Elsewhere in New Jersey, Johnny Sack comes home to find Sal Vitro mowing his lawn. And no, it's not because Paulie is still trying to get in good with Johnny Sack. That ended last year when he found out that Johnny was lying about Carmine. Sal's presence is the nice thing Tony said he would have to do for Johnny, and it's also what he said he wanted to talk to Paulie about. And I can't believe I just wrote that much about a scene that's less than ten seconds long.
And finally, we end the night at Junior's Joint, as Tony comes over to make amends. Junior is on the sofa, watching a nature show that appears to be about prairie dogs fucking. If there's supposed to be some subtext there, I'm totally missing it. Tony sits down beside him, and reveals that he talked to Junior's doctor about the strokes. Junior, however, thinks he means Kennedy the cancer doctor, who was last seen getting menaced by Furio and an angry swarm of hat-loving bees. "Just take your medicine," sighs Tony. "It'll make you feel better. Help with your memory." "Believe me," replies Junior. "There's a lot I'd like to forget." "You and me both," Tony agrees. Then he notices a bag from Feech's bakery on the table, and is once again miffed that his new nemesis keeps popping up in unexpected places. Junior chides Tony for ruling against Feech on the landscaping, and justifies his involvement in the issue by saying that he's still the boss of the Soprano family, "despite any arrangements." Tony chooses not to fight that particular battle at the moment, and they both settle back to watch the prairie-dog porn for a while. There is that one issue Tony just can't let go of, however, and that's the varsity athlete stuff. He's willing to agree that Junior probably didn't know what he was saying when kept repeating that, but he's still stuck on one question: "Why's it gotta be something mean? Why can't you repeat something good?" Junior doesn't have an answer for that one, so he tries to turn Tony's attention back to the TV. It doesn't work, though, and Tony finally expresses the raw hurt he's been bottling up since high school. "I mean, don't you love me?" he asks, his voice quavering. But Junior doesn't have an answer for that question either, and as Tony finds himself utterly unloved, and Junior realizes the end is near, they both settle back into the sofa to ponder silently how infarctions and infidelity could have ever brought them to this.