Kim's. Diet Tony is in the break room making new flashcards for himself when Mr. Kim shows up and orders him into the office. Once there, Kim quietly admits that the cops found his truck, and that it appears as though it was stolen by a couple of kids looking for a joy ride. And not, as he had assumed, by a couple of mobsters looking for dirty laundry. Then he offers Diet Tony a seat, and praises him for working so hard on the massage studying. He suggests that Tony open his own massage parlor, but seeing as no character on The Sopranos is ever safe from sly ethnic stereotyping, he actually pronounces it "massage ghageh." It seems that Kim was initially worried that Diet Tony would turn out to be a "lazy American and criminal," but now he's come to be impressed with the way Tony works hard, "like a Korean people." He further reveals that he owns an under-performing travel agency with a three-year lease in a nearby mini-mall. He offers to stake Tony and give him the space for the massage ghageh, but there's just one condition: Tony would have to hire Kim's daughter, who used to be a physical therapist until it was discovered that "cripple people make her sad." Heh. Now she just sits around the house and watches TV all day. And what, may I ask, is wrong with that lifestyle, exactly? I'll have you know that some of us make an excellent living that way. Or at least a decent living. Or maybe some of us are just barely peeking over the poverty line. Either way, Diet Tony is tickled by the offer, and Mr. Kim happily declares that the three of them will now "make the big success journey."
Das Sopranohaus. Carmela, AJ, and Tony have gathered for a family meeting to discuss AJ's newfound desire to move back home. Carmela, however, is skeptical. "This was his idea?" she asks. "He's upset because he don't get the kind of cereal he likes," answers Tony. And to be fair, that can be very upsetting. I still have scars from the morning my sister discovered that I'd eaten all the Golden Gra...wait a second. Am I actually defending AJ? Damn. That's not right. I'd rather eat Grape Nuts, for God's colon. Anyway, here's AJ's take on Corn Flake-gate: "He threw it in the sink! How am I supposed to focus at school with no breakfast? I got dizzy!" Okay, heh, but my God is that kid a brat. AJ also announces that he doesn't want to live in a house where people use violence against children, although it seems somewhat self-evident that any house which contains AJ would eventually end up being a house where people use violence against children. He then threatens to call Social Services and have them send out a case worker to protect him. Carmela tries to put a happy face on things, but now Tony is the one who's pissed. "It's demoralizing," he growls. "That a son of mine would even think about calling in the authorities." Oh yeah, that's how you set a good example. Meadow wanders into the room from out of nowhere, and utters her one, single, solitary line of the week: "Family meeting? Try to stay awake, AJ." Oy. Sing it with me now: Shut up, Meadow. And seriously, what was the point of that? Doesn't Jamie-Lynn DiScala have better things to do with her time? At any rate, Carmela reminds AJ that he said Carmela makes him miserable, and he's got no answer for that. So Carmela ends up doing what she wanted to do all along, and accepts him back. But not without some new ground rules: no parties, no phone calls, no Devon, and no cursing. Aww, Devon. It's good to know she's still alive, although it doesn't exactly speak well of the girl that she's stayed in a long-term relationship with Asshat Jones over here. Carmela finally decrees that she wants AJ to involve her in his life a little, and he sullenly agrees. And now if we could just get Artie out of that place, everything would be perfect.