Cut to nighttime skyline of the Garden State in all its industrial glory, or as we used to say in college, "New Jersey: When Machines Ruled the Earth." The next thing we know, it's morning at The Soprano Compound. Meadow clomps ungracefully down the steps. Someone give that girl a Victoria's Secret catalog, please -- she needs a lot more support, there's way too much jiggling going on. Meadow is sporting messy pigtails and a sour-grapes frown on her face, accompanied by Eric Scatino's SUV sound system blaring metal. She gets into the car and declares she's "so pissed," because Hunter SKANKarello just called her to say Rachel Weiss got in early acceptance to Wesleyan. She's just like her father. She should say "ah salut, good for you." Instead, these two charming youths deduce that she got in because her mother's black. "Please, I'm blacker than her mother," Meadow drones. Ooh. Meadow, that's not such a good thing to say. I'm very disappointed in you. "Well, you should have mentioned that on your application," Eric the Keebler Elf Scatino retorts jauntily. They drive off with much eye-rolling and sighing from Miss Meadow, queen of the pouty-faces.