The Sopranos (1999–2007): Season 6, Episode 20 - The Blue Comet - full transcript

Fuck you doing?
Scared the piss out of me.

Some things you don't
get into over the phone.

Got it.
Lorraine's at mass.

- Watch out for Spencer.
- Who?

Her fucking toy terrier's
a shit machine.

I talked to some of the guys
about your misgivings.

Yeah?

Listen, I've made a decision.

Take a walk in there.

What the fuck you waiting for?
Get lost.

Historically, Carmine
always said the Sopranos

are nothing more
than a glorified crew.

Plain and simple, we decapitate

and we do business
with whatever's left.

- What?
- Nothing.

I agree in spirit,
but I gotta counsel.

This thing should have been done
during John's era.

They got redundant
upper management...

bleeds off half the kick.

We take 'em out,
absorb the whole fucking thing.

Take out an entire
fucking family?

Let me tell you
a couple or three things:

Forget Coco.
Forget Fat Dom

who goes over to Jersey
and never comes back.

Forget my brother Billy.

Phil, Phil, that's not
what I'm saying at all.

Anthony Soprano has
no respect for this thing.

He's never been
in the can, not really.

He's a guy who stepped over
his own uncle to grab the big seat...

his father's brother.

- Please, huh?
- I'm embarrassed.

I let him come to the hospital
last Christmas.

And I took his fat fucking hand
in friendship.

Philly, you had a heart attack.

Listen to me. They make anybody
and everybody over there.

And the way that they do it is all
fucked up.

Guys don't get
their finger pricked.

There's no sword
and gun on the table.

- Phil.
- No, Alb.

Either it has meaning
or no meaning.

And the Vito thing...
the man harbors a faggot.

- It's true.
- Five fucking families.

And we got this other
pygmy thing over in Jersey.

There's no scraps
in my scrapbook.

Make it happen.

I like the way she
played basketball yesterday.

Almost got my first
hard-on in, like, a month.

Jesus, what's the meaning
of quiet time around here?

- Rhiannon?
- A.J.?

Jesus.

What are you doing here?

You first.

I have some food issues,
depression.

- You keep up with Hernan?
- He's a fucking slimeball.

I caught him finger-banging
my cousin on the ski lift.

Well, somebody said
you were modeling.

Yeah, I guess.

I signed with Elite.

So you would say he's responding
to the therapy.

Well, we don't do
traditional therapy per se.

Kids in crisis mostly need
an environment of calm,

no stresses.

Do you want this?
Or I can pop it in the mail.

Just one more week of this.

$2,200 a fucking day.

Gabagool', provolone

And vinegar peppers.

You believe this
fucking weather?

End times, huh?
Ready for the rapture.

How's the anti terror going?

Great if you don't like sleeping,
eating or seeing your kids.

Listen, those Arabs
from the Bing...

- Mm-hmm.
- Let me ask you the truth.

They're in Jordan, right,
getting their balls zapped?

You're not gonna tell me?

I'm not really sure.
For all we know,

they may be harmless
pistachio salesmen.

Don't get so bent out of shape.
You're a big boy, Tony.

You know, World War II,
your outfit protected

the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

You think Roosevelt
told Vito Genovese

- where Hitler was holed up?
- Go fuck yourself.

Tony, Tony, hold up.

Tony.

What?

Look, I appreciate what you did
giving us those names.

In fact, I've been
sitting here thinking...

Remember that thing I told you
about that was supposed to happen

about a year ago,
your problem with Brooklyn?

It's on again possibly.

You, maybe people close to you.

If it was real solid, you would
have been warned officially

by the Newark office,
but my colleague in Brooklyn,

the one with the collaborator,

snitch is implying the wheels
have already been set in motion.

Implying.

Where the fuck you been?

Krista fell off
her shoes last night.

We had to call an ambulance.

I had some shit
I was taking care of.

You're gonna want a snort.

Come on, I just
finished my bialy.

Take it.

Burt Gervasi, he's gone.

What happened?

I didn't want to overload you
with A.J. in the hospital.

I don't wanna
hear that. Go.

Burt let me know
the other night

he's been playing both
sides of the fence with New York.

- Burt?
- Measures were taken.

Burt wasn't speaking
for just himself.

Guys are getting squeezed hard

to sway them towards
new management.

They thought you'd
be a part of it.

And he got an answer.

My hope is maybe now
Phil gets the message.

You know,
we can talk this shit through.

Talk?

Talking about Phil.

We're gonna hit first.

And this all dovetails with other
information I got that this cocksucker

already has a target
on my back.

It's a big move.

So...

Buddha.

When he stuck you
with the tab for Vito Jr.,

I said let it go.

Obviously, truth is,
a fuck like Phil,

appeasement don't work.

Oh, yeah.

Three pops
within a tight time frame,

24 hours, so there's no chance
for them to hit back.

Top three guys.

- Paulie Gaultieri?
- No, management.

Tony Soprano, obviously,

Plus Silvio Dante
and we think Bobby Baccalieri.

That mortadella's number three?

He used to be
Junior Soprano's driver.

And you used to sell laser printers
out the back of your Crown Vic.

- You really slept.
- Yeah.

I wasn't asleep.

You want some oatmeal?
I'll make some.

You want instant or the real thing?
I have half and half.

I can't find my belt.

It must be up there somewhere.

What?
You hid it.

I'll make the real thing.

- You'll let me know when it's ready?
- Sure.

You know,
my game has got...

Code six.
I have a casualty. He's urgent.

In response,

the insurgents unleash
a devastating wave

of IEDs

and suicide bombers.

Who got hit?
You got contact with them?

On a small but deadly road...

Who's that gunner right there?

Anthony.

Regarding our friend
with the gray hair...

I thought about it.
I want you to call ltaly,

get some cousins of ours over.

Who you want to run the thing?

Got it.

Gotta get some tires
for Carmela's car.

The wine's amazing.

Jennifer's our resident
Italian wine expert.

Is Megan still in Prague,
Stace?

Jesus, her love life. The girl she was
involved with, Cecily,

she's now having a torrid
pen-and-paper relationship

with an armed robber in Attica.

What is this fascination
with criminals?

Rescue fantasy.
They think they can fix them.

I'm worried for Cecily.

So l Googled any new stuff
on sociopathic personalities.

Apparently, the talking cure

actually helps them
become better criminals.

It was fascinating.

The study was
by Yochelson and Samenow.

Studies turn around
every few years.

This other, I think it was
Robert Hare,

suggested that sociopaths

actually quite glibly

engage on key issues,
like mother, family.

I seem to remember that
from residency.

Me too, and l've read Hare,

but who's a true sociopath?

I had a guy
at the state asylum,

slow poisoner.
They even mimic empathy.

They blubber and cry.

Did you put her up to this?

She just happened
to mention this study?

- Who? Me?
- Everything okay down there?

I don't know.

It's a study.
Food for thought.

She's blowing us off.

You just can't resist
rubbing my face in it.

I feel like
we should change the subject.

I only suggested you
reevaluate your work

with Leadbelly
or be prepared to deal with moral

and possibly
legal consequences.

- Leadbelly?
- Who's that? Come on.

The answer is
a female opera singer

and gangster...

Elliot!

Soprano.

- Tony Soprano? He's your patient?
- Wow.

- That's pretty cool.
- Jesus Christ, Elliot.

Chill out.
We're among friends.

We're all professionals.

So what's your verdict
on the wine, Jen?

All Italians have big noses.

If l had made that joke
about other groups

represented at this table,

I would be called a bigot.

I meant ltalian reds.

Still, it must be
fascinating work.

It is.

Have a seat.

- What's up?
- Phil Leotardo.

Calls were made to zips.
They're coming over from Naples.

You contact the guy
to contact the guys.

Phil's at his goomar's
every Friday night.

- T know about this?
- What?

- What kind of question is that?
- Watch your fat fucking mouth.

Hey, whoa whoa whoa whoa.
What are you concerned about?

I lived through the '70s
by the skin of my nuts

when the Columbos
were going at it.

There ain't a bigger cocksucker
than Phil Leotardo.

I just wanna make sure
somebody knows

There could be a line
of Cozarellis a mile long.

Duly noted. So there's
no problem then.

Don't worry about them.

Paulie, those guys are outside.

Fuck you talking so loud for?

Don't discuss this
until we're in the piscia dun.

It's all yours.

I just picked 'em up
at the airport.

Anthony.

So what do you clear
a year around here?

I don't mean to pry, you know,
just round numbers.

I'm asking
because Meadow...

well, I told you she's taking
pre-med classes...

well, she's not
gonna be a doctor.

She told us.

It's kind of sad, isn't it?

Depends.

It's just a nice thing to be,

helping sick babies.

Her change of heart
bothers you?

Her mother too,
much more than me.

I mean,
all that worrying...

which private school,
Columbia University,

this and that, and in the end

she'll get married,
squeeze out some kids

after what, a couple years
in the work force?

- I'm still working.
- Yeah, but you're divorced.

Criminal law,
that's what she's taking up.

And I told Carmela,
it's not the end of the world.

She's interested

In civil rights...

Muslims and blacks

and that and a dime.

Hopefully, she'll wind up
at a big firm...

white-collar crime.

Just, you know,

Dr. Soprano.

Sounds nice.

Your parents must
have been very proud.

I think so.

Look at all the people
like me you've helped.

With all the human suffering
in this world,

you've done
something important...

Like those people

who are trying to help my son.

God bless 'em.

$2,000 a day in that place,

but if it helps...

and as you know,
my plumbers' union insurance

only covers 10% of mental.

He's really hurting...

A.J.

And you?

Although, maybe,
you know...

you know what? Forget his hurts.
Maybe I should have just...

Put your shoe up his ass?

Yeah yeah, frankly.

Well, we talked about this.

Untalked about it.

Huh?

- Anyway, Carmela...
- Mollycoddled him.

- My old man...
- Are you a shining example

for the huge collection
of wingtips and loafers

that must be lodged up
your lower bowel?

What's the matter with you?

Is it because l said
that about being divorced?

You were saying.

He's my only son.

He's young. Most of the time
they pull out of this.

But l've been depressed for years.
What if he don't pull out?

So the boy who never cared

about anything

now cares about too much.

Yeah, I guess.

And the daughter,
like all females,

ultimately somehow disappoints.

- I didn't say that.
- Oh.

What's with the tone?

You sound like you're glad

I'm taking it on the chin.

Maybe you're projecting
hostile feelings.

Bullshit.
If we had instant replay,

you'd see it in two seconds.

Well, we don't have
instant replay.

I know that. Jesus Christ,
you sound like my fucking wife.

- Your "fucking wife."
- You know what l mean.

The "Departures"
magazine out there,

did you give any thought at all

to someone else
who might wanna read it

- before you tore out the entire page?
- What?

It's not the first time
you've defaced my reading materials.

You saw that, huh?

People tear shit out
of your magazines all the time.

They're a mess.
I try to read 'em.

I don't think I can help you.

Well, change 'em.
Bring in some new shit.

I mean, therapeutically.

What are you talking about?

I've only missed three appointments
since we had that heart-to-heart.

The new big thing
these days is called

"psychodynamic therapy"

combined with Anafranil.

- Who?
- A medication.

There's a doctor in Bloomfield
you could see.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa, okay.

Now what the fuck is this?

You're firing me

'cause I defaced
your "Departures" magazine?

I'm giving you my considered
medical opinion.

Okay, l should have asked you

for the steak recipe.

And missing sessions, unfortunately,
is part of my condition.

What do you know
about your condition?

You miss appointments because
you don't give a shit

about commitments,
about what l do,

about the body of work
that's gone into

building up this science.

Go ahead, tell me again
I sound like your wife.

Well, if the shoe fits...

We're making progress.
It's been seven years.

Do you want some names?

Okay, listen, I'm gonna tell
you something

and you're not gonna like it,

but we can say anything
in here, right?

Go ahead!

I'm chalking this all up

to female menopausal
situations.

You're not my gynecologist.

Well, you don't need a gynecologist
to know which way the wind blows.

So wait a minute,

you're telling me

after all this time,

after everything
we shared in here,

you're cutting me loose
just as my son got out of the hospital

for trying to kill himself?

Since you are in crisis,

I don't want to waste
your time.

I'm gonna be fucking honest.

As a doctor,

I think what you're
doing is immoral.

Yes.

D.H.L.

Package-a,

D.H.L. Express
for Mr. Philip.

For sign.

Yeah.

- Yeah.
- It's done.

I think the love interest
got in the way, though.

Couldn't be helped apparently.

You ever see Phil
with the goomar?

Once maybe.
Why?

Could he talk to her
in Ukrainian?

Ukrainian?
The fuck do I know?

I gotta go.

Paulie, it's done.

Listen, I...

I quit therapy.

And this time
I'm never going back.

Except for that slight
improvement around the shooting,

she wasn't doing you
much good anyway.

Here we go.

- Hi, strangers, how are you?
- How are you?

- Good, not bad.
- Good good.

There they are.

So Mead' was in here

With Patrick Parisi.

- Yeah.
- We are very happy.

Very happy.

Is it true what she said?
She's quitting pre-med?

Yes, thank God.
We are so relieved.

You know, with AlDS and...

It's not just that.

I don't know one doctor
who is advising his children

to go into medicine.
Between the insurance companies

over their shoulder,

the hospitals
are making cutbacks...

She'd have been good
at it, though, Mead'.

Always intellectually
curious, even as a tyke.

But does compassion
come naturally to her?

Patience?
I'm not so sure.

What are you talking about?

So what is she gonna do now?

- Well...
- Law.

- Oh!
- Constitutional law.

- Oh!
- Oh, wow.

What about A.J.?
How's he doing?

- He's good. He's good.
- Good.

Ton', you know
who's in tonight?

"Mangenius."

He's the jets coach, sweetie.

- I should go say hello.
- Okay.

So Mead' and Patrick Parisi?

Little awkward though, maybe.

Patsy still works for Tony.
He's an underling.

Cupid's dart lands, you know?

I'm gonna send some
limoncellos over in celebration.

Great.

You don't answer
your fucking phone?

- I tried you 50 times last night.
- Nah, we shut 'em off.

Gab came down
with a terrible case of food poisoning.

You can pass the word upstairs.

- The gray goose is gone.
- Good.

Apparently, the goomar had
to be taken out too.

But l say, who gives a fuck?

Remember that drunken fucking scene
she caused at the "Jersey Boys" party?

I actually felt bad for Phil.

What's the matter?

Whenever I think
of that fucking play,

I picture Ma dying alone

like a dog on that bus.

You're gonna make someone happy
with this news today.

Think l'll ask
for some time off.

Hey, who does this
look like? Look.

Don't cry. Good little
girls don't cry. Babies cry.

Hey.

- How's it going?
- Good.

Have my card game.

Carm volunteered to take Nica.

Emptying the pool, huh?

- Cost a fortune to heat.
- Yeah.

What can I do you for?

Had a call from Mario Diaco.

- Who's that?
- Uncle Jun's accountant,

The one with the artificial voice box,
says he's been trying to reach you

for two weeks.

Uncle Jun's finally
out of money.

They think that maybe
there's some squirreled around,

but he can't remember.

It's a fucking sin, isn't it?

Plus, with the larynx,
he thinks Mario's

from outer space, so...

The upshot is he can't pay

for living at Wycoff
Psychiatric anymore,

and they're gonna move him
to a state facility.

I know, Tony,

but Jesus, those fucking
places are snake pits.

Then he'll make
some new friends.

I understand.

You gonna bail him out?

We don't have that kind of money.
We'd contribute.

Bobby feels...

you know.

Right.

You got a lot of balls
coming to me.

And as for your husband,
Janice,

- "Exile on Main Street."
- Don't say that.

You trust a guy,
you bring him along

and for what?

He feels sorry for Junior?

Bullshit.

Ton', it's bad news.

Paulie said he wants
it known it's on him,

he takes full responsibility,

but that he didn't do nothing.

Shit.

Yeah, nobody,

I mean nobody,
knows where the fuck Phil is,

four, five days now.

So we never really had
a shot at him.

How about the house in Florida?

I had Beans send somebody past.

The house is all shuttered up.

He put everything in place,
his moves on us.

He goes into hiding,
waits it out.

Going to ground, they call it.

Who?

It's an expression.

Who knows what the fuck
he's got planned exactly.

You get word to everybody:
Eyes in the back of your head,

break routines, collections,
all that shit.

You tell everybody.

Got it.

In the meantime, we keep trying.
Get a 20 on Phil.

- Beautiful.
- You never see a Blue Comet

in that condition.
I mean, look at the coaches.

Every window still lights up.

If that train still ran
New York to A.C.,

Atlantic City would be
a much different place today.

- Better class of people.
- I suppose.

Who the fuck really knows?

Still, it's nice to think that.

Imagine riding
in that club car,

sipping on a negroni.

Eight grand
for the whole set, huh?

There's other people
interested.

I'm gonna go for it.

Your son will like this too.

Looks fast.

He don't care.

- Hurry up, for Christ's Sake.
- All right, aspett'.

If l'm gonna be working away from
the office, I should have this stuff.

You wanna make yourself useful?

Get the girls' pay slips
over there.

Put 'em in a bag.
Or give 'em to me.

Come on.

All right.

Let's go.

- Yeah, that's them there.
- Fuck!

What the fuck?

Let's get the hell out of here.

Wait here.

Melissa found a memory stick
in my Prada bag that wasn't printed.

God, remember what
a dick this guy was at first?

Yeah.

I need to talk to you.

- Nobody called you?
- No. What's the matter?

Bobby's dead. He's shot.
Sil's in the hospital.

- What happened?
- Could be several things.

- "Leave here"?
- Just temporarily, till we get

- the situation under control.
- What does that mean?

Carm, help me out here.
Don't argue.

- You mean they're after you.
- We should split up.

You and the kids go.
I'll be somewhere else.

- Oh my god!
- Now look,

families don't get touched.
You know that, hmm?

I just wanna know

every night that you're not sitting here
out in the open.

Where should l go?
Where are you gonna go?

The house you just bought,
the estate sale...

- go there.
- Oh, Jesus.

A hotel then.
It doesn't fucking matter.

- Okay.
- You all right?

All right, we gotta get moving.

And like I said,
it's just a precaution.

- What about your sister?
- She's gotta know by now.

We'll stop over there
after we're cleared out of here.

- And Gab? How bad is Sil?
- We'll make some calls.

- Maybe I should go on over to Jan's.
- Carm...

Meadow is basically living
at Patrick's, thank God.

A.J.... how are you gonna
get him to go along?

- He won't leave the house.
- He's gonna leave the house.

- Tony...
- On a piece of plywood

if necessary, but he's
gonna leave the house.

Anything I can do?

- No.
- You heard?

- Or maybe I should just leave.
- I'll call you.

It says Shukrijumah
brought nuclear material

Into the country
from Mexico in 2002.

Fuck.

Leave us alone, hon.

- Hang downstairs.
- Better yet, don't.

You just bust in?
We could have been doing anything.

Yeah, but what
were you doing? Nothing.

We're just friends.

All right, listen.

Come, sit up.

Come on.

Your Uncle Bobby's dead.

- What?
- He's dead. He got shot.

- What do you mean, "he got shot"?
- Listen to me,

and l don't have any time to go into
a debate about any of this, okay?

And it's important
that we all leave

for a little while
until things settle down.

What? Holy fuck.

It's just a precaution.

The point is that...

I'm gonna be dependent
on you to help out your mother.

- Help out how?
- Just do what she asks,

you know, chores, tasks,

whatever.

And don't add to the problem.

What do you mean?
What the fuck did I do?

Don't break her balls,
all right, huh?

Just help her

with Aunt Janice, whatever.

Uncle Bobby's dead.

Yeah.

This is really
depressing to me.

He was a good guy.

I was already having
so much trouble maintaining.

Ow! Ow!

Ow! My tailbone!

Here, pack a bag.

Now!

And you won't need no sandals
or fucking resort wear.

I'll be waiting downstairs.

Oh my God.

I called the hospital.
They wouldn't give no info on Sil.

Gab's brother
finally phoned back.

Doctors don't think
he'll recover consciousness.

Look at the stems on blondie.

Heh!
He's riding high.

Nice to be young, huh?

I'm gonna bunk down here.

All right, you go take care
of your wife,

That flu.

- You too.
- Where the fuck l gotta be?

Yeah, I'm gonna stay.

We order a pizz'.

Yeah.

Get some meatballs
and sausage too.

Couple of salads.
No vegetarian pizza.

You probably don't even hear it
when it happens, right?

Ask your friend in there,
on the wall.