Big Girls Don't Cry

Episode Report Card
Miss Parker: B- | Grade It Now!
Out of the woods

Tony shows up at Melfi's office, thank goodness. Tony: Sigh. Melfi: Sigh. Once again, I can clearly see a package outline. Somebody buy these guys pants that fit or teach them how to sit properly. Melfi asks if Tony's taking his medication, he says off and on, she says take it or don't take it, he grumbles, and the surrogate mother-son relationship begins anew. She brings up the time when he passed out behind the wheel, and he's all passive-aggressive "seems like years ago," but she's all "you're angry with me for not agreeing to treat you again?" Melfi took a vacation and is back with firepower, and Tony knows it. Everyone grins at each other slyly, and Tony starts to get real. He tells her about his father having panic attacks too, and is less than pleased when she doesn't respond with "Eureka!" or something like that. "Anthony, what is it you want to achieve here?" she says calmly. Good segue, Jennifer. In order of importance, Tony wants to a) stop passing out, b) stop panicking, c) direct his power and anger at the people in his life who deserve it, and d) be in total control. Melfi retorts that there's no such thing as total control, and if he wants to be a better gang leader, he should read The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Zing. I'm liking you sassy, Jennifer. She must have heeded Elliott's sage advice to stay away from sugar substitutes. Tony zings back with a few choice words about how she knows he's a Mafia boss and yet she called him. Gotcha, Melfi. See where a weepy sense of responsibility gets you? He tries to freak her out by describing what Furio was doing (breaking into a whorehouse and beating the crap out of people who owed Tony money) when she called him. Melfi's eyes glaze over, but she keeps her cool by asking him how that made him feel. Tony wishes he had been in there. "Giving the beating or taking it?" Ooh, Melfi. Tony chuckles knowingly but doesn't answer. Melfi looks scared that she hit on something. Miss Parker raises her own eyebrows. Interesting...

Christopher is lying in bed awake with his unibrow. Eerie and subdued electric-guitar-picking music plays. He gets up and goes to his laptop to write. He flips through his script, atrociously titled "You Bark I Bite," and throws it in the trash. He's like a man possessed as he takes all his disks and papers and throws them all in a garbage bag and goes out to the dumpster. In a wife-beater and boxers, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Christopher bids goodbye to his screenplay. What a downer. I'm going to make some Mood Mender tea now; I'm all depressed.

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