While driving around in his car, Tony gets a call from Angie on his cell phone. She reports on what went down with Phil, and explains that she didn't want to do any extra repairs without checking with Tony first. Here's his incredibly helpful response: "You want to run a body shop, run a body shop. You said you could claim your piece of the garage. You want to be a woman in business, then do what you think the situation calls for?" Wow. That's almost Zen. He brushes off all of her repeated attempts to find out if he'll pay for the extras, and then he basically laughs in her face and hangs up. But hey, at least he didn't smash up her car again, right?
Diet Tony, meanwhile, is getting it on with Dr. Gina. In keeping with the strict sense of decorum that would befit a woman whose day job involves giving comprehensive medical examinations to Muppets ("Turn your head and cough please, Oscar"), Dr. Gina has the black bed sheet pulled all the way up to her neck, lest any of us in the audience get a glimpse of her presumably wholesome and family-friendly nipples. I mean, I understand her concerns, but it almost looks like these two are Orthodox Jews on their wedding night, if you know what I mean, and if you do, you're a dork who paid too much attention in Sunday school. In what I hope for his sake is a meta-reference to his sexual prowess, Diet Tony's cell phone suddenly starts blaring "We Are the Champions," and our chaste little love-fest is interrupted by a call from Tony Soprano. He explains the body shop situation to his clearly annoyed cousin, referring to Phil as "The Shah of Iran" (but not "The Ayatollah of Neck Brace-ola"), and asking Diet Tony to go down there the next day and make sure things don't get out of hand. Diet Tony agrees, and tries to get back to an evening brought to him by the letters S, E, and X, but Regular Tony is in the mood for a little chit-chat. He goes on at length about the weather and his plans to grab an ice cream sundae, while Diet Tony just rolls his eyes and waits for the boss to shut up. In other words, the boss never lets Diet Tony have any fun. That's one of your major themes of the evening. And my life.
Sometime later on, Diet Tony meets with Angelo and Frankie Valli in a restaurant that I'm going to assume is The Four Seasons whether it actually is or not. Frankie reveals that Angelo has spoken highly of Diet Tony, because they were like "Fric and Frac" back in prison. Apropos of almost nothing, I'd just like to announce that I live less than a block from Frick Park. But not, however, on Frack Avenue. That's two streets over. Angelo was also particularly fond of Diet Tony's now famous Jackie Gleason impersonation, and DT is easily persuaded to perform a quick bit for Frankie, who is considerably less impressed. And here's a sentence I never thought I'd write, by the way: Jackie Gleason is totally the new shaven pubic hair. Getting back to the business at hand, Angelo mentions that they've heard Diet Tony might be interested in earning a little extra cash on the side. "Somebody needs to go," whispers Angelo. "Anyone I know?" asks Diet Toe. Frankie insists that it's a New York guy and not New Jersey, and further adds that it's "a friend of a friend. Not a friend of ours." Wouldn't that mean the guy was a civilian? I'm just asking. In this case, however, it indicates that they're talking about a friend of Johnny Sack's. It seems Little Carmine was an old-school chum of the late Lorraine the Loan Shark (you know, from late December, back in '63), and now he wants the guys who whacked her taken out. Diet Tony considers this proposition for a long moment, and then announces that he can't take the job, because he wants to give his cousin "the benefit of the doubt," and Tony has been quite clear about his desire to remain neutral in the New York war. Angelo asks him to think about it, and then Foreshadowing arrives to take their order.