Even later that same night, Carmela does the drive of shame, pulling her station wagon into the empty garage. She sneaks past AJ's room, and we can hear him on the phone in there (swearing and probably talking to Devon, no less), so, like, nice parenting, slut. She finally makes it into her own room, where she changes into a nightgown and climbs into bed. Once there, she glances over at the nightstand, where she spots a photo of Tony and AJ on a fishing trip. I'll spare you all another trip into my well of Freudian imagery, but please do note this as yet another instance of this show's long-running piscine motif. After some thought, Carmela hops out of bed, heads downstairs, and retrieves a pistol from the hidden gun cabinet. And yes, the grenade is still there. It's been moved a bit since last we saw it, but I don't think it's unreasonable to assume that Little Paulie or Vinnie Delpino would have taken that bad boy out at least once for a quick look-see back when they were on bear patrol. At any rate, the grenade has now been shown in Act I and Act II, so the Act III explosion must be coming, right? Right? Carmela heads back upstairs with the gun, which she tucks under the pillow on Tony's side of the bed. The ostensible reason for this, of course, is that she's scared that Tony might come after her if he found out about Bob. Personally, I'm not so sure. After all, she already told Wegler that she wasn't worried about her own life, and if Tony wouldn't even hit her upon finding out about Furio (a guy Tony actually respected), I don't know why she thinks he'd be even more pissed about a pissant like Bob. I tend believe that she thinks of the gun almost as a surrogate Tony. She misses him a bit here, and that's the image she has of him in her head, so that's what she wants on his side of the bed. It's also easy to rationalize away as simple fear, and Carmela loves nothing more than a good rationalization. Well, maybe oral sex, but we'll get to that later.
Whew. After ten straight minutes of The Carmela & Bob Show, we cut to Diet Tony, making his way through the massage licensing test. Then we see him out in the lobby, waiting for his score with Dr. Gina. The whole scene has a very Beetlejuice-y sort of flavor to it, which is only compounded when the proctor emerges and calls out Diet Tony's number: "56247373211." I've subjected that sequence to a variety of mathematical calculations, and I can't find anything funny about it at all. I did, however, giggle a bit when the proctor uses over thirty-two words -- none of which is "passed," and one of which is "licensure" -- to tell Diet Tony that he passed the test. Tony doesn't even get it at first, and Dr. Gina has to confirm it for him. They hug. He's ecstatic.