Bada Bing. Girls in thongs, in an obvious shout-out to Pamie. In the back room, Silvio pours a shot of something into Tony's coffee cup and says that "that doesn't sound like Anthony," and Tony gripes, "Yesterday he's a little boy, today I gotta worry about him." While Big Pussy lines up a shot on the pool table, Silvio spikes Pussy's espresso too while complaining that his daughter gives him shit about Bada Bing and how it objectifies women, and he tries to explain to her that the girls at the Bing make fifteen hundred a week, "but this bears no weight with the principessa." Tony says that it's not the same, that "this is my son," and Pussy weighs in with the profound insight that "boys are different from girls." Tony asks Pussy if Pussy's sons ever ask "about this thing a ours." "I lied through my teeth, but they knew," Pussy sighs. "Fuckin' nitwits, they love me anyway." "It's hard to raise kids in an information age," Silvio says. Heh. "To protect them," Tony adds, and takes the pool cue from Pussy. Enter Christopher with a selection of stolen ladies' watches, which Christopher pinched from a Fed Ex van when the driver went for lunch. Pussy says admiringly, "No shit, Fed Ex -- they're usually pretty careful with those." Tony isn't as impressed: "You did this in broad daylight?" Christopher says that nobody saw him, but Tony bitches at him that "that's interstate commerce" and Christopher will get eight years, and Christopher murmurs to Silvio that he takes a licking but keeps on ticking -- like, ha ha. Not. -- and Tony agrees with me and stomps out. Christopher: "What's with his ass?" "He's got a lot on his mind," Pussy says gravely.