BADASS HORROR Sample Pool Sharks by Gerard Brennan Wexford boy comes towards me with his hand extended. In a show of good sport I go to shake it but the guy looks at me like I have fifty-two heads. Then I realise that he wasn’t trying to be my pal. He wanted to be paid. I take the note from my pocket and utter a prayer of thanks that the lack of lighting in this place hides my blushing cheeks. The darkness doesn’t do anything for the feeling of defeat though. It doesn’t help my paranoia either. I imagine the locals sniggering into their beers and making obscene gestures behind my back. Just another smart arse northerner taken on by a bunch of hillbillies he felt superior to half way through the first pint. Pretty fucking embarrassing, if I do say so myself. “Give us another go, mate.” I am astounded to hear these words coming from my own mouth. This has to be pride talking. Maybe insanity.

“I will in me stones,” says he. (That means no, right?)

If I were in a better mood just then I would have laughed at that eloquent phrase. Instead I feel fury rising in my gut like lava. This ugly gap-toothed southerner had made me look like an idiot and now he didn’t even have the decency to show me some manners. Not even a chance to win back the money I lost. I feel my grip tighten around the pool cue. I survey my surroundings in anticipation of the murderous swing I’m about to deploy in the general direction of this fuck’s head. It looks like there is plenty of room. This boy’s head is split.

But then he surprises me.

“Come on ye fucker ye,” he announces. “I’ll buy ye a drink.”

He turns his back to me and moves towards the bar leaving me speechless. When he senses that I’m not following, he looks over his shoulder.

“Ye can leave that stick behind and all,” He says, “Give some other northerner a chance to lose some money.”

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