The crackling doors open and the windows shake as if they're about to fall off. Inside, the air is covered in smoke, ash of cigarettes everywhere the eye can see. AC/DC music is playing loudly, five snooker tables down and one table upstairs.

A tall man wearing a pink shirt, in his late 30s and nearly balding, is playing fast, as lighting on the table in the left corner. Red, black, red, black; he's on a break of 96, not too far off from a maximum break of 147, before he misses the red on the cushion.

"Oh, too bad, mate," one of the watchers says. The onlookers, numbering five, are disappointed. They have never witnessed a live maximum break in their lives. One of the onlookers slowly takes out a cigarette, puts it to his lips, looks around for his lighter, then lights up the cigarette, inhales deeply, and puffs out the smoke. He slowly licks his lips, feeling the smoke of the tobacco before speaking, "You should've taken your time."

"Oh, shut it, Lester," the man wearing a pink shirt replies. "I do not procrastinate; they don't call me Rex 'Rocket' Ryan for nothing!"

 Lester shrugs, almost as if he were in slow motion. Rex then begins setting up the balls for another frame. An elderly, short, chubby man with a gray ponytail and a long beard limps towards Rex.

"Come on, Rex, you've been here for 8 hours playing. Don't you think it's enough? You'll drive me customers away," says the owner of the bar, Angus 'Goat' McGregor.

"I can't stop, Goat. Once you've played snooker, you can never stop. It's worse than alcohol. Snooker is the greatest sport in the history of the world and the hardest. The 147 maximum, potting 15 reds and 15 blacks, then the colors: yellow, green, brown, blue, pink, and the final black. 36 shots. Nothing's harder, and I will achieve the maximum, you mark my words."

The old man sips his beer. "Rex, I know you're obsessed with snooker. Hell, even I am when the championships arrive. But I'd say I enjoy football more."

Rex scoffs, "Football? I don't consider it a real sport."

Almost everyone heard him and turned their heads to Rex. "What do you mean?" one man said.

Rex responded seriously, "In football, you run... run like a little bitch! But in snooker, you stand and FIGHT! There is no running from your problems; you face them head-on. Every mistake you make is on you, and every great thing you do, there is no one to assist you or to leech off your success. In snooker, it's you and the table, and that is why it is the best sport. And I, Rex 'Rocket' Ryan, am the greatest snooker player of all time!"

They all clapped with joy. Rex always brought so much life into the old pub.

"Don't flatter yourself, Rex." Everyone went quiet when they saw who had arrived. The music was turned down; just silence remained. Some spilled their drinks and some even gulped at the sheer presence of this man. Even the Rocket started to scratch his neck. It was the man he despised the most.