Close-up of Junior's feet, complete with security ankle device, dangling from a doctor's examining table. Tony is inquiring as to whether Junior is okay with him taking over his executive game. Junior reminds him that he doesn't have a choice: "You know I'm under fuckin' house arrest, you cute fuck." Tony makes a beeline for the scale and weighs himself. Not so fast, Fats Waller. "Well then take the bite I give you and be happy. Either way, I'm having the executive game," Tony responds. Junior starts reminiscing, telling Tony that he and Johnny Boy started that game over thirty years ago. He compares their game to credit-card companies' idea that they don't care what you buy as long as you didn't pay it all off at once -- they make their money off of the interest, or "juice." Tony, meanwhile, has figured out he's overweight and is busy looking worried and patting his tummy. Junior mutters that Johnny "was one keen motherfucker." He looks mean all of a sudden, baring his dentures like a pit bull. Tony retorts that if he was so keen, why did he leave them with "chi-chi beans?" Meaning nothing in the way of money, my own keen intellect deduces. Junior says he doesn't know what he's talking about with an evil chuckle. "Your father left Livia with a fucking package that could choke a fucking elephant! I gotta tell you? She's like a woman with a Virginia ham under her arm, crying the blues 'cause she has no bread." Well, well, well. Livia's loaded and didn't say a word. Next we'll find out she's really a man and works for the CIA or something. Junior starts being all mysterious about Johnny paying the freight for someone named Erkle (hee hee -- "Erkle"); he's all forget it, water under the bridge, you think you know everything, some people are so far behind they actually think they're leading, et cetera, and Tony's completely clueless. He gives up prodding and starts to leave, but Junior tells him his name was Hercules -- he was their middle brother, he was retarded and lived in a charity home his whole life. This takes a minute for Tony to process, so Junior calls him sharp as a cue ball. He pontificates about how it was different in those days, that their mother and father couldn't even speak English, that they couldn't take care of him. When Tony acknowledges he was retarded, Junior tells him to go fuck himself -- he was just slow. "Strong as a bull and handsome like George Raft. If it was today they would have trained him to be a whatever, a something. Got him a job. They didn't understand these things back then." This is actually pretty depressing and sad. The guy spent his whole life in a home, and today he could have had a pretty "normal" life. Ah well. Progress, I suppose. "Jesus, what were we thinking," Junior sighs guiltily. Tony is utterly shocked. Then I notice there's a poster of the vascular and visceral systems behind him. It looks like Slim Goodbody -- remember him? He always wore his insides on the outside, painted on a unitard. Ew. Now that I remember that, it seems a bit perverted. In a unitard. Naked. With children. EW. Well, that distracted me from my lament over the treatment of the mentally challenged for a minute. Back to Tony and Junior. Tony remembers arguments Livia had with Johnny about his "feeble-minded brother," but he always thought she meant Junior. Hee hee at Junior's expense. Junior glares at him, and Tony asks when he died. Not long before Johnny Boy. Junior is tired of talking about the past, so he changes the subject back to the executive game and asks what his cut will be. Tony furrows his brow and looks all distraught and confused. I notice they both look fake-bake tan. They haggle over percentages. "Call your friends. Let 'em know the game's happenin'," Tony says, and leaves in a fog. Junior looks upset.