Sean didn’t like being touched, but he just smirked and went to work. After laying a twenty and his beer along the top of a small, round cocktail table beside them, he snagged a wooden triangle rack from a coat hook on the nearby paneled wall. He formed the balls tightly along the well-worn burgundy felt that lined the table.
The loudmouth chalked his stick, broke, and immediately sunk a solid, which incited a toothy grin in the direction of his comrade. He missed the follow-up shot, which opened the door for Sean to sink three stripes in a row. Despite his tiredness, his game was clean and he made short work of his opponent, dropping the eight while three solids still rested on the table. The loudmouth had quieted down a bit, but to Sean’s surprise, he didn’t let the loss deflate his spi
