“Between you, me, and the wall, I don’t know what to do!” I said in fear, “I think he found out!”
“Well, you shouldn’t have cheated, bruh,” my friend Chase said.
“I needed the money!” I exclaimed.
“Doesn’t matter. You knew you were going to lose that game.”

One week before this, I went to a bar to play pool for some money. I thought I would walk away with a few bucks, but I ended up winning big. However, in order to gain this money, I cheated…

I grabbed the metal handle and opened the thick wooden door to a crowd of middle-aged men, all laughing, patting each other’s backs, and yelling, “Hey man! It’s good to see you!” The fragrance of old-masculine cologne, alcohol, and cigar smoke filled the air. To many, this smell would have been repulsive, but to me, I loved it. Everyone was wearing their fancy cowboy boots and their heavy leather jackets. I looked over to the pool tables to see if one was open and grabbed a stick. Once I approached the tables, I felt a hefty tap on my shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve heard about you. You’re Bradley Hunter. Nice to meet you.” The stranger said as he reached out his meaty hand. I shook it. His grip was steady and firm, and his eyes locked with mine. I nodded my head while holding onto my pool stick.

“Grady Francis, but you can call me G,” He stated deeply as he looked down at me. His frame was bulky and intimidating. He towered over me and had a long, black, bushy beard that I knew gave him an overpowering amount of confidence. He held a toothpick in his mouth and an old cowboy hat on his head.
“You’re a big shot, eh? Taking everyone’s money, huh?” He chuckled, “Oh, never play Bradley Hunter’s all I hear’. But buddy… I hate to tell you this, but tonight… you’ve met your match.”
“Uh-”
“Five grand!” He yelled as he cut me off. “Five big ones if you win.”
“Sir…”
“Oh.. are you backing down?” He said, “The ‘big Bradley Hunter’ is backing down!” while his expression changed. He shouted to the rest of the people at the bar.
“Sir…”
“What??” He said in my face, “What??”
“You know what. You’re on.” I told him with assertiveness.
He reached under the table and grabbed the wooden rack. He gathered up and strategically placed every ball in its spot within the rack, quickly jerked it forward and back, and put his thick fingers in the bottom of the rack to squeeze them tightly together.
“Your break big shot.” He said while looking over at me.
I took my stick and went over to the cue ball. I squatted down, ran the end of the stick through my fingers until it was fully stable, and then thrusted my stick forward and back.
Crack!
The cue ball smashed into the structured group like an explosion, and the balls flew all over the table. I watched a solid and a stripe fall. With the open table, I observed my options and decided my best choice was to go for stripes. As the game progressed, G displayed his immense skill and calculations. His judgment on angles and spin was always on point, and it was clear he was extremely experienced. He carried an arrogant smile through every single one of his shots, until the last one. After sinking all of his balls, G shot on the 8-ball. My heart dropped when I saw I was about to lose, but then, I had an idea. I knew by observing his skill that he would sink this shot, so I decided to try to maneuver the cue ball into falling into a pocket after he made the 8-Ball, which would be an automatic loss.
“Hmph.” He growled after he squatted down for this last shot. His toothy grin grew as his eyes performed the calculations of where to make contact with the ball. After the cue ball made contact, he looked away,
“Ball game.” He said as he turned away.
While he turned away in complete confidence, I slickly redirected the cue ball with my stick so it was in line with the pocket closest to me.
“Oh, not so fast,” I said as the cue ball slowly rolled towards the pocket.
I heard the 8-ball drop into his intended pocket, so if this white ball goes in, I win. I looked up, and his round, bulky face began turning red as a single drop of sweat traveled down his forehead. His once boastful expression turned to fear as I was inches away from winning.
Plop.
“No! Come on! There’s no way!” His deep voice yelled, “I lined it up perfectly! There was no way I could have scratched!”
“Sorry, bud. Looks like you have met your match.” I said with a smirk.
He looked at me in disbelief, tightened his grip on his skinny pool stick, and shook his head.
“Remach! Double or nothing!”
“I’m sorry, man, but you lost fair and square,” I responded.
He started to pace back and forth and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out his bulky wallet and started to count.
I thought to myself: Why is he carrying around this much money? I thought to myself. Well, I guess there’s probably no one dumb enough to try to jump this guy.
“I am a man of my word.” He stated as he handed over the money, “Five big ones.”
“Thank you,” I said while I took it. My decision was cheap, but I couldn’t lose the money. As soon as I put the money away, I saw him talking to one of the managers, so I anxiously made my way out of the bar and left immediately…

“So you think he looked at the security cams?” Chase asked
“I know he did! I saw him talking to a manager, and he found my Facebook and told me everything he saw! He said he’s coming over right now because one of his friends found my location!” I responded.
“There’s no way. He’s probably bluffing and just wants you to wire him back the money.”

Just then, a black beamer pulled up with its humming engine in my driveway. I looked out the window and saw his round face, black, scratchy beard. I made eye contact with him, and he formed his terrifying, smug grin.