Das Sopranohaus. Carmela gets a call from some mustachioed divorce lawyer, but he's really only calling to pass on some bad news: he can't take her case because Tony came in for a brief consultation last year, which means that helping her would put him in "a bit of an ethical soup." Wow. I've actually had ethical soup. It's fantastic with matzoh balls. Anyway, Carmela can't understand why Tony is so picky about his legal representation, because he must have met with "seven or eight of the top divorce attorneys in New Jersey." "Well, you can probably figure that maneuver out for yourself," replies the sleaze-stache. He recommends the name of an "uncontaminated" colleague, although personally, I was totally hoping Carmela would hire Melvoin. Now that would be comedy gold. Once Carmela hangs up, we cut outside for a very quick shot of our old friend the unidentified black bear. I can only assume he's still back there searching for his weapons of mass destruction.
Bada Bing. All the boys are hanging out in the back room. Most of them are playing cards, but Silvio is playing pool with Christopher, and discoursing on the death of Joey Peeps. He reports that the cops apparently found brains all over the seat (but not, sadly, cum on the sun visor). "Joey Peeps?" laughs Paulie. "Couldn't have been too much to clean up." Everyone chuckles dutifully, and then Little Paulie adds, "I heard the hooker he was with got it in the chest. Silicone everywhere." "Why you always trying to top me?" bitches Paulie. "You took the air right out of my whole fucking punchline, asshole." Hmm. Shout-out? It is my job, you know. And, aww. Poor Little Paulie. Everyone's so pissed off at him this week. Which isn't all that surprising, I suppose, considering the fate of pretty much everyone else on this show with the word "little" in their name. Acting in his longtime role as Official Crew Mother, Silvio suggests that they all kick in to buy Joey's headstone, and everyone solemnly agrees. What's funny is that they've even got their own "marble guy" on call. That says something, I think. Eventually, Fat Tony and Even Fatter Tony (Siragusa) arrive, and Fat Tony immediately asks to speak with Diet Tony outside. Jesus Christ. Shut up, Tony.
Hmm. I just noticed that there's a place down the street from the Bing called "Party Box." And before the New Jersey people wage yet another email campaign, yes, I know that's not a strip club. But it should be. Fat Tony angrily announces that there was a witness to the Peeps hit, and that everyone now knows the guy who did it has a bad limp. Undeterred by this revelation (and his obvious gimpiness), Diet Tony suggests "Long John Silver" as a possible perpetrator, which I thought was a really lousy choice for a one-legged man joke until I tried to think of a better one, and failed miserably. Then again, typing "famous people with one leg" into Google did return some very interesting results. I don't recommend trying it from work, though. "Where the fuck do you get the balls?" bitches Tony. "I am bending over backwards trying to stay neutral, paying for fucking car seats, and you're out there acting like a fucking free agent!" Diet Tony gives him that hangdog look that Steve Buscemi specializes in, and Fat Tony soon softens significantly. He admits that Diet Tony probably isn't earning what he expected, especially given that he's taking care of the twins and Nancy, not to mention sexing up half of Sesame Street. "You're a capable guy," he adds. "Your mother let it slip one time, you got an IQ of 158." Wow. A Google search on famous peoples' IQs reveals that Diet Tony is smarter than Richard Nixon, Paul Hogan, Madonna, and Koko the Gorilla, but dumber than Leonardo Da Vinci, Bill Gates, Napoleon, Plato, Gandhi, and -- believe it or not -- Marilyn Monroe. I wonder if this means I should start calling him Little Lord Smartypants. "A lot of good it did me," he sighs, but Fat Tony just reiterates how useful all those brains and balls could be to his organization. "Put me in, Coach," answers Diet Tony. "I'm ready to play. Today." Fat Tony considers this for a minute, and then offers his less corpulent cousin control of a casino that's located above a hardware store over on Bloomfield Avenue. He also offers to try to get him "straightened out" by "opening up the books" for him, which apparently means getting him made. They share a manly hug, and...scene.