Phil Hellmuth Jr. is on your left. He's "frustrated" that his bluffs aren't working ("how can you call me with that?"), he's pacing around, he's lying on the floor groaning. He's whining like a brat.
Mike Matusow is on your right. He either saying how unlucky he is and moping, or in your face BABY. Fist-pumpingly in your face. Ugh.
Phil Laak is opposite you. He has been all-in on you a few times and you suspected he had bupkis, but you just can't get a read on this guy, what with his hooded top pulled all the way over his head. What's worse is the crowd seem to like him..
You've just had your wired aces cracked by another player at the table who caught a miracle card on the river. Your dreams of winning the big one are slipping away..
All of a sudden, all three 'faces' start yapping and doing 'their thing'. Hellmuth tells you you should've known you were beat (!), Matusow is saying 'this is MY year baby', and Laak is behaving like a mental case.
You reckon you have one punch in you before security can restrain you..