With Magnum P.I. still blaring all ironically in the background, a semi-dazed Chris then staggers around the living room a bit before firing another shot into the giant fish on the wall. Hmm. You know, Joss Whedon has his father issues, and Alan Ball has a fondness for sassy teen-age redheads, but it's David Chase's fish fetish that really keeps me up at night. I'm not sure why that is. Christopher does an absolutely horrible job of cleaning up the crime scene (FS2 = 5), but he's really more concerned with the fact that the guy only has a single twenty-dollar bill in his wallet. The scene finally ends with Christopher violently kicking the cop's corpse, and Tom Selleck portentously droning on in the background about some guy who's been arrested for impersonating a police officer. "Hmm" again.
Incidentally, it's at times like these that I'm reminded of another prominent prayer of confession from Yom Kippur. "Ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu, divreinu…" "We have trespassed, we have dealt treacherously, we have stolen, we have spoken slander, we have committed iniquity, and have done wickedly; we have acted presumptuously; we have committed violence; we have framed falsehood; we have counseled evil; we have uttered lies; we have scorned; we have rebelled; we have blasphemed; we have revolted; we have acted perversely; we have transgressed; we have oppressed; we have been stiff-necked." Congratulations, boys. It's only one episode, and you're already batting a thousand.
Chez Soprano. Carmela lies alone in bed, watching a TV news report about a deadly armored-car heist in Pennsylvania. When the reporter names one of the victims and announces that he had ties to the New Jersey mob, she sinks her face into her hands.
By now it's morning, and Tony and Bobby have arrived at Uncle Junior's house. In all fairness, I should mention at this point that, about nine paragraphs ago, it actually stopped being Yom Kippur, and started being shockingly late the following Sunday afternoon. There were also quick stops along the way on Wednesday night, Thursday morning during a particularly boring meeting at work (that was the Rabbi Amnon story), and a brief fever-dream moment in the wee hours of Saturday morning (that was the bit about wanting to see more "titties"). Anyway, Wacky Old Guy greets them at the door, and explains about the mole at Dr. Lurkowitz's office and the fact that Bobby's wife and kids are inside. In you're interested, Bobby's wife is somewhat more attractive than you'd expect her to be, although she does bear a potentially unfortunate resemblance to Angie Bonpensiero. Make of that what you will. Just don't make me type it again. Wacky Old Guy explains that they "had a little scare" with the shunt in Junior's heart. But then "he passed some gas, and he seems better." Heh. Junior is predictably grumpy about having this news spread to the entire world, and his mood doesn't get any better once they start talking about the mole. "I was led around by the nose, Anthony," he laments. "A young cooze smiled at me and birds started chirping. Time was, my instincts never would have failed me like that." Tony tries to console him, and after dismissing Bobby and Wacky Old Guy from the room, he also offers to "help" his uncle by paying $100,000 for a garage Junior owns on -- wait for it -- Frelinghuysen Avenue. Tony finally sits down at the table, and Junior moans, "I'm an old man, Anthony. An old man that's going to trial. Not much else to say about me."
At long last, Melfi's office. "I'm a little depressed," confesses Tony. "You were on vacation." Ah, so that's where she was. Uh huh. Tony goes on to describe his earlier fight with Carmela, and how he also realized that she was right -- things do come to an end. "There's two endings for a high-profile guy like me," he says. "Dead, or in the can. Big percent of the time." When Melfi interrupts to (rightly) ask why he doesn't just quit the business, Tony finishes his train of thought. "There's a third way to wrap it up. You rely only on family." She thinks he means AJ, but that's not what Tony has in mind. "What I've been dealt is my nephew," he explains. "He's got his act together, that kid. And over the last couple of months, I've started the process of bonding him to me inseparably." Of course, what Tony doesn't know is that Christopher is already bonded inseparably to the syringe he keeps under the bed. "Why are you telling me all this?" wonders Melfi. "I don't know," he answers. "I guess…I trust you. A little." (FS2 = 6).