Once the service ends, Fat Tony races over to apologize to Johnny Sack for the headstone mistake. Johnny, however, has other concerns on his mind. It seems a new witness has come forward, who positively identified Diet Tony as having been in the neighborhood when Joey Peeps got whacked. Johnny starts yelling at Tony, which prompts questioning looks from most of the other mourners, but Tony points out that if anyone deserves Johnny's ire, it would be Little Carmine. Then he suggests that they find a quiet place to talk, because nothing spoils a good funeral like some guy loudly promising to kill half the guests. Trust me. I know.
Tony and Johnny Sack retire to a nearby limousine, where Tony once again advises Johnny to just shake Little Carmine's hand and put the whole mess behind them. He also defends Diet Tony: "You are sincerely mistaken if you think me or my cousin had anything to do with any of this shit." I'm assuming that by "mistaken," he actually means "100% correct," but that's a different story. Tony also claims that the witness who spotted Diet Tony is an unreliable drunken Irishman (though not an unidentified black male), and expresses genuine shock that Johnny would believe a guy like that over a paragon of honesty and integrity like Tony Soprano.
Meanwhile, out in the rain, the New York and New Jersey crews wait for their bosses and make painfully awkward small talk. It's two lines, and maybe ten seconds total, but it's also the funniest scene of the entire episode. You really had to see it, though.
In the limo, Johnny has managed to calm himself a little. "Maybe I'm wrong," says Tony, "but you haven't been yourself since the old man died. Lorraine [the Loan Shark]? And then you sink this idiot's boat? That's not the Johnny Sack I know." Yeah. Because Johnny's always been such a big, cuddly teddy bear. Unless someone mentions his wife's ass, that is. Then Fat Tony spins a giant yarn about how Diet Tony couldn't have whacked Peeps because he was with Fat Tony on a quest to find his mythical...er, "missing" daughter Kelly. "We were upstate," Tony explains. "Monticello. We heard Kelly was living with some fucking crackhead up there." Okay, two things: 1) Tony continues the show's fascination with butchering the names of famous landmarks by pronouncing "Monticello" as "Monty Sello," and 2) my spell-checker keeps wanting to capitalize the word "crackhead" because of my old arch-nemesis Crackhead Cosby. "I swear on my mother," announces Johnny, choking back tears, "if I find out you're lying...." Tony just looks him right in the eye and promises that he's here "humbling" himself out of friendship, and nothing more. Johnny just lets out a hefty sigh, and then climbs out of the limo without saying another word. He does, however, cast a long, angry glance at Diet Tony, who is standing off to one side, completely oblivious. It's never made clear, but I guess we're supposed to assume that Johnny never saw him limping, or there's no way he would have fallen for Tony's bullshit. It's this whole funeral sequence, incidentally, along with the ones of the boys hanging out at the job site, that really lets this episode remind me of makes this show great. It's not the just the writing, and the acting, and the incredible technical craftsmanship, because that stuff is always there, and you sort of take it for granted after a while. But what this episode, and the entire fifth season for that matter, has done really well is balance the mob stories with the family stories in a way that was sorely lacking last year. I don't need to see someone get whacked every week, and I don't want to see Tony and Carmela turn into one-note caricatures who just go through the same old motions, but you can always tell when this show starts taking itself too seriously, because it's the mob stuff that suffers. That said, any episode that gives us Paulie talking about dog shit AND Carmela crying at the sight of Tony in the pool is an A+ plus indeed.