The night hung heavy over the bustling streets of New York City, where the neon lights painted the pavement with a kaleidoscope of colors. In a dimly lit pool hall tucked away in a corner of the city, the clinking of balls echoed through the air as a game of billiards unfolded. At the center of it all stood Montana, known to the criminal underworld as Shocker.

Dressed in his signature cowboy hat and leather vest, Montana leaned over the pool table, his lasso coiled neatly at his side. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he sent the cue ball rolling across the green felt, sinking a striped ball into the corner pocket with precision.

"Looks like you're falling behind, boys," Montana drawled in his unmistakable Southern accent, a smirk playing on his lips. "Guess you'll be buying me a round when this is over."

His companions, Ox and Fancy Dan, grumbled good-natured, exchanging glances as they sized up their next shots.