This is sad. When Kristin rejoins the Heap for "steaknlobster," she says it again: "I lost my thousand-dollar purse." But it's just the Heap in the room. So either she's trying to impress the camera crew (whose names they all probably already know, because my sniffer just caught a big wave of Noir Oblige), or Geoff lied to her about her purse, and now this lie has become part of her whole personality. The whole world collapses into balsa wood fakeness as Kristin, now cuddled on a sofa with Geoff, says into the camera, "I lost probably $25,000 of Geoff's that was in my purse," and he looks down at her, "surprised," and says, "You lost that?" and she looks up adoringly, all cuddled into his zebra-striped armpit, and says, "Honey, whatever money you had in my purse, it's gone." It's so hard because whether this is completely true or not, whether she said that and they asked her to repeat it so they could get it on camera, whether Tom was even in the room when she was saying this "to him," whatever degree of falsehood we're being exposed to here, the fact remains that she seems like she's lying. About everything. She's just not very good at reality. She makes you want to doubt that she ever had the goddamned purse. She makes you doubt "purses" as a concept. I lost my thousand-dollar hobbit. Harry Potter bought it for me.

Geoff kisses her pointy, stripy little head and says not to worry about it, they'll find her purse. Tom jerks awake and starts wondering where the purse might be: "You think it's in the pit?" Kristin's like, "I thought it was there, but with all certainty I can tell you it now is not." Tom offers to go to Security and help them look. I don't want to say that her eyes get imperceptibly wider as she thinks to herself, Thousands of cameras in the casino. And I'm on TV. Will they know I stole the purse from myself? Everyone in the monitor room is bored because Tom has been recording his line about helping Geoff Mills's girlfriend find her purse all goddamned day and they're tired. He finally "nails" it, staring somewhat down and to the right. Then Tom fakely notices Geoff on one of the monitors: he's back at one of the tables. "This guy's unbelievable."

Utter schmuck Joel sits down, and Kristin calls him by name, asking if he found her purse. Which makes me assume that he works at the casino, since she calls him by name, meaning that he's going to get fired for betting whilst on the clock, but neither are true. He draws his thumb across his throat in a murderous gesture, and then tells the Heap that this table is a "guaranteed loss." They don't think this behavior is at all inappropriate, even when he extends his hand over the table and waves it around mystically, murmuring, "Guaranteed loss, guaranteed loss." I'm not superstitious, but come on. Geoff, go to another table. "Babe, let's win that purse back," Geoff hopefully/drunkenly says. Tim "runs into" the pit boss, whose name I don't know, who informs him that the Trash Heap has hit their credit limit and are asking for another $50,000. Tim pretends to have a spine and says, "Give them 30, and that's it." Back at the table, Geoff is trying to bet over this Joel weirdo barking over and over, "Turn away. Turn away. Turn away. Turn away." I don't know why. He's making me superstitious. There's a billion-year montage of Geoff losing, losing, losing, saying, "I had $40,000 like ten minutes ago," losing, losing, and then saying, "I was down over a hundred grand and I couldn't walk away from it." Which I guess I get. It turns into a personal affront that you have to, like, avenge. I think I can understand that. Bryan babbles something about how Geoff either has or is down either $7000 or $70,000, which is a "Toyota Tercel, a Pontiac, a Buick" and I can't figure what he's talking about. Something about how either the amount of money he has left, or the amount of money he's down right now, is equivalent to real goods and services. Good point. They go back to the room, complaining of having "got took." Asshats. Buy me a Toyota Tercel and I'll be your friend. I'm not picky, clearly.