Cut to T's Suburban, screeching to a halt in front of a nondescript office building. Inside, he accosts an unrepentant Johnny Sack, who claims that the beating of Yeoman Donny was a message intended to make Joey Pants, a.k.a. "that foppy cocksucker," aware that Johnny and Carmine know he's been looting the Esplanade. Heh. "Foppy cocksucker" is so my new insult of choice. In fact, I used it on my boss at work just the other day. He was less amused than you might think. "This fucking [Joey] is more creative than Spielberg," continues Johnny, but Tony only cares that it's one of his own employees getting smacked around. Hmm. I wonder if the mob has a human resources department. Anyway, Johnny eventually reveals the real reason behind the beating, and Tony is forced to do a rather pathetic job of pretending he's never heard the "ninety-five-pound mole" comment before. I do note, however, that Johnny, perhaps in a moment of spousal vanity, has shaved five pounds off the weight of the mole in his recollection of the incident. Either way, StTM = 392. Flush with righteous indignation, Johnny delivers a laundry list of all the ways Ginny has tried to fight her weight, including "Weight Watchers," "Richard Simmons," and "fasting." Oddly enough, that's the exact same method I used to write the season premiere recap. "You're telling me how hard it is?" asks Tony, gesturing to his gut. Well, yes. Yes, I am. Sometimes I think people underestimate just how difficult recapping really is.
"It's different for women," continues Johnny, although he's talking about weight, and not recapping. "Body image, self-esteem…I'll tell you though, I never had a problem with Ginny's weight. To me, she's beautiful. Rubenesque. That woman is my life." Aww -- he really does seem sincere. It's nice to know that sociopaths can find love in the strangest of places. You know, like New Jersey. Tony is somewhat moved by Johnny's expression of amour, but even so, he's still not sure that Joey's comment constitutes a hanging offense. Sack reluctantly agrees, and even appears contrite over the beating he administered. "My fucking temper," he concedes. "He married, children, anything?" Tony replies that Yeoman Donny still lives with his mother, and Johnny pledges to "send something nice." They share an awkward hug, and, for the moment at least, things seem to be resolved.
Casa del Soprano. Carmela leads Furio into the kitchen, apologizing for the fact that Tony isn't there to be picked up. Yeah. I'm sure she's so sorry about that one. "So how are things at Casa del Furio?" she asks after pouring him a cup of coffee. Shout-out? Furio complains that his Pakistani neighbor won't allow him convert the garage into a guest house for his parents, and Carmela is delighted at this opportunity to show off her real estate knowledge. She's also apparently been hanging out with Adriana too much, because the leopard prints are starting to spread. If Tony's robe sprouts spots, I'm going to be very, very worried. Grabbing a reference book from the living room, Carmela proceeds to give a long-winded explanation of various deed transfer regulations, but Furio isn't listening. He's too busy gazing longingly at the boss's wife. And hell, if he can't be expected to care about "grantees" and court clerks, then neither can I. What he does care about is that Carmela (and also Tony) will be attending the party he's having "for the housewarming" on Sunday.