The Casino
Episode 1

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Just Take the Penicillin Now, Save Some Time

Was that the shocking scene? The underwear thing? I hate this so much. So even with the panties-on-the-face bit ("I'm clever!"), and the subsequent panty purchase ("I'm gallant!"), Jason's still unable to obtain a "verbal commitment" from the lingerie girls. Oh Christ, Jason. Really? A "verbal commitment"? This is how you're going to live your life? Really? So then we see lots of these frat attacks happening all over the place, asking random girls if they're single. A couple answer, "For the weekend!" ("I'm coy!") and one points out her boyfriend nearby. Jason: Stay away from girls who are anything "for the weekend," okay? You've already basically made this mistake once today, and the consequence there was just an unbudgeted lingerie transaction -- it can get worse. At one point Jason actually causes a crowd to split around him, with girls stepping around and continuing to walk past him as he begs and begs for a verbal commitment from someone, anyone.

Just when you thought your heart would burst with pity and disgust, we leave Jason to his damnable ways and catch up with Tim and Tom, who are driving up to see a possible lounge act and bitching at each other in the car like a fairly adorable old couple. There is more of that L.A.-influenced "vibe" talk, that "Classic Vegas Vibe" stuff, and I don't understand why they keep talking about it. "Sleazy, but in a Dean Martin way" would suffice, you can have that for free, and everyone would get it. You don't have to murmur "classic retro tiki lounge vibe this old-school that classic retro" all of the time like you're speaking in tongues. See, "the hardest thing to do is create a vibe," says Tom (of course), and I agree, but new words are good too, if you mix them in with the same ones. A "joint" either has or doesn't have it, and the key can sometimes be the music. Oh, Tom, you fledgling club owner. You've discovered that music can sometimes contribute to the atmosphere of a club. You'll go far. They're watching Matt "Velvet" Dusk (yes, I'm going to keep typing it out, because that's awesome that he allows, or one might say, "encourages," people to call him that -- and people do! I do! I can't stop!) sing the song from the opening, the "two shots happy" song, and I love Matt "Velvet" Dusk, so right now I am two shots happy. When Up Chuck and Carmen Sandiego show up, I'm going to be a much larger number of shots sad, so "let it ride" with me for now. Matt "Velvet" Dusk does some of that old-school vibe talk I was just asking people to stop doing, but I don't mind. He rules.

And...it's over. "Big Chuck" is in the house, and I may never be any amount of happy ever again. No shots of happy for me now that Big Chuck has arrived. Taking the cue from TifferT over on the forum, I'll be addressing him as Up Chuck, because it's a little funny and a lot true, but also because any other thing I could call him might get me jailed. So, Up Chuck. Up Chuck is of an age, greasily unattractive, vaguely menacing in a way the Frat Pack just can't be, has the kind of skin and body where you know without looking that he has strange patches of hair in strange places and probably a skin condition or two...Up Chuck is like, think of the worst thing you can think of, like in bed or something. Up Chuck has pictures of Asian girls doing this thing. There's a very Nip/Tuck, very "autoerotic asphyxiation," very bondage-y, very sad kind of feel to it. Like maybe Up Chuck would go without dinner every night for a week just so he could pay for a hooker. You know what I mean?

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The Casino

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