definitely more dark than deep. Then she starts bitching about work and her sexually-harassing boss, but Tony tunes out and starts checking his watch. When a song that still isn't Tom Petty no matter how many times I listen to it comes on the radio, Gloria cranks the volume and starts dancing. Tony and his cigar that's still never in the same place no matter how many shots they use watch admiringly. She climbs onto the bed and throws a leg over (tm Sars) Tony, and they laugh and kiss as the scene comes to a close. Gandolfini and Sciorra certainly seem pretty comfortable with one another.