Back at his apartment, Finn is telling the story to a disbelieving Meadow. "[Thin Guy]?" she exclaims. "He's so sweet!" Finn: "Sweet? He was like an animal! A really thin, homophobic animal!" Meadow, however, is more interested in whether Finn plans on eating the dinner she's cooked. It's chili, incidentally, which seems like a somewhat questionable choice when they're both sweltering in the non-air conditioned heat. I'd have expected her to go with the icebox cake again, myself. And unlike most of the people in the forums, I don't have a hard time at all believing that Meadow would cook. She's totally the type to take a lot of pride in being a quote/unquote "successful modern woman" who can still manage to get in touch with her inner Martha Stewart. I'd also bet that chili probably tastes like it was cooked in Wide Guy's armpit. Finn reluctantly caves in and takes a few bites, but he just can't let the violence go. "Is this what you grew up with?" he wonders. "I never saw one bit of violence growing up," insists Meadow. "What about your dad's road rage?" he asks. Heh. Tony does wreck his car a lot. Once a season, in fact, if I'm not mistaken. But Finn isn't finished. "And didn't you tell me once you had a boyfriend who was killed? Shot to death or something?" "First of all, he was killed by drug dealers," she tells him. "African-Americans, if it makes you feel better." Would those be unidentified African-Americans? And yeah, deep down, Meadow probably does know the truth (although not the specifics, or she'd be a bit more worried about Wide Guy), but this isn't the first time she's toed the family line with respect to the Little Lord, and I doubt it will be the last. But she's still Meadow, so she still has to make me want to tell her to shut up: "You know, you talk about these guys like it's an anthropology class. The truth is, they bring certain modes of conflict resolution from all the way back in the old country...where all higher authority was corrupt." Oh, yeah. Of course. I totally remember from my old European History classes about how all conflicts back in ancient Rome were settled with the ceremonial smashing of a Snapple bottle. And then everyone got into their horse-drawn Escalades, and fired up their Apple PowerPapyruses and munched on Snackwells biscotti. Shut up, Meadow.
And now we come to Joey Peep's funeral, which has turned out just about every single member of the New York and New Jersey families. The only surprising absence is Father Intintola, seeing as how he's presided over every other funeral so far this season. I guess his authority must end at the state line. A slow, downward pan takes us from the preacher to the headstone, which simply says "Peeps" in giant granite letters. Hee! Tony can't believe what he's seeing. "'Peeps'?" he gripes to Silvio. "It's a fucking nickname. The family name is Pepparelli." Silvio rolls his eyes, like he knows he fucked up, but still tries to blame it on the fact that the marble guy is dyslexic. Heh. Oh, Little Stevie. You can mug me anytime. A quick montage shows us the reactions of our other major players: Johnny Sack looks alternately sad and furious, Little Carmine looks like he's trying to remember what letter comes after Q in the alphabet, and the New Jersey guys are all shuffling their feet and checking their watches. Well, except for Diet Tony. He's only shuffling one foot.