Lester 'Turtle' Finch slowly walks around the table for the fourth time, eyeing the pink ball. He gets into the textbook snooker stance, goes down with his cue, not taking his eyes off the pink ball. He strokes five times before getting up and chalking his cue, then he goes again only to get up once more.

Rex's blood is boiling. He usually deals with this type of situation by smoking cigarettes, but he's all out. Finally, Lester pots the pink ball and then eyes the frame-winning black ball. Rex sprints out of his chair and throws the black ball to the ground.

"I was about to pot that"

Rex scoffed. "You damn slowpoke! If I knew you were gonna play like this, I would've shaved my head bald, as I knew it would grow right back by the end of the match."

Lester put his cue down. "Well, since I've won 4-3, you owe me a cup of tea."

Rex rolled his eyes. "You and tea. Drink beer, man. It's for men."

Lester waves his hand. "Tea is relaxing; it helps me focus in a match."

"Oh please, Lester, you don't need five minutes to decide which simple red you're gonna pot... and then you follow it up by missing the simple red. You gotta be quick on the table. That's why you haven't won as much."

"I am a world champion and yo—"

"Oh, don't start it, Turtle!"

"Oi, thanks for the free extra drinks, blokes. We'll be off. See ya at the world championships," says Mickey as he opens the door for Julian, and they leave.

Lester slowly smokes his cigarette and sips his tea. "Ah, Julian watching him play snooker is like seeing the majestic Sphinx."

"What's so majestic about a bitch's head glued to a lion?"

"I meant Julian's strength as a player. He is truly remarkable.It's always nice to see him."

Rex was getting annoyed but suddenly smirked. "I still can't believe you lost the world championship final to him last year."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"You were 13-8 up and lost 18-14. How is that possible?"

Lester put his teacup down and wiped his lips with a handkerchief. "He didn't miss, that's how."

Rex drank his beer before he spoke. "Whatever, I'll win this year."

"You haven't played a professional match since you got banned for 12 months. You must be rusty."

Rex waved dismissively. "Nah, I've been practicing regularly. I'm aching to play someone, and I'll win it this year."

"You're reaching old age, Rex."

Rex scoffs. "Oh please, age doesn't matter. I don't know what's with you, Lester. You should fancy yourself winning the championship every year like a true winner."

Lester shrugs. "I go where the wind takes me. And I assume you really fancy yourself winning this year?"

Rex laughed. "I fancy myself winning it every year."

Rex drank the last of his beer and put the money on the table. "See ya around, Turtle. I gotta go write my name on the qualifiers list."