Up Chuck (six shots sad, now) checks into the Nugget, and immediately asks if there's "any action, any women." The desk attendant calls Maurice, the Operations Chief, because Up Chuck is flagged in their marketing system. Maurice, who seems kind of cool, phones down to the pit to warn them, and as Up Chuck drops a huge wad of $100 bills on a table somewhere, Maurice meets up with Tim and explains that, as a card counter, Up Chuck should not be allowed to play blackjack. I admit that I've never understood the whole card-counting issue, although we discuss it again tonight, but it seems to me like the equivalent of barring the super-strong or incredibly speedy from participating in the Olympics, because it's not fair to the other athletes. Maurice, Tom, and Tim meet on the floor to watch Up Chuck, who sits down at a table, hoping aloud to the camera that they'll let him play. The three return upstairs to watch him "test the waters" (and start winning almost immediately, incidentally) on the monitor, and Tim explains that while card counting is "not cheating," it is "taking advantage of probability." Otherwise known as gambling. Whatever, I'm sure there's something I'm not getting, and I'll figure it out or have it explained to me at some point. Don't mind me.
Jason says the word "Pornapalooza." Oh, man. These girls come in. I memorize their faces. Jason says that word again, and talks about how he needs to get Rob "into the mix right off the bat" and I'm loving the mixed metaphor, because it's so like Jason to do some light baking and play some baseball at the same time. Facials and whores, people. It all makes sense. The man currently known as the Midnighter takes careful notice of Jason's "flat affect," and I giggle uncontrollably. Jason wants Rob to give some girl a lap dance. Yeah, I see this working out well for everyone.
Up Chuck's at the Blackjack table (of course), and a woman walks by (of course), and he notices her cleavage (of course), kind of obviously (of course). Up Chuck meets Diana, and the people in the surveillance office watching on the monitors narrate the conversation snarkily, which is totally rad: "No? But I'm rich!" "But I don't like you." Up Chuck is now seen kissing the neck of the exact same girl Rob gave the ill-advised lap dance to, and there you go. I don't even have to say anything about that, honestly, because guys like this give prostitution a bad name! No quality guys are going to pay for hookers if you keep showing them guys like this and saying, "This is the kind of person who pays for sex." I don't even know what side I'm ranting about right now, or even exactly what my issue with all of this is, I just think it's funny to yell sometimes.