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Description
Part One
The lights flicker in the smoke filled room. It was anything but silent in there. The clinking of glasses, cursing, yelling, and the crashing of pool balls filled the atmosphere. At the pool table there was a disgruntled group of men. They were being beaten by the new guy in town….well, woman in town. A thin, yet curvatious woman leaned over the table to line up her next shot. Her red thong poked out the back of her tight, black leather pants. The men across the table caught sight of her black bra under her ripped, red beater with a black skull on the front. She blew her black and red, shaggy locks out of her face, tilted her head, and winked at the men. She sunk yet another shot with her hand-made, red and black pool cue. By now, the men were pissed. Since they couldn’t fight a woman, they brought out the big guns: the wives. You could tell that these women belonged with their men. With their greasy, teased hair, large build, and tattoos, the wondering pool hustler was anything but scared. She pressed a button on her pool cue and out of the bottom popped blue chalk. She calmly chalked her hands and slipped her black cloak onto the bar next to her. “Can I help you….ladies?” spoke the newcomer.
“You’re doing everything but helping us, darling,” drawled the largest and ugliest of the group.
“Well, think of it this way,” said the hustler,” I could be doing something worse than hustling your money. I mean, nothing but your wallet is hurting.”
“That’s it!” shouted the one with the most tattoos. She jumped at the hustler like a savage beast. The hustler simply moved to the side and stuck out her pool cue. The tattooed woman hit the bar face first, knocked out her only remaining tooth (the one she used to open her beer bottles and cans of creamed corn), and was unmoving.
“One down, three more to go,” breathed the hustler. The other woman, with innumerable piercings lunged at her throat next. She quickly reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out what seemed to be an ordinary one ball. She threw it at the feet of her assailant. Blue chalk smoke filled in the gap between them. The hustler jumped into the cloud and, with lightning speed, used her pool cue as a bow staff and struck multiple times. Two down, one to go. The hustler stood nonchalantly against her pool cue. The last woman went to jump. The hustler spun her pool cue in between her fingers once above her head, and rested it on her shoulder, handle facing backwards. Darts flew out of the tip. A few nicked her arm, causing her blood to flow. The others pinned her to the wall.
“Anyone else care to try?” the hustler called out to the bar.
“I think you’ve scared them all away, Maxx” came a voice in the shadows.
“HAYNER!” Maxx yelled. She sprinted at him and glomped him. They embraced each other then stared into each others eyes.

Description
Part One
The lights flicker in the smoke filled room. It was anything but silent in there. The clinking of glasses, cursing, yelling, and the crashing of pool balls filled the atmosphere. At the pool table there was a disgruntled group of men. They were being beaten by the new guy in town….well, woman in town. A thin, yet curvatious woman leaned over the table to line up her next shot. Her red thong poked out the back of her tight, black leather pants. The men across the table caught sight of her black bra under her ripped, red beater with a black skull on the front. She blew her black and red, shaggy locks out of her face, tilted her head, and winked at the men. She sunk yet another shot with her hand-made, red and black pool cue. By now, the men were pissed. Since they couldn’t fight a woman, they brought out the big guns: the wives. You could tell that these women belonged with their men. With their greasy, teased hair, large build, and tattoos, the wondering pool hustler was anything but scared. She pressed a button on her pool cue and out of the bottom popped blue chalk. She calmly chalked her hands and slipped her black cloak onto the bar next to her. “Can I help you….ladies?” spoke the newcomer.
“You’re doing everything but helping us, darling,” drawled the largest and ugliest of the group.
“Well, think of it this way,” said the hustler,” I could be doing something worse than hustling your money. I mean, nothing but your wallet is hurting.”
“That’s it!” shouted the one with the most tattoos. She jumped at the hustler like a savage beast. The hustler simply moved to the side and stuck out her pool cue. The tattooed woman hit the bar face first, knocked out her only remaining tooth (the one she used to open her beer bottles and cans of creamed corn), and was unmoving.
“One down, three more to go,” breathed the hustler. The other woman, with innumerable piercings lunged at her throat next. She quickly reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out what seemed to be an ordinary one ball. She threw it at the feet of her assailant. Blue chalk smoke filled in the gap between them. The hustler jumped into the cloud and, with lightning speed, used her pool cue as a bow staff and struck multiple times. Two down, one to go. The hustler stood nonchalantly against her pool cue. The last woman went to jump. The hustler spun her pool cue in between her fingers once above her head, and rested it on her shoulder, handle facing backwards. Darts flew out of the tip. A few nicked her arm, causing her blood to flow. The others pinned her to the wall.
“Anyone else care to try?” the hustler called out to the bar.
“I think you’ve scared them all away, Maxx” came a voice in the shadows.
“HAYNER!” Maxx yelled. She sprinted at him and glomped him. They embraced each other then stared into each others eyes.