Nine Ball

Nine ball.

That was it for us back then.

That was our game.

Game, hell, it was a religion.

Yeah, we lived for Friday- - Friday nights

at Lucky's Tavern.

Doug's Uncle Frank owned the place.

He'd let us come in after hours,

and we would shoot pool till the next morning.

with drinks on the- - With drinks on the house.

Shit, all we had to do was clean things up a little bit,

and the place was ours.

That was the life, all right.

Back then, things were simple.

You start out- - With the one ball,

and you work your way up.

See, that was the great thing about nine ball.

Everybody knew the rules up front,

so you took your shot.

That was it. - That was it.

There was no regrets, no fucking apologies.

Good or bad, you lived with it 'cause sometimes

it's your night- - Sometimes it's your night.

Sometimes it's not.

Hey, old man.

Did you know this is private property?

Yeah, d'you lose something?

Fess up, old man.

Sh.

- Whoa, he's got it going on. - Oh-ho.

Stop being funny, come on.

Come on, baby.

Oh, man, the way that looked, it gotta hurt.

Ah, you motherfucker, you got popped.

I need a drink.

Okay, one bottle of bourbon coming up.

So, where are we?

What, you don't remember?

Yes, I fucking remember, Doug.

I just wanna know where you're starting this time, huh?

You're always changing things on me.

You have to do that?

- Hey, you gotta keep the shelve stocked,

Uncle Frank's orders.

With what, broken empty bottles?

Place has been closed how many years?

Closed? Oh, this place'll never close,

not as long as you're around to open it up every night.

Look, we should be getting started here, don't you think?

Why don't we, give it a rest, huh?

I could use a break, you know.

I can't do it.

Why not?

Because you might forget.

Yeah, well maybe I wanna forget.

- Well, what happened to no regrets and no apologies?

- Okay, fine, fine, let's just get it over with.

All right, fair enough.

It's just after 2:00.

I'm behind the counter wiping things down.

No, your stupid then.

Tell a better joke.

Bobby and Cooper just showed

up about 10 minutes ago,

and they're in the middle of a warmup game.

Mother said

no thanks to sex. - And you're not here yet.

Where am I?

I imagine you're headed

down the middle of Sixth Avenue

just after terrorizing that poor guy in his caddy.

You're jumping ahead.

Sorry.

You don't get it, do you?

What about George?

We'll get to George later.

You guys need a beer?

Several.

Bob?

Whatever's on tap.

Bob, one more time, slowly.

Hank's son, Wilbur, pulls the hose out the bull's ass.

- He was too old to blow hard enough, so he gave up.

But see, you're missing the point.

So, what is the point?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey.

What game are we playing?

Because that was a definite miss.

Call it, Doug.

Ball in hand on a miss or a scratch.

Do it on the nine, and you're gone.

- The point is Wilbur would've rather blown

on the end of the hose that was in the bull's ass

than the end Hank was blowing on .

- But that doesn't make any sense at all.

- Of course not, and that's what makes it funny.

Right.

I never got that one either.

Are you kidding me?

I love that fucking joke.

Hey, here's to good old Uncle Frank.

He's talking about selling the place.

Oh, he's not serious, is he?

It's been pretty fucking slow.

Oh, it's slow all over, baby.

Probably just the weather, huh?

Oh, it's the whether all right,

whether you go out at night and have a good time,

or you, uh, got money to pay your rent.

If it wasn't for this place once a week,

I wouldn't have a nightlife.

- I don't know if I'd call this a nightlife.

Are you serious, man?

An an open pool table, all the booze you can guzzle,

you can't ask for a better deal than this.

All I got to say is thank you Uncle Frank

and thank God it's Friday .

Mm, that's good.

So, Dougie, how's a little woman?

- Great, she's actually starting to feel things.

Kicks?

Uh, it's more like flutters.

That is cool, man.

How much longer?

Four months.

No shit?

Hey, it gets better.

Just wait till you start seeing

elbows and shit moving around in there .

- But what the hell would you know about it?

I got a pregnant cousin.

- More like you got a cousin pregnant.

- Hello, first off, Cooper, we don't do cousins.

We leave that shit

to you white trash, in-breeding, Alabama motherfuckers.

It's Mississippi.

Same thing.

Like hell it is.

Oh, see that proves it right there.

Proves what?

"Like hell it is."

Only two kind of people use that expression,

Alabamans and Mississippians .

- How 'bout the expression suck my dick?

Oh, no, my brother.

See that one, it's universal .

Oh, God.

Hey, Doug.

Was Jerry in here tonight?

- I sent him home about an hour ago, why?

Well, I don't think he quite made it.

Somebody better get that boy

a cab or something, damn .

You all right there, Jerry?

Frank, is that you, Frank?

No, it's Doug.

Yeah, well, this is Frank's bar.

Where's Frank?

Frank's got the night off.

- Speaking of drunks, anyone hurt from Nicky?

He called earlier, said he'd be here.

How's he doing?

So far so good, I guess.

Says he hasn't had a drop since the night we got into it.

Three weeks?

Good for him.

- Don't suppose either one of you want to gimme a hand.

Oh, yes.

Oh, very cute, guys.

- It's a good thing he lives across the street.

Hold the fort down.

I'll be back in a few.

Don't forget to kiss him goodnight.

- You know, it'll be good to see Nicky again.

Asshole.

- Man, he was just fucked up, all right?

I get fucked up all the time.

Don't mean I beat the hell out of my best friend.

What the hell do you know about it?

- You have a different recollection of that night?

- Let's you and me get something straight here, Doug, okay?

I may be a drunk, but I'm not senile.

I got my memories.

If I didn't-

I wouldn't be here.

Point well taken.

But then again, a picture's worth 1,000 words.

Humor me a minute, will ya?

Okay, it's three weeks earlier.

We're about to get into it, and as usual,

Cooper's telling one of his lame jokes.

- And a Wilbur looks up and says, "Well, shit, daddy,

I ain't gonna blow on the same end you did ."

I don't get it.

You wouldn't.

Oh, shit.

I must confess I am redneck joke illiterate.

Wait a minute.

What?

I thought you said you were hitting the seven.