Rupert bestrides the green baize like some modern day Apollo*, layer upon layer (upon layer) of relaxed stomach mussel rippling** on his bronzed*** torso. His mastery of the balls extends beyond his favourite sport of pocket billiards to the more technically demanding pool table, a fact he ably demonstrated at the local hostelry last night. The creed of the true sportsman dictates that all opponents are given equal respect and to fail to give your all, no matter how weak the opponent, is a sign of disrespect. With this in mind, Rupert gives every shot his utmost attention. Picture the scene the slim wasted jeans edging ever closer to his knees revealing that little glimpse of bottom cleavage the the ladies like so much. Chalk and re-chalk the cue, consider the angles, weigh up the shot, don’t be distracted by the hecklers, they are only jealous, then strike! Behold the perfection… bask in the silence of the stunned crowd. Only then do you listen to the small and insignificant voice beside you asking “But aren’t you red?”
*There are many sporting deities, Nike, Victoria, Artemis, Diana etc. but, unfortunately, most are female so Apollo – the male Greek god of Archery – will have to do.
**Strictly speaking, wobbling
*** Strictly speaking hairy
