At the brokerage, Christopher is apologizing for the Monkey Boys' behavior. Then he calls them into the office for a stern dressing-down. He asks them to refresh his memory on the Wabistix thing, which immediately translates to "please provide much needed exposition on this subplot." They explain the concept of "pump-and-dump," and how they're pawning all the stock off on old ladies. It's up to eighty, though, and they want to sell. Christopher teaches a little Racketeering 101, laying down the primary rule: "When you're bleeding a guy, you don't bleed him dry right away. You wait, so you can bleed him next week, and the week after." Before I can get nervous at the prospect of a leech-related subplot, Christopher goes on to tell them, "If any more Porsches disappear, make it two towns over, and I want a taste." "You're the man," answers the less hairy Monkey Boy (a.k.a. Mr. A Bronx Tale), and I'm forced to add the "now, dawg" part myself.
Janice and Meadow arrive at Livia's hospital room. Janice leaves to get something from the cafeteria, and Meadow goes over to chat. Fade to later, as Meadow tries to feed her something off a tray. "Just let me die," croaks Livia, and while it probably doesn't sound like it here, major heh. I'm saving my Nancy Marchand tribute for the real season-premiere recap, but man, she will be missed. She goes on, "I saw a light. Voices calling out to me." Meadow pretty much ignores this and asks if she's heard from Tony. "That one. He blames me for everything," she says. "Yeah, me too," responds Meadow, and they hug. It's a nice moment that gets spoiled by the hideously awful dubbing of Meadow's next line, which is also too lame to repeat here. Livia tells Meadow to take what's in the drawer beside her bed, and it turns out to be a ring that belonged to her (Livia's) grandmother. "It's so you won't forget me." Meadow is obviously moved by this gesture, and there's more hugging and crying.
Cut to Tony in his Suburban, and he's rocking out to "Smoke on the Water." That's odd. I always thought of Tony as more of a Steely Dan kind of guy. I mean, someone's got to be listening to them, right? Someone? Anyone? Anyway, Tony is totally grooving as he cruises along, but then the CD starts to skip. He bangs on the dashboard in anger, but it keeps skipping. As he huffs and puffs and smacks the dash, he starts having a panic attack. The music slows down in concert with his breathing, and we see the Suburban smack into a telephone pole just as the music kicks back into gear. Pan up to a beautifully composed shot of Tony, unconscious against the airbag, with a highway overpass running behind him. You know, the writers on this show get a lot of credit (and deservedly so), but I'd just like to take this opportunity to give it up for the directors and editors. That sequence was pure craftsmanship, and those guys never get the good press they deserve (especially lately).