Hi Terry!
Lois leaned on her cue and sized up her next shot – a two-bank carom that would knock in the twelve ball and set her up with a good angle at the eight ball.
/laughs about her calling her shots/
Lois shrugged. “Well, I’ve had the table for almost an hour, and I’ve got a good stake for my next poker game. But I’m game for another one. Any takers?”
So, where do we place her. I’m guessing pre-pilot Lois but post-college.
No one spoke for a moment, then a baritone voice spoke from the front door. “How about me?”
A farm hick enters a billiard joint…
Her voice froze. It was suddenly quiet enough to hear a cricket burp. Her next challenger was Superman.
Oh. So, Season 1, then. He does know that blowing on the cue ball isn’t allowed, right?
She made the decision to rip her husband a new one when they got home.
He grinned. “Just call me Superman, please. And no, I don’t carry money. I can, however, bet a ten-minute flight over the city, payable tonight, if I lose. Is that good enough?”
*squints* I don’t think so, but she’ll have to take it for appearance’s sake.
Before he took the shot, Lois said, “I don’t think you’re allowed to float above the table like that.”
They don’t have rules about his feet needing to stay on the ground, do they?
“You sank the eight ball without calling your shot. You lose.” She shoved the bill back into her jeans pocket. “I think you owe me a ten-minute flight over the city.”
She not playing fair.
She almost laughed in his face. “I’m ready now. I want you to fly me home so I can tell my husband how I beat Superman at eight-ball.”
*nods* Yes, by distracting him with her feminine whiles.
LOIS: I just outsmarted him.
Same difference.
Quite entertaining and well crafted. Well, the usual stuff, I guess
Michael