Jeff Booth's casino hides sixteen different games behind four floors, and each one has its own trick to surviving it.

There's a shady person in the lobby who decides whether your climb up the casino goes smoothly or falls apart on floor two.

Jeff Booth's daily quotas are perfectly doable alone, but the whole game clearly wants you dragging five friends into the casino with you instead.

There's a guy with a goatee running a trailer near the playground, and everything he sells is temporary, questionable, and occasionally the only thing standing between you and total bankruptcy.

Surviving the daily quota barely pays anything on its own, and the real ticket income lives somewhere else entirely.

Five minutes isn't a lot of time to hit quota, and it's even less time when someone on your team decides Roulette is a personality trait.

Making it to the top floor with a full wallet is its own kind of victory, and then the game asks you to gamble with something a lot bigger than cash.

The odds in Jeff Booth's casino are stacked against you by design, but the save file has a memory problem that works entirely in your favor.

Five minutes on the casino floor doesn't leave much room for browsing hats, but there's a way around that entirely.