The place was murky as only a pool hall can be--stale cigarettes cut by the acrid metallic reek of poppers. The taint of the damn things caught in Joe's throat and made his head pound. He hated them and his boy didn't need them. The honest smell of sweaty men was almost lost under the funk of sex laced with everyone's favorite poison.
The latest metal hit blasted out of the sound system loud enough to cover casual conversation, Def Leppard singing about getting rocked.
If Joe had his way, the whole bar would get rocked by what was about to go down.
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