Billiards,,,,,I PWN!!!11

I made my monthly trip to the local bar where "everybody knows my name" and had a few beers. Now, this is where it gets weird.

A guy I know named Scott came up and said, "Hey, you wanna get in on this (impromptu) pool tournament?" Since I had a few beers already churning in my stomach I said sure.

I suck at pool. That's it, end of discussion. Including myself there were six people in this billiards extraordinar1e, making the grand prize for winning this thing a whopping thirty bucks. The first game I shot I veritably smoked a man that is far superior in the trigonometry of pool than I am. That was surprise enough! The second game I lost to a douche bag that I have never trusted, and for good reason as he spreads drama like kids spread peanut butter on PB&J sandwiches!

Third game comes around I am shooting against an old friend of mine. She is far better at pool than I pretend to be but, somehow, she scratches on the eight ball so I'm off to the next round!

By this point I am pretty well lit up, so the details get foggy. Apparently I won the next game against a guy I have known since kindergarten. Every time I've seen this cat at the bar he has been shooting pool & to my untrained eye he seems to have some skills. Apparently these skills mean exactly shit as I soundly beat him with four of his balls still left on the table.

Now to the final. I have to shoot against the only person that beat me. That's right, the untrustworthy douche bag.

I pull out all the stops. Sure the purse for the event is only thirty dollars, but this guy has talked shit on me in the past which has caused me some degree of problems. Imagine, if you will, an NBA player talking shit to an opponent. Or maybe a wide receiver in the NFL talking trash to an opposing cornerback. I was Deion Sanders and Allen Iverson all rolled up into the body of an overweight white boy. I talked the talk and I walked the walk. I went to my extensive library of ghetto speak and talked trash. We both got down to just the eight ball and after several very shitty leaves, the douche bag left me with a shot that I could not miss. Needless to say I made the shot. I even looked him in the eye as I hit the cue ball like Tom Cruise did it in The Color of Money.

Was it right to talk smack and be a complete dick? Maybe not. But tonight, because of my mediocre pool skills and my big mouth, I was a champion. I'm a firm believer of take your victories where you can, so I am taking this one to the bank.

-Twiz