Chuck Roades Jr, the freshly elected New York State Attorney General, who never sets foot in the state's capital, and Jeff "Jock" Jeffcoat, the U.S. Attorney General who never seems to be in Washington, D.C., clearly don't like each other. As such, we are treated to tit-for-tats that rival the magnitude of Sam Malone of the Cheers bar, and Gary, of Olde Time Tavern. Chuck and Jeff just play with much bigger toys.
The latest prank sees Chuck trying to get back at Jeff for boxing Charles Sr. in at his development site by cutting off access due to "security" concerns. Chuck has an epiphany when he spots a row of port-a-potties outside the site's trailer. Chuck has become very aware of the port-a-potties' presence because of a sudden change of wind and an open window. If a row of port-a-potties could smell that bad then Central Park would clearly defoliate during a road race. But hey, this is television.
Charles explains to Chuck that he can't explain how construction workers' "night soil" smells worse than that produced by everyone else. "Night soil," come on. They're making works up now, right? Wrong.
Night soil is human excrement that is pumped away from outhouses, septic tanks and and port-a-potties. The show if nothing else is educational.
Chuck, ever the careful researcher, asks his main man amanuensis, Karl, "how do those things get emptied."
Karl is good at getting anything Chuck needs. He could bring back a cache of moon rocks from the Smithsonian and not get caught. If he ran the Watergate break-in President Nixon would never have had to resign.
Karl explains that "long industrial hoses called 'cacasuckas' pump the excrement into specially treated sanitation trucks, where it is dumped into the sewage system, dehydrated into a solid, compressed and loaded onto a train that travels south and then west to New Mexico." Karl has a map showing the route. Hint: Chuck notices that to get to New Mexico you have to go through Texas, and guess who lives in Texas?
Cacasuckas. Are they kidding us? This does not appear to be a genuine word that would get you points in Scrabble. It is however an easily understood word, and that's all that is important.
And here's where the rivalry with Jeff gets outlandish. Chuck arranged through a series of bribes of key Southern mayors to get the train re-routed and stalled just outside Jeff's ranch and near the house where Jeff, ever the Southern Baptist quotes and read Scripture, and holds hands with his wife while saying grace at breakfast with the window open. Well, at least open until the train, filled with New York City waste arrives, and parks alongside Jeff's ranch.
Why didn't the Democrats think of this when George W. was staying at his ranch in Crawford, or Dick Cheney was at his spread? Chuck is clearly a wizard.
Just prior to the train's arrival, Chuck visits Jeff at his dining table in Texas. Here we have a New York State Attorney General who never sets foot in Albany but who has the means to get himself to Texas to talk of the Pharaohs to Jeff.
Jeff clearly hates all things New York City. When the train pulls up and stops outside his ranch and the odor wafts through the breakfast window, sending Jock's wife to the loo to vomit, Jeff calls Bryan Connerty in New York. " You might be used to the foul and fetid up there in New York, but move that shit train."
Calling NYC "foul and fetid" is a screenwriters' words for how the Daily News portrayed President Ford's response to a bailout in 1975: 'Ford To City: Drop Dead.'
As usual, the word "fuck" and all it's transitive uses gets prominent air time. Everyone utters the word. I've never counted the numbers of times it is uttered, but pretty much every character utters the word, even, or especially, Rebecca Cantu, Bobby Axelrod's financial gal pal who is trying to right the ship of retailer Salers (read Sears). Such a wholesome girl who is waxing nostalgic over the ice cream soda fountains in Salers.
Meanwhile, Wendy is in doo-doo for using confidential client session records to torpedo Taylor Mason. The Medical Review Board has sicced their investigator on Wendy, and she leans into Chuck (rhymes with fuck) to get them off her back.
Wendy, as usual, looks appealing, especially with the current off-the-shoulder fashion look that is all the rage these days. She's always in black, probably the only color in any good dominatrix closet.
And Bonnie. We knew were going to get more Bonnie, and we do as she attempts to crack the inner employee circle for investing, The Flagship Fund.
Bobby has kept inclusion to this high-flying fund only to his tight inner circle, but now Bonnie wants in. She has gotten word of its existence from Dollar Bill who thinks he's in line to get in Bonnie's pants.
Well, spoiler alert, Bonnie does get in the Flagship Fund, and she does encourage Dollar Bill to get in her pants, in the company parking lot in one of Bill's multi-family minivans. Bobby ha managed to fuck Dollar Bill out of his inclusion in the fund—retribution from Bobby—to also literally letting him sample her charms.
And guess what? Just when you think Chuck has scored a major deal-making ploy to get his father's building site cleared of cops, and also get Wendy's license review squashed, he balks at giving Connerty a favor to be redeemed later.
Instead, Connerty gets a tongue-lashing from Chuck who basically tells him he doesn't have the "right stuff."
Connerty is CRUSHED. He can't close a deal with Chuck. This sends him late at night to the Soul Cycle Dr. Gus, who is the motivator supreme, and who told Connerty when Bryan finished second to him in the Peloton sprint, that he needs "to sharpen your dachi and slice a hole in the universe and cut down everything between you and where you're going."
So, look for a new Bryan coming up. With the sharp dachi.
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