Cut to meat, and lots of it. Tony is finally back in his element, working, like, three grills at once. Carmela calls everyone over to the patio, and once they've gathered around, she makes a toast to her father. It's very sweet, if a bit Hallmark Hall of Fame, and Pa is almost moved to tears. After hugging his daughter, Pa immediately turns to Tony, and thanks him for having everyone in his home. Carmela raises an eyebrow at this, but lets it go, mostly because Pa has already moved on to thanking Ma for putting up with Pa for all these years. They kiss, and she wipes the tears from his eyes, and it's actually touching enough to make me like the both of them for one brief, shining moment. "And thank all you freeloaders for coming," Pa adds, which gets way more laughs that that joke deserves. Carmela suggests that they start opening gifts, but Ma worries that enjoying the thoughtfulness of others might seem "mercenary." "Well, good," replies Carmela. "People spent money on them." Tony makes sure his gift is first, and it turns out to be a huge, rectangular felt-lined box. "A Stratocaster?" wonders Finn. Oy. Of course, Meadow always did like them dumb. Which is why I always liked Lauren Ambrose. The gift is actually a Giubileo 12-Gauge Baretta shotgun, which I'm told by my hunting-fanatic co-worker is a very, very nice one. Pa absolutely loves it.
Elsewhere, Diet Tony, his kids, his mother, and Christopher's mother (Joanne Blundetto, in case you've forgotten) are sullenly camped out at table in the back. "Nice to have money," gripes Diet Tony, as he watches the gifts. Then he sends his kids to get him another beer. They're drinking Western Pennsylvania-produced Rolling Rock, by the way. Shout-out or product-placement? You be the judge. "What time did you start drinking today?" asks Mama Blundetto. "Probably right after you got up," snarks Joanne. Heh. Then Carmela calls DT back to his camcorder duties, and he grumpily gets up to comply. Been there, done that.
On the patio, Pa has finally gotten the gun assembled, much to the delight of the gathered crowd. If this were Six Feet Under, it totally would have gone off accidentally and killed Dr. Fegoli by now. It's still The Sopranos, however, so instead we just get a close-up of cousin Brian, so we can all be sure it actually is cousin Brian, and not Thin Guy or Jerry or Fabio, what with the billowing white silk shirt the dude is wearing. Tony jokes that he expects a freezer full of venison by the end of the year, and I have to admit that I was a little bit spooked by the extended, excessively-detailed guns and ammo discussion that line prompted in the forums this week. If I'd known how many gun nuts there were amongst you, I'd have been a lot more careful with the ban button. Clearly bored by the boys and their toys, Diet Tony starts goofing off and filming stuff like Tony's gut and Carmela's ass. You know, I once lent my camera to the best man for about fifteen minutes at a wedding, and when I went back to check the tape, I found an uninterrupted, fifteen minute shot of the bride's cleavage. Who wants to guess whether that marriage lasted?