Zano begged me to give him another chance, so, being the kind-hearted soul I am, I decided to dispatch him over to Vegas.  We arranged to have him upload some live feeds to me from the Riviera during the New Year’s Eve festivities.  We were going to incorporate Twitter, it was going to be great—and what did I get for my trouble?  Bupkis.  I got less than bupkis, I got bupk.

First off, Zano sends me this “picture” and I use the term loosely. This photographic gem is of Bald Tony with what looks to be lit reindeer antlers sprouting out of his head.  Here’s the accompanying Crackberry text from Zano:

7:15PM: We are at the Wynn and the Encore (as locals call it WynnCore).  There is an awesome hourly show out back, very freaky.  I hug Tony out of fear (OK, I added that last part, but it’s probably true).  Cocktail waitresses in Vegas typically range anywhere from the Jessica Alba variety to the Phyllis Diller variety, but at the WynnCore, it seems we are blissfully Dillerless.  All of them rate very high on the shwing scale.  The place is so high scale you can even eat out of the urinals, but those blue-comb, men’s room attendant goons frown upon this. 

7:47PM: We checked out the menu at the SW Steakhouse.  “These prices aren’t too bad,” I said, but then Tony pointed out those were the appetizers.  I hug Tony out of fear (OK, I added that last part, but it’s probably true).

Then, at 9:35PM Nevada time, I get this picture of what looks to be the Riviera and the Stratosphere in the distance.  Bald Tony set Zano up at the Riviera, so at least there’s proof he made it outside his hotel room.  Here’s the accompanying text for this one:

9:27PM: There’s an English style pub, The Queen Victoria, on the ground floor.  Here’s the equation: the room is under Tony’s name + I billed the room for my tab = I may never leave.

I don’t know why I pay these idiots.  Oh, that’s right, I don’t. Regardless, I’m still getting the short end of this schtick.  Not one picture of the fireworks! Not one picture of the crowd!  Here’s the last transmission from Zano:

11:02PM: Separated from Bald Tony.  Throngs of what can loosely be described as people, some dressed garishly.  Not sure what garishly means.  Will Google later.  I have been in Times Square on New Years but nothing comp…”

That’s all I got.  Oh, the humanity.  At left is the last picture he sent me.  It looks like it might be a line of motorcycle cops, but it’s kind of blurry.  I aint bailing those fuckers out…again!  No one has heard from either of them at this point.  Perhaps they are lost to us…I should be so lucky.

OK, Zano, if you’re still in Vegas and free to move about unfettered, you should be able to see Trump Tower from the Riviera.  OK, now walk over there before reading any further.  I’ll know if you don’t, so proceed there NOW!

Are you there?  Good, because I am preparing my own fireworks display of sorts.  Are you in the lobby?  OK, now find a picture of Donald Trump—a gold statue in his likeness will suffice.  OK, kneel down at its feet.  Excellent.  OK, you may continue…

You’re Fired!