I love Rome. In particular I love Pullo. Pullo represents everything I most dislike in a man- insensitivity, brutality, machismo, unthinking stupidity- all rolled up into one hunking ball and yet I love him. I don't altogether understand it, but I suppose it's because he's also so boyishly cheerful- the eternal squaddie- Tommy Atkins in a leather jerkin. Anyway, there's nothing he can do- cutting people's thumbs off, carrying out hits for the Mob- which will turn me against him. He bashes some poor fool's brains out in an unprovoked attack and I think, "aw, poor Pullo, he'll come to regret this."
Meanwhile, In another corner of the antique world they've found the graves of Jesus and his family- including his mom and Mary Magdalen- and the discovery is vouched for by no less a person than renowned marine archaeologist, James Cameron. The cardinals are already squealing like stuck pigs. Luvverly!