At a bank somewhere, the shady urologist signs off on the deeds for the four houses he's buying before hilariously exclaiming, "Eat my dust, Donald Trump!" in the sort of deadpan tone you'd expect him to reserve for describing a particularly troubling prostate problem.
Meanwhile, in a non-product-placed Hallmark store, Adriana's new and significantly less buxom FBI contact has snuck up on her to ask about Paulie's return from prison. "How does Christopher feel about that?" she inquires. "Paulie likes Christopher," replies Adriana. "They're friends. He lets him smell my underwear." Agent Not Mare Winningham also wants to know how Christopher is doing with his "drug problem." Adriana denies that such a problem even exists, and also demands that Agent Not Mare stop pretending like she actually cares about them. "We're both fine," she insists, before adding, "As a matter of fact, we're thinking about finally getting married." The look of bemused distaste on Agent Not Mare's face after that line makes it seem like she might have just caught a whiff of Adriana's underwear herself.
Cut to Tony and AJ, coming home from a fishing trip to the Jersey shore. I certainly hope they don't plan on eating whatever they caught. I'm sure AJ already got enough hypodermic needles in his Halloween candy this week. Obviously enjoying their pleasant father-son time together, Tony asks if AJ wants to take a little drive. When he agrees, Dad brings him to the very same church where he brought Meadow in the show's first episode. "See that church?" he says. "Your great-grandfather helped build that almost eighty years ago. He was a stonemason, the old man. He came over from Avellino with four dollars in his pocket." AJ's response to this genealogical enlightenment? "Yeah, but I saw in a book where you could get a hotel room for like ten cents a week then. Room service must have been like one or two cents a meal." Hee! And you people in the forums are speculating that AJ might secretly be smart. I don't think so. On the other hand, his response is still at least marginally more clever than Meadow's was, and she goes to an Ivy League college. So who knows? "We're talking about history here," snaps Tony. "Your family's history. Newark's history." AJ: "Well, who gives a shit about Newark?" Heh. Maybe the boy is smart, after all. Tony goes on to extol the virtue of old-style Italian pride and construction ability. "Look at all these buildings around here," he says. "Most of them are falling down into the ground. But that church is still standing. Do you know why?" "The bricks?" answers AJ. Hee, again! In fact, I'm not sure which is funnier, AJ's dumb-guy tone of voice or the exasperated-parent look on Tony's face. Dad tries once again to explain the significance of all this to his child, pointing out that hundreds of Italians drive in every Sunday from all over the state to help keep the church alive. "So how come we never do?" asks AJ, proving that even a blind squirrel can occasionally find a juicy conversational nut. Tony has no answer for that one, so instead he decides to parrot the same advice Cousin Brian gave him earlier. "Buy land, AJ," he says. "'Cuz God ain't making any more of it."