And speaking of horses, we're back at the track. Tony is there with Cousin Brian, discussing the possibility of setting up a living trust as opposed to the one Carmela wanted. Brian seems pretty understanding, so I'm beginning to doubt whether Carmela had that ulterior motive. And it's clear that Tony is at least trying to do right by her, so maybe there's hope that these crazy kids can work it out. They find Joey Pants and Trainer Lois by the stables, and after the de rigueur rude comment from Joey, Tony asks after the horse's well-being. They discuss strategy for the upcoming race, with Tony agreeing with Lois's suggestion that they let Pie run all out, due to the relatively short distance she'll be covering. I should also mention here that the horse herself is a pretty good actress, because she snorts and turns away just as Joey mouths off to Trainer Lois.
So then I guess maybe Pie was cast for her acting abilities rather than her racing skills, because we're back to the stock footage. This time she leads from wire to wire, and pulls away to win by at least two lengths. Everyone is thrilled, except for Brian, who only bet to show. "What did you win? Five bucks?" giggles Tony. "My financial advisor." Heh. Ever notice how all the pretty people on this show are always stupid? I mean, you've got Brian, Irina, Jackie Jr. -- hell, even Meadow. I'm just saying. "Anthony," says Joey Pants, "once again your horse wisdom is not going unappreciated." He pulls out his wad of cash and lays several bills into the palm of Tony's hand. Tony, however, keeps his hand out until Joey adds even more to the pile. Then he keeps it out even longer, forcing Joey to add a third set of bills. Heh. Tony sighs with a winner's contentment. Joey sighs with an underling's frustration.
Maison de Soprano. Tony comes home to find Carmela giving him the silent treatment in spite of the kitchen full of flowers he sent. Rather than simply tell her that he met with Brian to work on a new trust, he instead cops to the Frelinghuysen Avenue deal, and offers to use the proceeds to buy that stock she wanted. "It's too late," she answers. "It split. We missed it." She clomps up the stairs in disgust, and Tony takes a gigantic plate of meat out of the refrigerator and sits down to eat alone. And for those who were wondering, that's mustard he's dipping it in, not peanut butter.
Meanwhile, a leather-clad Bobby Bacala pulls up in front of a bar that might as well just be called "Irish!" for all the green lettering and shamrocks it's sporting. He heads inside, and sits down beside some random guy at the end of the bar. Pretending to be nothing more than a nice guy with a friendly interest in the joint-fitters union, Bobby strikes up a conversation with the random guy, who turns out to be the shop steward for Local 184. The conversation quickly turns to an upcoming election, with Bobby questioning why anyone would want to vote for Dick Hoffman over whatever Hoffa progeny may be running against him. "The pension has been ripped off for the last twenty-five years," explains Mr. Steward. Which also explains Junior's interest in the election. "You look like a smart guy," replies Bobby, who suddenly looks almost, well, menacing even. "I can see why your local puts their faith in you to do the right thing. I'm just saying, if it was me? I got kids that depend on me. Like yourself. And to waste my votes on somebody like Dick Hoffman, I might as well put a bullet in my head. Here…here…and here." Heh. Go Bobby! Get down with your bad self. Literally. He downs his drink in one swallow, drops a few bills on the bar, and walks out without saying another word. Mr. Steward just sits there and stews.