Tony at a nursery, trying to get the guy at the counter to give him some illegal DDT. It's not working, but Tony gets distracted by the sight of Jeremy's father and calls out to him. After a bit of small-talk, during which Mr. Piocosta uneasily eyes the axe in Tony's hand, Tony suggests that the fathers and sons get together for a barbecue, and Mr. Piocosta stammers that he doesn't think the boys "are close anymore" and tries to get out of it, but Tony doesn't get the hint, so Mr. P makes "that's great" noises and basically runs away from him. Real subtle, Mr. P.
At home, Tony starts to put away groceries, but only gets through one bottle of product-placed Mott's before getting the heebies and keeling over. Carmela comes running downstairs to help him, saying she thought the medication would help the panic attacks. "It does," Tony gasps, sitting down at the breakfast bar, and Carmela clucks that the doctor should increase Tony's dosage. Tony says he'll take care of it. Carmela asks if the therapist asks questions "about our marriage," and then covers for that inappropriate show of curiosity by saying that she knows Tony has a hard time talking about personal feelings. Tony bitches that "that's all we do is talk," then looks away: "Carm, I'm gonna quit." "Did you bring this up with him?" she asks (she still thinks Tony's therapist is a man). "He knows, I guess." Then Tony realizes (or says he does in an attempt to get rid of Carmela) that he forgot to take his Prozac that morning, and he asks Carmela to go get it for him, but Carmela doesn't go right away, staring at him blankly for a moment and brushing her intricate bangs out of her face with one long fingernail before saying she knows that, with Jackie sick, Tony's "under tremendous pressure," but she thinks that if therapy didn't hurt, "it wouldn't be helping." Tony says she doesn't understand, and Carmela gets angry and says that if he gives up now, she's "gonna have to reevaluate things." An irritated Tony reminds her that he doesn't have the average job, so he can't just de-stress about it like an average guy: "I gotta spell it out for you?" "It's our marriage, Tony!" she shrews, but Tony snarls, "It's too much exposure." She snarls back that fine, then, he can live with the results. Tony raises his brows: "What is that, a threat?" "No, Tony, it's a rave review," she snipes. "Get your own fucking pills." She stomps off, and Tony shakes his head.