Tony walks into Ramsey Outdoor and tells a stocker to put three cases of Ramlosa bottled water in his car. The stocker cheerfully obliges. Tony walks over to David, who's on the phone ordering picnic coolers. Paulie tells a take-out guy to put his armload of food on the table. They tell him to put the bill on the company's tab. David tries to order both red and blue coolers, and Richie says he can only order the red coolers, because the blue ones won't sell as well. I don't know, people. I'm just telling you what they said. He's all, "Red. Fuck blue. Red sells." Brought to you by the National Red Foundation. David says his guy can only give him blue coolers now and will give him a price on the red later. Richie says "Fuck that" again, because the guy's never getting paid anyway. David gets back on the phone and tells the guy to send him the red coolers. Tony echoes all of our opinions by observing that it's an awful lot of work for some "fucking coolers." Richie gives his words of wisdom: "Coolers are like scissors. Everybody wants one. Nobody has a fucking idea how much they cost. You put a Nigerian out on the street, have them sell these for a couple three bucks a piece, who's not gonna say, 'Fuck it. Give me one.'" Indeed. David rubs his temple. Tony asks if David booked the airline tickets yet. David stands up in a huff and says that people are going to start getting suspicious if a sporting goods store starts buying airline tickets in bulk. Tony says that he should just say the tickets are a promotional device. He says not to worry about it. He should put it on different lines of credit. David says he's all of a sudden buying all kinds of weird shit, like picnic coolers and Ramlosa water, and eventually one of his vendors is going to start noticing things are strange. Tony just rocks back and forth in his chair. Richie tells David that until his money and his credit runs out and the cops are notified, he needs to just keep ordering shit. "Unless you're ready to pay the principal you owe us," he adds. Tony nods in agreement.
Tony and A.J. are rough-housing by the pool. Oh, I hate it when I write like my mother talking to my Aunt Kathy. Tony's more playing, and A.J.'s telling Tony to quit it. Tony tells A.J. to turn the heat up in the pool. A.J. walks over to the control box and recoils in terror. "Oh, fuck! Fuck!" he shouts, as he jumps back seven feet. Tony asks what's wrong. "Spider," A.J. shudders. Tony looks inside the box. "So, kill it," he says. A.J. tells Tony to kill the spider. Tony tells A.J. to get over there and kill the spider. Tony puts his hands inside the box and scoops something into his cupped hands. He walks towards A.J. "Come here," he says. "No way," A.J. says as he backs up. Tony takes another step forward, and A.J. awkwardly scuttles into the pool to avoid having to look at the spider. He's all flailing arms and flailing legs and I hear my roommate Ray mutter, "I hear you, A.J." I can't even tell you how many times I've found Ray standing on a chair, screeching like Smurfette to get me to kill some spider. "It was a freakin' leaf, you idiot!" Tony yells after A.J., laughing at the fear in his kid's eyes. There's another boy that hangs out in my apartment that would also jump into a pool of water to avoid arachnids, but he'd be very upset if I said his name here. Wait a minute. He hasn't read a recap of mine in months. His name begins with an "S" and ends with "tee-rrified of spiders and creepy-crawlies."