Let's be fair. When Tommy was done shaving Steve's faccia, his five o'clock shadow was most certainly not intact.

I'm not trying to say it was gone.

It was still there. But it was... addled. Uneven. Patchy... Like a blighted lawn.

And Steve wasn't exaggerating when he described being filled with terror. I remember remarking (out loud, to once again be annoying):

"Thank you for this Tommy, this is the first stretch of five minutes I've had all weekend that I haven't had to listen to him talking."

That's right -- Steve was too scared to speak.

And yes, it was the best money I spent that weekend -- not counting what I spent at Stew Leonard's to stock the food tables of baptismal feast. Think "broccolini." And Turkish coffee.

Oh, and yes, the proper way to pronounce the name Stew Leonard is indeed su cazzo. And the proper inflection of that goes something like the refrain in Rammstein's "Du Hast."

There is a style to all this. Please be sure to follow along.