Check out the stocky guy by the pool tables
From Create Your Own Story
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| - | Beer in hand, you walk over to the pool tables, and grab a pool cue from the rack. You turn to the stocky guy - he's wearing a t-shirt across his wide chest that says "L&M Landscaping," which explains the workboots and the grass stains - and gesture to the free table. | + | Beer in hand, you walk over to the pool tables, and grab a pool cue from the rack. You turn to the stocky guy - he's wearing a t-shirt across his wide chest that says "L&M Landscaping," which explains the workboots and the grass stains - and gesture to the free table. Up close, you realize that a lot of his mass is pure muscle; his bulky frame dwarfs your small, slim body. |
"Want to play?" | "Want to play?" | ||
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He lines up a shot, and says, "Don't think I've seen you here before." | He lines up a shot, and says, "Don't think I've seen you here before." | ||
| - | You shake your head as he starts sinking striped balls. He's probably a better player than you, you realize. "My first time here," you tell him. "It's my birthday." | + | You shake your head as he starts sinking striped balls. He's probably a better player than you, you realize. "My first time here," you tell him. "It's my birthday. I just turned 18." |
He smiles, and misses his next shot. You take your turn and do fairly well. | He smiles, and misses his next shot. You take your turn and do fairly well. | ||
Revision as of 17:06, 1 August 2015
Beer in hand, you walk over to the pool tables, and grab a pool cue from the rack. You turn to the stocky guy - he's wearing a t-shirt across his wide chest that says "L&M Landscaping," which explains the workboots and the grass stains - and gesture to the free table. Up close, you realize that a lot of his mass is pure muscle; his bulky frame dwarfs your small, slim body.
"Want to play?"
He says "sure" and racks up the balls, then gestures for you to break. You do so, but don't manage to sink anything.
He lines up a shot, and says, "Don't think I've seen you here before."
You shake your head as he starts sinking striped balls. He's probably a better player than you, you realize. "My first time here," you tell him. "It's my birthday. I just turned 18."
He smiles, and misses his next shot. You take your turn and do fairly well.
The game continues with smalltalk, and you learn his name is Len, and he is the "L" in L&M Landscaping, along with his uncle. You catch him checking out your ass, and can't help but be a little flirty as you finish your beer, leaning far over the table to take a shot. You surprise yourself by making it, but miss the next.
He sinks all but one of his stripes, but misses the difficult shot. You manage to catch up, and realize that you've got a chance at sinking the eight ball, but it's a pretty improbable shot.
And then, oddly, all the lights in the room grow dim.
“It’s Friday night!” a man’s voice announces over some sort of speaker. “Time for Blackout at the Midtown Pub!”
The bar has been filling up for some time, and at the dimming, there are cheers. You look around, confused.
“Blackout night,” Len says, over the hoots and hollers.
“What’s blackout night?” you ask.
He laughs. “Once a month, they turn down the lights and people mess around.”
"Wow," you say.
Len laughs, and slaps at his pockets, eventually finding a crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. But when he flicks the lighter, the bartender's voice calls out, "No smoking!" Len curses, and flicks the lighter shut.
Then he nods at you. "Why don't we make the game interesting?"
You look at the shot, now even harder in the dimmer light. "Like, a bet?"
"Yeah," Len says.
"Like, loser buys the winner a beer?" you ask.
"Sure," Len says, then lowers his voice. "Or maybe a favor."
You say...
