Little-League game. The kid at bat gets a hit, and everyone in the stands cheers. Whuh? Cut to Tony and Junior in the stands. Tony starts to say something, but Junior interrupts to tell him that "I always thought you could make the pros" and that Tony used to have a swing like DiMaggio's. Tony snorts that he could barely hit .250, and Junior says smugly, "That's because you didn't want it. Too busy chasing skirt. Chasing skirt, your average was .500." "Yeah -- what happened?" Tony wises off. Junior asks what Tony wanted to talk about. "Octavian. You know, Augustus." "You fuckin' with me?" "No. Octavian became Augustus," Tony reminds him. Junior is starting to lose patience with this, so Tony quickly explains that "Augustus was a Caesar, and everybody loved 'im, right -- you know why?" Junior says he doesn't think he gives a fuck, but Tony tells him anyway: "Everybody loved 'im because he never ate alone. Capisce? It was the longest time of peace in Rome's history. He was a fair leader," and his subjects loved him for that. Junior asks if that's the one "they stabbed in the back," and Tony says no, that's Julius: "I'm talkin' about Augustus. He shared his wealth, and all his people loved him." "You've said that three fuckin' times," Junior points out acidly. "I heard it. His people loved him, what's your fuckin' point?" Tony launches into some story about a father bull and his son talking about fucking cows or some damn thing, and Junior laughs and finally gets it, but asks why Tony didn't just come out with it; Tony doesn't know. I don't know either. "Are you okay?" Junior asks him, adding that Tony seems weird lately and Junior hasn't "seen a long face like that since you were a kid." Tony says he's fine, "just bullshit stuff, don't worry about it," and Junior asks again, and Tony says he's fine again and pats Junior's shoulder.
Hesh's farm. Tony tells Hesh that Junior took the $250,000 in back taxes from Hesh and divided it among the top five guys. "Smart move," Hesh says. "Your uncle may turn out to be another Harry Truman." Tony asks what that means, and Hesh says Truman had "a big job thrust upon him" that he didn't want, but in the end he made "some pretty wise decisions," so Junior might grow into his job the same way. Tony hopes so, because he doesn't want the job himself; it gave Jackie cancer, he couldn't take the stress, "fuck it, who needs it," blah bling blah. Hesh studies him but says nothing. Slo-mo shot of the horses. "It's nice here," Tony says. Hesh says he hates the smell, and the shit and the flies everywhere, but he likes to watch the horses run around. "I envy them," Tony says -- they don't have to deal with bills, headaches, family, questions, guilt, and so on. Hesh eyes him warily. Tony catches himself: "I don't know what the fuck I'm talkin' about!" They both laugh. Hesh confirms that Junior plans to spread Hesh's gambling money around. Tony nods, "Yeah." "Five bosses, fifty a pop -- not a bad day's pay," Hesh remarks, obviously fishing for something. Tony nods again, but says, "Still, I wish it wasn't your money…I feel terrible." Hesh peers at him again. They stare at each other until Tony starts laughing and says, "You old fuckin' Jew," and he hands Hesh a wad of cash: "Here's my share." He asks if Hesh really thought Tony would take his cut. "Never entered my mind," Hesh says dryly. How, uh, heartwarming…I guess.