Pick a Card
A few months ago, I wrote a column for the consumer magazine Strictly Slots that mentioned the trial of Shaun Joseph Benward, also known as illusionist “Shaun Mistery,” for using his magic skills to cheat an Iowa casino out of $10,000.
Benward just got sentenced to 10 years in prison for the scams, which involved the use of “misdirection” to convince dealers to overpay him, manipulating chips after bets closed, and distracting dealers by pulling a live pheasant out of the drop box.
(I made the last one up. That would be cool, though.)
Benward reportedly changed into different outfits and disguises between his tricks. He’d show up to one table in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, another in a stylish suit, and a third dressed like a chicken. (Well, that’s what I heard.)
According to reports, he would also change outfits for visits to different cages, taking care to avoid reporting thresholds.
OK, does he have a steamer trunk in a room off the casino floor? A dressing room, maybe? And who’s helping him? Does he have an assistant? And if so, does he cut the assistant in half?
As the news stories have filtered in, I’ve learned more about Shaun Mistery and his alleged life of crime. His conviction for 13 felonies in Iowa actually was the culmination of what could be called a spree dating back at least to 2018, when he first pulled the scams in Iowa, at the Grand Falls Casino.
According to news reports, right after he was charged, he pulled what reporters called a “disappearing act.” (Get it?)
He evaded authorities for seven years before he was eventually arrested in Mississippi late last year. But get this—those years were spent doing casino scams around the country, with convictions in Pennsylvania, Delaware, Michigan, Missouri, Ohio, Indiana, Rhode Island and Nevada for offenses involving casino cheating, money laundering and fraud.
He’s gone wild! A magician casino-scammer on the loose!
In 2022, Benward and an accomplice were arrested in Pittsburgh for attempting to bilk the Rivers Casino out of more than $10,000. In that case, Benward pleaded guilty to casino cheating, was sentenced to probation, and ordered to pay restitution.
Then, Iowa caught up with him, in Mississippi. (I think.)
Maybe Benward can work all of this into a casino act. You know, Shaun Mistery at Caesars Palace. “Pick a card, any card,” he’d say to a random audience member. He could dazzle audiences. Pyrotechnics, then all the money disappears.
Or, he’ll just keep doing what he does.
Yeah, probably that.
Meanwhile, a pickup truck crashed through the doors of the Main Street Station casino in Downtown Las Vegas, in what clearly is one of the worst segues in this column’s history.
No, really. A white pickup. Through the front door, coming to rest on the steps. Imagine how that could break up a sleepy afternoon at Main Street Station, where I’ve spent a few sleepy afternoons over the years.
It’s one of my favorite stops Downtown. I normally have a blast there, and I like how they installed urinals in a portion of the Berlin Wall they had shipped in. I’m glad the pickup didn’t crash into the men’s room.
Anyway, after the explosive noise and shattering glass had quieted, it was business as usual in the casino. Someone threw tape around the pickup truck, parked on the front steps with its emergency flashers blinking, and naturally, the pause in the afternoon’s gambling was over. As workers labored to extricate the truck, players continued to hit spin buttons around the area, which took on the look of a progressive slot prize display.
It was once again a normal day at Main Street Station.
Well, except for the truck on the steps.
No one was hurt in the crash. That includes the driver, who was evidently completely sober, but noted that he was “confused.” Personally, I always get confused when I see casino doors directly in front of my car. I hit the accelerator every time. But that’s just me.
There was no identification of the driver. For all I know, it was Shaun Benward, with another magic trick to distract the dealers.
He’ll be back soon. His 10 years got cut to six because of time served, and with good behavior, he’ll be back in costume in no time.
So, if you’re in a casino five or six years from now and you hear someone say, “Hey, Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!” be on the alert. It could be Shaun Mistery in a moose costume.
What, no Bullwinkle fans here?
