THE POOL GAME.
An Excerpt from the Novel, Career Opportunities, by Ian Hunter
Vince's eyes sparkled with glee as he realized that, for the
first time in his life, he might come out on top; even if it was only a game of
pool. He came around the table and lined up the ball. Johnny retrieved his cue
from he carpet, clutched it to his chest, and stared at the table with a face
like thunder. Vince launched a rocket - a ludicrous bolt of a shot that reeked
of over confidence and little thought about where it would leave the white in
relation to the black. The first miracle was that the red went in the pocket but it was even more of a fluke when the white
finally came to a halt six inches behind the black that Johnny had left
teetering in the jaws of the corner pocket.
Vince was on the verge of a life-changing event. His
cockiness increased as he circled the table several times, exploring different
positions from which to execute the final shot. His show-boating was rubbing
salt into Johnny's wounds and it was becoming evident upon his face. “Get on
with it, yer fat fuck.” growled Johnny. “I could sink that with me dick.”
Vince came around the table once more and couldn't help
giving Johnny a smug grin as he bent over the edge of he table and began to
line up the final humiliation. He prodded Johnny in the guts with the butt of
the cue. "Stand back and give me some space why don'tcha?"
This was cowboy talk. Johnny shuffled back a couple of
minuscule paces and continued to glare; his face resembling a man chewing a
lemon. Vince rested his gut on the lip of the table like a half inflated space
hopper, and lent over the baize. It was too much for Johnny who turned and
headed towards the door. "Fuck this for a game 'o' soldiers. I'm off to
look for that whinging twat and find out if he managed to lift any food."
A groan emitted from the sofa dwellers as the spectre of
being robbed of the finale began to appear. Jason launched a plastic cup in the
direction of Bullets. "C'mon
Johnny! Let him have his moment of glory. What are you? A man or a pot
noodle?"
Johnny dawdled to a halt and swung around in tempered
fashion before slumping against the door. "Come on you fat bastard, just
take the fuckin' shot, and hurry up about it." Johnny dropped the tip of
his cue towards the floor and began to tap it with impatience but Vince was not
going to bow to the pressure. He gave Johnny the finger before resuming his
stance. Jason looked at Paolo and raised his eyebrows with comic expectation.
Vince was getting cocky and success was going to his head.
Jason caught Johnny's
eye and he sensed the presence of a very evil thought. It wasn’t too difficult
to see what Johnny was contemplating. Even Vince would have picked up on it,
had he not been splayed across the pool table. It was also true to say that,
had Vince not been bent over the table, Johnny would not have been
contemplating it. Johnny raised the tip of the cue from the floor and took a
practice swipe of the air. The ensuing whoosh did nothing to alert the target.
Jason could feel the urge to raise the alarm. His body jumped and his hands
clamped themselves across his mouth. Johnny squared his stance and began to
take the first of three bouncing strides. Jason buried is head in his neck and
finally opened his mouth to scream. The switch suddenly flicked back the other
way. He knew he shouldn't stay silent but the quickly approaching spectacle was
bound to raise some hilarity- with the obvious exception of Vince.
By stride number two
the cue was drawn, and with the final leap, Johnny brought it through and
played for the boundary. The cue landed with an almighty thwack. An arse
stinging stroke that any sadistic schoolmaster would have wanked himself to
sleep over. Vince's pubic covered head seemed to shoot forward on his never
before seen neck. The noise from his mouth was like that of a pig being
slaughtered. A deafening, lingering high
pitched shriek that sent Jason's head cowering deep between his shoulders. It
was as if he had felt the contact himself.
The cue ball vaulted off the table as Vince slumped into a
heap across it, grasping his buttocks in unimaginable pain. Johnny let forth
with a callous laugh. "Foul shot
Chemo! My game I think?."
Jason, ever the hypocrite, gasped. "You rotten bastard
Johnny! He didn't fucking deserve that. How would you have liked it?"
Johnny gave a look of dramatic over-surprise. "I only
tapped him. He'll be alright." He glanced at the lump on the table, 'Won't you Vince?"
Vince remained laid over the baize; his face still contorted
with grimace. Tears were beginning to roll down his great fat cheeks, his body
shuddering with the unmistakable sound of sobbing. Johnny cottoned on that his
vindictive histrionics had failed to endorse his position as number one
musketeer and he began to back pedal. "Aw, c'mon Vince, I was just having
a laugh; I didn't mean to hit you that hard." It was a blatant lie and Vince knew it. A stabbing elbow to
Johnny's stomach abruptly removed his hand from Vince’s shoulder.
The eyebrows of those on the sofa remained raised with disdain
as Johnny continued his penitent charade."Alright, Alright!" Johnny
raised his palms and tried very hard to look sorry. He approached Vince's
throbbing rump and tried once more. "Look Vince, I'm sorry mate. It was a
really shit thing to do. I'm just a bit pissed and I didn't think before I did it. I really am very sorry."
Johnny was in full effect. He shaped his tenor tones into
the voice he used to snare his women. A calming and believable monologue that
was as commendable in its audacity as it was effective. It began to penetrate
the blubber and Vince began to stir. He raised himself onto his elbows, wiped
the tears from his cheeks and finally allowed Johnny to place a brotherly hand
upon his shoulder.
"I really am truly sorry mate, continued Johnny, “To be
honest I wasn't actually aiming for your arse." He pulled himself towards
Vince's lobe-less ear and let out a roar. "I was aiming for your big fat
Chemo head!”
Career Opportunities is available at Amazon
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