At yet another diner, Tony and Bobby Bacala are sitting down for a late-night snack. Bobby is eating a steak with onion rings. Tony is having scrambled eggs with no oil and tomato slices. Heh. Only The Sopranos could ever make me laugh at a shot of a guy putting salt on his eggs. They discuss Bobby's promotion, and the big guy actually displays some backbone by claiming that it was long overdue. This, of course, inspires Tony to further coat his own backbone with cholesterol and nitrates by ordering a steak for himself. At this point the conversation delves into the show's only outright acknowledgement of September 11th, with Bobby bemoaning the fact that his mother "really went downhill after the World Trade Center." Of course, in the show's own inimitable style, Bobby quickly follows that up with, "You know, Quasimodo predicted all this." Bwah! Tony steps in to establish the difference between Quasimodo and Nostradamus, and then further elucidates between Nostradamus and Notre Dame. "It's interesting, though, they'd be so similar, isn't it?" wonders a not-at-all bashful Bobby. "And I always thought, okay, Hunchback of Notre Dame. You also got your quarterback and running back of Notre Dame…it's interesting, the coincidence. What, you gonna tell me you never pondered that?" Bwah again! But then -- what about the fullback of Notre Dame? And the punter who kicks to the touchbacks of Notre Dame? And let's not forget the track team, which probably also carries the camelbacks of Notre Dame. I'm just saying. Tony sighs in frustration, and I'm reminded yet again that every time he tries to get close to someone, he's somehow stymied by the conversation. And whenever someone wants to get close to him, he's always too angry to realize it. Hey, wait a second. Why am I psychoanalyzing Tony? Oh, yeah. There hasn't been any Melfi yet. Well, where the hell is she? This shit ain't easy, you know.
And now back to Christopher. The DKDP tries any number of strategies to convince Chris not to kill him, but all of them fail miserably. Continuing with his Sipowicz-style interrogation, Chris asks, "Are you inferring that you didn't take cash from Jilly Rufalo to whack my father while he was carrying a TV tray for me to watch TV?" Heh. It's nice how he just worked that tidbit into his mental image of the whole event. It's true to Chris's character ["especially, in my opinion, Chris mixing up 'infer' and 'imply'" -- Sars], and it still makes Papa Moltisanti look like a much better person than he probably really was. The DKDP continues to insist that he's innocent, and that whoever sent Christopher to his house is just trying to set him up. "It wouldn't make any difference," sighs Christopher. "He wants you dead." And now the preparations for the killing begin in earnest, as Chris switches over to the DKDP's service pistol, and cranks up the volume on the TV. The Daddy-Killing Diner Pirate makes a desperate attempt to break free from the banister, and when he does, he dives behind the sofa. Um, why? Is there another gun back there? A safe, perhaps? Or does this guy think upholstery can stop bullets (and while we're on the subject, who else wants to see Vern try to make a Kevlar love seat)? Nothing helps, however, and Christopher dispatches the putative pop-killer with two shots to the head.