Minutes later, the green felt of the pool table was left with the strain of three balls. One stripe, one solid, and of course the 8. Peter twirled the cue a moment, thinking as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, then flashed her a smirk, "By the way, there's a small a 50% chance I'm going to lose this game, and I think I should warn you I have no decoder ring. However, I can find a cracker jack box down the street."
He winked before pulling the cue up, and leveling it as he settled behind the table. As he stared at the table, it became the same as when swinging through the city. Knew exactly when to let go, when to kick off, when to twirl or spin. He knew at what angle to hit a building to slide, how to fire a web ball from half a mile away and hit a target. The fact was, his mind saw angles like they were words on pages. It was how one hung upside down, on one finger, on the pinpoint of a skyscraper.
He let out a breath and struck the solid. The ball sailed forward and hit one wall, then bounced into another. He'd applied just enough strength, to watch the ricochet off the second wall send the ball sailing straight into the corner pocket he'd been standing near. Stepping back, he grinned and winked, "It's growing intense. You're going to have to think about that fake name you're going to give me."
He winked jokingly, and looked to her. He wanted to know her name. So he put more focus into this second shot, and called the far corner pocket. He struck the 8 square with the cue ball, and sent it sailing at an angle at the wall, and let it roll down along the edge and into the far corner hole.