Everyone who hears him say this, the Commissionnaires and the audience playing along at home, is kind of deliriously aghast and bemused by this. They try to explain that he's kind of a bad risk and that to grant him a license could affect every license in the state. He reaches back into the crazy box and pulls out, "I fully appreciate the enormity of the message that you're trying to give me today; one of my goals now will be to gain the respect of this commission, and I recognize that the only way I can do this now is over time." Which is kind of like that whole "you can't get a job without experience" thing, basically, only with the Mob added. The slight validity and complete irrelevance of this is enough to convince them, and they vote unanimously to grant the license. There is applause, although Tim and Tom are on probation "a little bit." Back at the Nugget, Tim is making sure everyone gets "nice and hammered" to celebrate. Tom says that he and Tim "wanted to put on a brave face, but to be honest...when you look around, this is kind of daunting, because all of this is our responsibility." I quote that verbatim because the only thing cooler than stating the obvious is restating the obvious.
Now that they have their license, they can go into the Counting Room, where the money is counted. The boys seem to feel like this is akin to being privy to the secrets of the Pharaoh's Tomb, and maybe it is, but there's a lot of Indiana Jones in the air as they push this button and walk into the room where the machines are busily counting money. One pile contains $600,000, and another $500,000, for example, which is described variously as 1.1 million dollars, "a lot of cheddar," and "a lot of salad, baby." Oh, dear. Oh, my. Tim, having caught on to the hierarchy of stating and restating the obvious, notes that there's tremendous pressure, because there are thousands of Nugget customers each day, so even though they've finally got "the keys to the kingdom," if anything goes wrong it's his and Tom's asses. More weird shots of their faces mixed with Las Vegas bullshit, and then we see some "classic fat daddy Caddies" for use as VIP cars. Tim and Tom kind of mumble to each other about the cars. They are clearly excited about the trappings of their new license and business venture, I don't know if I mentioned that a billion times.
And speaking of Very Important People, just then a limousine pulls up full of drunk fraternity guys yelling, "Woo!" It actually names them on the bottom of the screen as the "Frat Pack," which is kind of cool, and as they jump out like clowns from a clown car and huddle up, Tim and Tom watch them warily. Or at least, that's how it's supposed to appear, even though it's clearly been edited together from several unrelated shots that probably took place on different days and may well have taken place outside different casinos, for all I know. The Frat Pack are excited about getting manicure-pedicures and facials, as frat guys are wont to do, I guess, and then we meet Rob ("The Virgin," the screen says, which is lame). Rob's a virgin, apparently, and has a gross beard and what the man currently known as the Midnighter calls a "semi-concealed beer belly." Jason, the good-looking and well-meaning but ultimately scary ringleader of the Frat Pack, talks about what an "awesome" and "sweet" guy Rob is, and how he's never had a girlfriend before. Then he says the Frat Pack is going to "give him the biggest jumpstart on meeting women in the world," and how they're going to throw a hotel party, and I guess that's what Vegas means to Jason: mani-pedis, facials, and whores.