Cut to John-Steve at a table, screaming and pounding his hand on the table so that chips fly everywhere. The dealer turns over a queen, and John-Steve gets out of hand, jumping up with his hands in the air and screaming "MONKEY" and whistling some more, and dancing lasciviously, and asking who's everybody's daddy. It's quite amazing, how loud he is. Tommy and Gray Dog discuss all this, stunned into stillness, and Gray Dog point out that John-Steve is also never going to be your only charge, as a host: You might have twenty customers, and some of them might be easy and nice, and not demanding, and...then there are the Steves. They laugh defeatedly, but it's not funny, really. Back to John-Steve, who's swearing a little bit as he continues to attempt to play, and is belligerent and finally gets kind of scary. "Honestly, I couldn't handle it. It humbled me." Well, good, Tommy. Not that I believe it for a goddamned second. Gray Dog heads over to retrieve John-Steve from the blackjack table before he urinates on someone.
Justine comes to the Badly-Parented Family's suite to do her reading. The music and candles and Justine are all spooky and stupid and magical. Brian's a "spirit" that has "been around a long time." If I believed that were true in some cases, which I do not, I still wouldn't think it was true for Brian. He's a dick, already. He's like, whatever about that spirit shit, and then picks the random topic of gambling, just like Eulisha did. He says these words just like this: "Do you see any favorite numbers or colors in my, uh...background?" Whatever, dude. I do, and they are zero, in your background. "I'm getting the number 7 for you," Justine says. I laugh and then mail the FOX network ten dollars. "The first thing, though, that I wanted to tell you is...I see a female energy really affecting you in your gambling game on your trip out here at this time? It's really interfering with your process," she giggles. Cut to Bad Mom, reading a magazine on the couch. He wonders if that means he should get his wife away from the table while he's gambling. Because misogyny and superstition go hand in hand, especially if you're from the extremes of history. Justine the Witch refuses to bring Goody Badparent into this. "It's just interfering with your process," she giggles again, as though answering his question. "Do you see my family in Disney any time in the future?" Oh, Brian. Your elocution. This Disney stuff will happen a little bit down the road, so "as much as you want to go right now [and have totally promised your sons]...I'm seeing you have to wait a while for this." We pan over to the younger son looking totally adorable and sad and puppy-dog. Oh wait, oh crap, the Witch is actually talking to the younger son, it seems. "Is that okay? Can you wait that long?" Um…a whole while? The not making sense with your talking, is that, like, a spell? "My father doth tell me witches do lie, and poison the village's wells. And that's how clitorectomies do happen. To hate women keeps the village strong." Well, Younger doesn't say that to the Witch, exactly. I'm paraphrasing. I cannot wait till Bad Mommy slaps the shit out of Brian for letting Justine talk this crap.