Today Droog has commandeered one of the spare rooms on the tenth floor and converted it into a billiards hall, dark wood paneling and brass fittings gleaming in the low, warm lighting
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[This is not the Dean Winchester you first met, Diamonds Droog. This Dean Winchester has recently suffered through a 'bout of particularly painful torture, and appears to be missing his left pinky finger (notice the bandages) and his right eye (the dashing gauze wrapped at a jaunty angle).
He offers a two-fingered salute and smirks. After practicing out on his makeshift rifle range, the lack of another eye hasn't really screwed up his aim, so a go at billiards would be nice.]
Comments 147
pool is the last fucking thing this place needs
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if you catch my drift diamonds
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That's not why I set it up.
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Or rather: bring it.
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Not bad.
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He tosses the spare cue across, same as he did for Dean, but there's a militant edge to the casual motion. Because this isn't a game.
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He offers a two-fingered salute and smirks. After practicing out on his makeshift rifle range, the lack of another eye hasn't really screwed up his aim, so a go at billiards would be nice.]
All the damn time. You up for a game?
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All the games, all of them, etc., and he'll make no immediate comment on the gauze. Most injuries that don't kill you seem casual, to him.
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Where's the billiards hall?
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Tenth floor.
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The more people who play, the more opponents he has. Win-win.
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