 • HuffleStud • Knight of The Zodiac • Manly Beard-Grower • Cicatrice de Harry •
...well...I hope you enjoy food poisoning, It took a lot for Curtis to not laugh... well, he tried not to anyway before the chuckles escaped from the two heads speaking up. One in particular he hadn't heard such a tone except from.. the closest person he ever referred to as a mother. He gulped as if he was trying to catch his breath from the chuckles. But perhaps it was something else on his mind then that made it indistinguishable.
"I'll take my chances... maybe even give you a few tips in the kitchen. My papa shared some of his cooking skills with me when I moved out," Shrugging, "But I can always stock up on some Pepperup Potions in advance... unless you can keep your lead up," Winking.
Sometime after their first lane. Curtis's competitive drive took over, sure he could've been gracious, but perhaps it was the deep respect and wanting to meet the standards of Sadie? Or the future contents of his stomach's fate that influenced him to go for his all. The smug looks he would've shared and likely received back was the icing on top. His first lane was definitely a warm up. Outside the one 7/10 split, he'd been rolling spares and strikes. Which Sadie did so one-upping with apparent ease. And now... it was down to the final bowl.
Curtis was in the lead, 133 versus Sadie's 115. But his best score could only be up to 193 versus Sadie's 205. His hair that had been perfectly neat had loose strands over his forehead that glistened from the heat of the light. The glistening matched the shine threw the unbutton shirt of his. He would need another spare to stay in. 3 strikes would be the best, but even then, Sadie could still win with a spare or two. It was too much thinking about the score as he wiped his forehand with his bare knuckle. They were currently up to a dozen bets regarding dinners and lunch dates, among other activities. He turned to Sadie, keeping his cool, "Well.. we have yet to decide on dessert. I'm partial to some pie," Sighing as he took the aim and rolled the head down.
BAM!
A strike. Curtis pumped his fist back, before his next turn. Another strike. Then the final one..... 7. Magical 7. No spare unfortunately, leaving it at 190. "Welp... there we have it," What would Sadie need? At least a strike and a higher spare to beat him. No pressure. Ahem.
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