After last week’s horrific fire, it seems like everyone’s ready to roll with the punches. Tommy’s apparently healing well from his self-inflicted burn and, mysteriously, suddenly much less inclined to swig from a whiskey bottle every five seconds. We could scarcely believe our ears when he spouted this bit of wisdom to a young leukemia patient: “I don’t put a lot of stock in hope and ‘keep hope alive’ and stuff, but when it comes to you, I think I do. Really that’s all you can do — hope for the best and maybe that’s what you’ll get.” Thankfully, Tommy’s moral moments were kept to a minimum, so we turn our attention toward the crew.
“For the first time in my life, I was out-banged by a woman. I cherished every masochistic moment.”
“Pretty Boy,” as the crew amusingly calls him, wins his first fight, thanks to the questionably aggressive training style of questionably heterosexual Carla. Winning the award for Most Annoying Appearance by Damian, Sheila’s probie-to-be son manages to in no way endear himself to the crew by snidely sniping at Franco about his “lesbo” girlfriend. We can’t wait till Franco breaks the kid’s nose.
“Come on, guys, how dumb can you be? When’s the last time you ever saw me open a book?”
Sean’s condition seems to be improving, so the guys put Franco’s winnings to his last hospital bills. All’s peachy until a Vicodin-induced haze (we hope) inspires Sean to confess that he’s been skimming off the top of the bar’s profits to pay for his surgery. While his mom and Terrence at last seem totally on his side, he’s jumped by the crew — all of whom cool down, except Black Shawn, whose plans to travel to Italy have been thwarted — prompting one of Tommy’s better one-liners: “You were taking Colleen to Italy? For what, so you could get pussy-whipped on foreign soil?”
“You’re a bigger whore than Candy ever was.” Tommy: “You’re calling me a whore?” L: “You called me a conduit!” T: “You called me a conduit and a whore!” L: “I want an apology!” T: “I want two apologies!”
Oh, boys. After Lou unsuccessfully tries to convince Tommy he’s closed the deal with Candy, the usual argument as to who’s in a worse “no strings” situation ensues (during which Lou finally calls Tommy what he is: a polygamist!). For the first time, we’re genuinely worried for Lou, who nearly chokes on the engagement ring Candy hides in his mashed potatoes. After two weeks she wants to get married? We smell a prenup plotline somewhere soon … right, Lou? Please?
“I have got a goddamn scroll of reasons I choose to live in the present. The past is too painful, and the future is too scary. I will worry about tomorrow when I wake up and take my pills.”
At an idyllic dinner with Sheila and Damian, Tommy tentatively expresses some interest in the idea of them as an actual, permanent threesome — until Sheila promptly shuts him down with one of her better tirades about the exact terms of their current relationship (in which Tommy is forbidden to care about her). She then proceeds to explain, in hilariously minute detail, several past moments when Tommy slighted her in public. We wanted to laugh, but there’s something sad about this new Sheila — just like Tommy, she’s utterly closed herself off to pain, and perhaps general feeling as well.