Since John-Steve spends so much money at the Nugget, Tommy explains, he will never get kicked out, he'll just get a host that follows him around taking care of his needs and keeping him in line. I think it's a good system, and I think it would be fun too. I completely understand Tommy's obsession with hosting. Cut to Host-Steve keeping John-Steve "in line": he drunkenly walks through the Nugget with Gray Dog and Tommy in tow, and hits on other people's wives Everyone...laughs. His hysteria is contagious. Tommy interviews that Steve is "a mess," and he doesn't know how anyone could control him. So we'll need to review that whole host thing, I guess is what you're telling me. They go into a large convention center-looking area, maybe the poker room, and Steve immediately starts demanding that Tommy get his ass over there and sit on his lap. And while Tommy's kind of terrified here, and physically moves back about a foot when it starts? He has no idea that John-Steve is so far from human at this point that he would actually fuck him, and not nicely.
Tommy simply -- and wisely -- cannot bring himself to sit on Steve's lap. He's a quick study. "Let me tell you how it's gonna be," shrieks Steve, and Gray Dog steps in to protect Tommy's ass, and ears, from "how it's going to be." Gray Dog refers to Tommy as his "baby apprentice." "He won't never make it," giggles John-Steve, and everybody laughs hilariously because that's what you do when drunks get belligerent. Or in this case, when they get oracular. Gray Dog has to run off for some reason, and with one hand on John-Steve's shoulder tells Tommy not to let him out of his seat. Steve, of course, immediately stands up and starts hopping around drunkenly, and Tommy yells, "Sit, sit!" repeatedly and humorously, and it's radically awesome. "I mean, it was like watching my three-year-old brother." Finally, John-Steve's up again, yelling, "Screw this shit, man!" Tommy just sighs. "I'm not going to stop the guy; he can flip me ten feet, you know what I mean? He's a big dude." Not to mention he's going to go all Oz on you if you don't keep very, very still. He's a big drunk dude that wants you to sit on his lap. As though it were it were a truck stop and not the fabulous Golden Nugget Hotel and Casino. "I'm-a gonna go aggravate the people that are playing," John states. Which is awesome. Gray Dog's like, No, do not do that. "I cain't do that?" No. "I cain't?" No. "...Watch me." He then moves very quickly, does that really loud taxi whistle I can't do, dances, screams, laughs, does some pelvic thrusts, and starts yelling at everyone in the room. Gray Dog gets him back in his chair, and people stare. Tommy notes how they've all got fingers crossed that they won't have to sit next to him. Will calls so fast. "Um, sit on my lap?" "I love Television Without Pity. I love my job." Will allows as how he'd probably sit on John-Steve's lap, in order to take him for a shitload of money. He goes on to state that he, your humble recapper, and Matt "Velvet" Dusk would make a kick-ass team of hooker/spies. Dear reader, I must agree. "That would be so freakin' cool," sighs Will, and he's off to do laundry. And have a long, hot, anti-bacterial shower.