Smiling conspiratorially at his bandmates, Matt "Velvet" Dusk's body language (shoulder cocked as far in the other direction as it can be without him actually turning his back on her, finger over his lips just begging her to shut up and go away) supplies a "Girl, are you high?" while his mouth tries to think of numbers too big for her to count: "Oh, um, we practice from...nine, to...eleven." He's so cute here, it's vastly and wholly unbelievable. Sensing she doesn't have him quite as much in the palm of her hand as she would like, she backs off: "Can I come and watch?" Which is canny, because this is Matt "Velvet" Dusk we're talking about, and finally she's speaking his ego's language, so his body flips over completely in the blink of an eye (finger flies off the lips and beckons her to the practice session, eyes begin once more to sparkle delightfully), and he invites her to come and watch from 9 to 11 tomorrow. "We downbeat right at 9:01," says someone else in the band, perhaps trying to scare her off with the lingo, "so don't be late." Matt "Velvet" Dusk, totally not selling it, tells the camera, "If Joe wants a karaoke joint [DRINK!], you know what? Fine, because I'll just put anybody onstage who wants to sing." So we've entered the "Fuck It" stage of the Employee Resentment spiral, I see. That comes right before "Extreme and Unexplained Tardiness," according to Kubler-Ross. Bumper to commercial -- coming up, that fuzzy raspberry sweater of Matt "Velvet" Dusk's that I like so much -- and then a commercial for Catwoman. This one tries to liken it to Kill Bill, I think. She's out for her catlike revenge and all that shit. Who needs the Comedy Channel this month, when we're assured of at least one Catwoman commercial a night? More hilarious than imagining the Tim and Tom Connection on The Amazing Race. Go ahead, do it. I can wait.
Adjusting their black-on-black "no Mafia here" suits on the escalator, R.I.C.O. asks S.U.A.V.E. if it's possible he's "too attractive for [his] height." "Should I be taller, or...?" I love these guys so much. R.I.C.O. tells us that Vegas has everything he likes: "Broads, gamble, and drink. What else? Vegas is a Mardi Gras every day of the year." Which would have made me move there, back in the day, because that would have meant a whole lot of Tuesday nights with Buffy. They've deigned to leave the Steve Wynn Suite and enter the casino proper. I keep expecting a reaction shot of Tim and Tom, glad to see them down here whether or not they were actually on the floor when R.I.C.O. and S.U.A.V.E. finally showed up, but no. It's just not a good enough show to follow through, or give me that. Some blonde girl fakes, "Here comes trouble!" as they walk up. "Lemme see ya boobs for 300," RICO yells out of nowhere as he's lighting her cigarette. Whoa! Guess she was right! "Dude! Nasty!" she cutes in his face, scratching her neck. She's really cute. I wish there were a Casino story about her. Guess I'll have to keep watching, because she's really cool. My favorite person on this show, maybe ever. Perhaps it's best we don't see what becomes of her: she'd probably end up gambling away all of her money and giving hand jobs to random guys picked out of the crowd by Mark Burnett himself in order to get bus fare home, or something. Farewell after this scene, I guess, cigarette-smoking girl. I'll always love you. S.U.A.V.E. says that "a typical night out" with R.I.C.O. is an "anything could happen-type situation." What these people won't do to each other -- or whatever your imagination can bear, I guess -- they'll do to the language. As S.U.A.V.E. continues to list the things that could happen (lots of women, lots of drinking, lots of gambling), we see all of these things happen. So I guess he was right. And R.I.C.O. too, since these are the things he himself listed.