Hello, hello, hello Gasmii! It’s episode nine which means the season’s almost over and it’s time to start stepping up all the murder, mayhem and artfully directed ultraviolence (not that this season’s been lacking in that so far) so we can all gnash our teeth and curse the name “Terence Winter” because he once again reminded us that life’s not fair, no one’s happy and we’re all gonna die. At least on Boardwalk Empire they get to wear pretty, pretty clothes. On The Sopranosit was all track suit and leisurewear.
This was shot in the mid 2000s.
Fade up on the boardwalk and, in case you forgot, Gyp done blowed up Babette’s. It’s the morning after the explosion and while a clean-up crew is busy clearing the still smoldering debris, a doctor is examining Nucky, who’s acting like the biggest baby who ever lived. Whining about how the medication isn’t working because his head still hurts and wah, wah, wah. Although, the subtle ringing on the soundtrack was bugging me, too, Nuck.
The doctor tries to explain that he has a concussion and needs bed rest to let his brain heal but Nucky’s always been as nervy as a Chihuahua so he tells Eddie to “Call Eddie.” Sign one that Nucky’s not right this episode. Eddie doesn’t understand and tells Nucky, with some sincere concern, that he’s right there. Nucky looks at Eddie like he’s the one who’s off and says “Not you, my brother.” Used to working for the capricious drama queen, Eddie just acknowledges and moves on, saying he’ll call him right away.
I swear I called you “Nucky” not “asshole.” Must be your concussion.
The doctor foreshadows to Nucky that a loss of mental acuity is not uncommon with concussions and tries to continue his exam but Nucky wants to get dressed. Unfortunately when he stands up that damn ringing starts again and the doctor has to help him back to bed when he gets dizzy. The doctor’s voice starts fading as the ringing gets more intense and Nucky sees Billie right before the explosion. Spooked, Nucky shoos the doctor out of his room.
Meanwhile, in the living quarters of the suite, Margaret, the kids, and Scruffy Regina have all moved in and Margaret’s once again acting like the weight of the fucking word is on her shoulders. Teddy chases after the dog and runs past the phone, which has been ringing, then sasses whoever is on the other end because he won’t give Teddy his name. Heh.
No, we don’t have Prince Edward in a can and I won’t accept a collect call from Flushing.
Eddie retrieves the phone from Teddy so the boy can join his mother and listen to her sigh about just how much her life disappoints her, or in this case, the fact that he hasn’t properly scrubbed behind his ears. Teddy doesn’t see the point since they’ll be stuck in that room, anyway, but when Emily asks if they are Margaret suggests they could go downstairs for some cakes. But Emily would rather order room service.
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