Tony goes out to find Hesh getting out of his car. "What's up?" "Let's walk," Hesh says. "I'd like to show off this safari shirt." Okay, he doesn't say that last part. And he shouldn't. "That serious?" Tony asks. On the sidewalk, Hesh asks Tony if he's spoken to his uncle lately. "Junior? Yeah. No…I don't know, why, what's up?" "Your father was a fair man, Tony." Tony wants to know what that's got to do with Junior. "Junior's not so fair." Tony wants Hesh to get to the point. "He's taxing me, Tony." Tony slows down in disbelief. "He's taxing you? When did this happen?" "Today." Tony, getting angrier, asks if Hesh told Junior that he's operated for years without tax, that Johnny "loved you and respected you," that ten percent that goes to Junior comes from Hesh's "shylock business." Hesh looks down and shakes his head. Tony bitches that "my uncle's been boss of the family ten fuckin' minutes, already I got agita." Tony puts his hands on his hips and fumes, "What'd you tell 'im?" "I told him the truth," Hesh shrugs, "it's a reasonable request but an unreasonable figure." Tony wants Hesh to hold on: "Whaddya mean it's a reasonable request?" "He's the boss now, Tony," Hesh tells him gently, and if Junior calls the tune, they all dance to it: "That's the way it's always been done." He goes on to say that people can either respect the past or change the rules, but he came over to tell Tony that, "with all this bullshit going on," he doesn't know if he can stick around. "Oh yeah? Where you gonna go?" Hesh reminds Tony that he can sit on his royalty checks; he did write six gold records, after all. Tony in turn reminds Hesh that six black kids wrote the gold records, but Hesh owned the company and treated himself to a co-writing credit. Hesh just smiles. Tony says, "Besides, I know you -- you leave this action, you're gonna kill yourself." He asks how much Junior wants. "Five hundred large, plus two points monthly on my shy," Hesh tells him; Tony winces. Then he starts chuckling -- whether out of sheer frustration or because he sort of respects Junior's cold-bloodedness, I can't say -- and tells Hesh to "sit tight for now." Hesh nods and walks away. Tony mulls.
Casa Soprano. Crickets chirp. Tony and Carmela sleep. We zoom in on Tony, then zoom out again to see him in Irina's bed, surrounded by lit candles; a doo-wop group croons on the soundtrack. Tony comes to and finds a figure draped in the black satin sheet making its way down his torso. The figure starts doing her thing under the sheet; Tony grins and clutches the sheets and sings along with the song. Gee -- I can't imagine who's under that sheet! Oh, wait. I can. Because I've just spent the last hour watching Foreshadowing try on my clothes. More doo-wop. More Tony squirming in ecstasy. After the Lewinsky is finished, the figure under the sheet asks, "How was that, baby?" "The best…you are the best," Tony pants, and he pulls the sheet away from the figure and smoothes back her hair to reveal -- ta da! -- Melfi. Lorraine Bracco does actually bear a slight resemblance to Irina in this shot, but I imagine that isn't really the point. As Tony shudders and tries to sit up, Melfi says in a weird dubbed Russian accent, "Tony, I love your cannoli." He wakes up with a start to hear Carmela asking, "Are you okay?" He tells her to go back to sleep and sits up to get his bearings. "You sure you're all right?" she asks again.