Or Carmela and AJ studying, for that matter. Except Carmela isn't so much as studying as just reading aloud from the CliffsNotes, and AJ isn't doing anything at all, because he's sound asleep. Mom finally notices her snoozing son, and screams at him to wake up. Uh, I don't think that's really going to help, Carmela. In fact, the boy might actually be smarter in his sleep.
Bada-Bing. The whole crew has gathered to celebrate Steve Buscemi's big find. It's worth noting that every single guy in attendance (including Steve) has a naked stripper goomar on their arm. Everyone except Tony, that is. Hmm. He's been notably celibate lately. What's up with that? And who would have ever thought that Carmela would have had an orgasm more recently than Tony? Unless Tony's been up to something we haven't seen, that is. Speaking of which, Paulie pipes up to as Steve how many guys he has to jerk off on the massage table to earn twelve thousand dollars. "I don't know," answers Steve. "What do you charge without the table?" Everyone laughs, and then the Product Placement office inserts yet another subtle Cristal plug. Cristal: For when you absolutely, positively have to seduce a stripper overnight (and you're not willing just to give the damn money directly to her). Silvio raises his glass for a toast, and announces, "From now on, anytime somebody steps in a pile of shit, it will be known as a Blundetto." And he's right. I've been using that expression all week at work.
While Tony is drinking and ogling the strippers, Carmela and Bob are out for another fancy dinner. She tries to feed him some dessert, but he's not ready, and it ends up smeared all over his face. Then they both turn onto cartoon dogs and start slurping on opposite ends of a spaghetti noodle.
The next day, Carmela is back in her own kitchen, peeling a zucchini. Or a cucumber or a squash or some okra or maybe a gourd of some kind. Whatever. I don't know much about vegetables, but I do know a hilarious castration joke when I see one. So, ha! And also, ow. We pan over to see Tony arriving, and he stands just in the entrance to the kitchen, with his face obscured by the portentous shadows of, well, foreshadowing. Carmela gives a start when she sees him, and then Tony steps all the way into the room and hands over an essay paper that AJ left back at Livia's. "Did you even look at this?" she wonders, as she checks the name on the front of the paper. "Who the hell is Anne Dunham?" Well, Carm, it seems "Anne Dunham" was an expert on Lord of the Flies who wrote an A+ paper three years ago. I'm assuming that means she put something about the boys wearing robes right up in the first paragraph. Tony laughs silently when he realizes what AJ has been up to, and then he pulls those aluminum foil-wrapped leftovers out of the fridge and wonders aloud when Carmela started eating duck. Mom, however, is more interested in complaining about the fact that their son is a cheater. I'm shocked, I tell you. Shocked! So is Tony, but he's more surprised by the fact that AJ would pay for a term paper when he's always "so tight with money."