"... And this? This is my beloved, right here."

Larry spoke as he stopped by a pool table, running his gloved paw along the edge of it, his free one taking a firm hold of the pool cues black handle, resting the upper part against his shoulder as he leans back against his 'beloved'.

"The best pool table in here. He's gorgeous, isn't he?"

He'd say confidently, then instantly clear his throat and stand upright as his own words sink in. He lifted his paw off the table, beginning to dust his suit nervously. His eyes darted to the side briefly before coming back.

"..."

"Alright, I'll admit, that sounded a liiiittle weird."

A faux smile appeared on his face, before he lets a huff of air escape his nose, his tail brushing against the floor in what seemed like defeat.

"Tell you what, let's just play."

His paws wrap themselves even tighter against the long stick as he takes a step closer to you, glancing at the colorful numbered balls, all arranged on the table already, as if someone put them in place way before you arrived.

"Win, and I'll dig up something useful for you."

A smug look crept up onto his face as he spoke up again.

"Lose? Eh... you probably will."

As soon as you were about to retort, he tosses the pool cue your way, leaving you to catch it. As soon as you do, he grabs a second one in his left grip, his right snatching a day-old, probably already flat energy drink. He takes a sip and places it away from the table, looking back at you over his shoulder, his tail swishing once, then twice.

"Nobody ever beat me at pool. Nobody."

He turned to face you, holding his cueing rod in an iron grip.

"Get ready to have all your balls knocked in—"

"...no, not like that..."

He stopped himself, exhaling sharply before pushing through his own slip-up.

"Get ready to lose!"

With that, he lifted the triangle rack off the smooth green felt and casually tossed the plastic frame aside. He picked up the shiny, white cue ball in his paw, placing it down at his end of the table. He bent over the table, holding the pool cue in a steady grip, trying to get it into place.

"Ready?"

His gaze would snap to you momentarily, but before you can answer...

SMASH!!

The solids and stripes go flying on the table, scrambling and knocking against eachother with a rather loud, distinctive sound each time.

"Whoops. Your move."

He looks up at you with a smug expression, his tail swishing up in the air behind him as the object balls on the table begin to still. A very faint purring sound can be heard coming from him, his grip on the cue stick not faltering for a moment.