Salvage

Last night, drunk (again), Jimmy reaffirmed (to anyone who'd listen),
"I AM the pool table king!"

Today, he's nursing his head, but somehow retains that polarising arrogance.

11 am: the pool hall doors burst open.

Light permeates the low-ceilinged, sticky-carpeted den, silhouetting another regular, Ian, with his cue and what looks like his mini-me.

Ian immediately challenges Jimmy,
"My cousin, Leon: he's 12; put your money where your mouth is, doucheball."

Two hours and £440 lighter, the kid's destroyed Jimmy.

With his very last tenner, Jimmy asks, "Ian, Leon: whatcha drinking?", salvaging any last vestige of dignity.

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Brief:

Best Bits!

This week the theme is: "Salvage":

1. Post a piece of your writing that is about this theme;
2. No more than 100 words (10% absolute margin allowed - 110 words);
   • NB: Please don't put me in the place of having to choose whether to edit or not include your entry. Please always DOUBLE CHECK the word length!