A Stranger Pool

An Earth-prince may have to down his own (estranged) father at a pool-tourney for a 'wrought' distance for (American) sportsmanship field goals (for all!).

A tale of a pool-guy, for Xmas-Day. Happy reading (and thanks for reading), 

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Amlan Satan had become a happy Echelon/Jersey salesman and video-game competitor (Madden) in the Homeland but had harbored a 'stranger' secret concerning his estranged immigrant father (Emit), for whom he felt no social-media/Selfie culture sentimentalism given his sort of pedestrian-liberty feeling having been distanced from him for years now. Well, he was about to find an unanticipated Selfie-comment for Amlan's special/secret knack...for billiards/pool.

AMLAN SATAN: "What joy to return to my college-hobby (secret) for a coastline ocean city of great (incomplete) distances to Selfie-happiness, should I 'snatch' that coveted silver-shiny trophy from every competitor, any Creeper, Hoodwink, Baron, Queen, or otherwise, for a 'cinema' IQ (in deed!)."

AMLAN: You're in this tourney, and you're my Semi-Final challenger, Emit?
EMIT: I'm older, drunker, and secretly a billiards-man when not driving in America.

AMLAN: A traveling-salesman, Emit?

EMIT: How've you been, sonny-gem...and you prepared to hoodwink King Hamlet?

AMLAN: Surely, for my 'gift' is one of a street-acquisition(s), but my own dad, ok.

EMIT: I play with the Devil, long-lost son Amlan Satan.

AMLAN: I play with faeries and Spring-heeled Jack (myself); let's play (memory).

EMIT: Damn, I had you, Amlan Satan.

AMLAN: You didn't count on that last-round of angle-shooting after your miss, eh?

EMIT: You got lucky.

AMLAN: Perhaps in more ways than one; maybe I needed this (more).

EMIT: I'm your (estranged) daddy.

AMLAN: Be well, then; I'll win this damn tourney (for us).

EMIT: For you (post a Facebook-like).

AMLAN: Thanx (farewell...and good/close play, Emit).

EMIT: Good.

Amlan Satan won the damn tournament in that city-by-the-sea, waged against his estranged (once-alcoholic) 'dear' father (Emit) in that Semi-Final 'engagement' which made for some pretty nifty street-chess stalemate 'lore' in the Homeland, before storming past his Finals-competitor (Ed Nash) and seizing that silver-shiny tourney to laurel his secret gift at that street-sneaky sport of elegance/talent, and he learned to be humble about it, for Emit was (really) great (too).

AMLAN SATAN: "I've purchased a wonder-rich stained-glass lamp for a lovely 'princess' whom I (now) seek to heal my scar-heart and hold that pool-trophy with that special 'field goal giddiness' lighter...I need the light of true love (now!)."

ESMERELDA: Am I dating Quasimodo, Satan?
AMLAN: You sensed my wandering-prince sense of (American) idleness/blues?

ESMERELDA: Ashamed of your silver-shiny trophy (I know it).

AMLAN: You've already mesmerized me, Amlan...but don't look at me!

ESMERELDA: Perchance this is inception of a Romanticism-edge for sportsmanship.

AMLAN: You'll replace my evil father, Ezzy.

ESMERELDA: Cool (good bureaucracy readings).

AMLAN: For all (maybe)...I'm adapting this faerie-tale into some anime-arena.

ESMERELDA: Did I tell you my daddy is a wealthy football-team executive (Ohio)?

AMLAN: Wow...sounds like a 'cool' Facebook-like (for all).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)