I pressed a button on the device and out came a wispy laser-painted 3D outline of Quentin Tarantino with a horrified look on his face. He was holding a deck of cards, shirtless, and unfortunately, also pant-less. I checked his cards: He was losing.
I ran the device in the other area of complaint and there, sitting at the table, was his phantom companion: a laser image of a large man in a wife beater, who had apparently taken possession of a crying baby. In his hand was a winning set of cards, but under the table, stuck into the seams of the wood, were crappier cards: laser evidence of cheating.