A knock at the door, and Christopher opens it to find Davey. What is he, a complete nut case? My God. When Tony tells you to stay away from the game, STAY AWAY FROM THE GAME, for God's sake. Davey asks for Tony, Christopher's all do I know you? Davey's all I'm Mr. Big-Shot Sporting-Goods Man and proceeds to peek inside like a little boy. He gets a load of Frank Sinatra Jr. and Christopher scowls and closes the door on him. Tony comes out and is all happy to see you, they shake hands; Davey's all I was just passing by. Whatever, you're such the goober. He compliments the hotel, and Tony jokes that it's a regular Taj Mahal. Davey makes small talk about Eric and Meadow singing, Tony says, "If I never hear that song again it'll be too soon," and Miss Parker shouts Amen! to that. Davey's all Eric's light in the arts, this'll help him get into college, and there's an awkward silence and both men sigh. After I move to a retirement home, Davey finally gets to the point and asks what the game is, and if that was really Frank Sinatra Jr. Tony makes light of it, says he flies in special and he's a friend of Uncle Junior's. "So, whaddaya think?" Davey says slyly (he thinks). Tony still doesn't get how insane this guy is, and says "there's a resemblance," thinking he's talking about Frank Jr. Davey has the balls to ask Tony if he thinks he can "take these guys." Tony sees the jig is up and starts to move to the door while telling him over and over that this isn't a game for him. Davey gets all desperate and whiny and blathers what are the chances I'll get close to a game like this again, let me sit in, whine whine, bitch bitch. Tony insists, wisely, with a forceful pat on Davey's arm, that he doesn't do business with outside friends. Davey thinks he'll do better by calling Tony "Anthony" and talking about high-school prom pictures, memories memories, we go way back, et cetera, passive-aggressive guilt. "I'm a big boy," he says, in a voice coated with con artisanship and testosterone, but when Tony finally asks what he's holding (meaning how much money does he have to play with), he makes excuses -- he assumed he wouldn't be allowed to play, so in other words, he has no dough. Tony reminds him he needs five c's just to sit in and moves away, mistakenly thinking the conversation is over. Davey is like a puppy on his heels, begging Tony to lend him the money, "short-term." This guy is the stupidest man alive, I've decided. Tony warns him not to say short if he doesn't mean short, and Davey's all come on, I mean it, you don't have to explain business to me. He stands there with all the confidence of a drooling gambling addict and they go inside. Tony must have lost his mind, his marbles, and his muscle inside and they have to go get them.