Hannibal sat at the bar, nursing his drink, puffing slowly on his cigar. His mind was far away, back at the warehouse where the bad guys were now unhappily trussed up.

Face sat next to him, frowning. He, too, had a drink, but he'd outdistanced Hannibal three to one so far.

BA stood at the back of the room, pool cue in hand. Occasionally he'd set up a shot, but then just sigh, straighten, and stare at the table.

Murdock sat near BA. Of the three, he was the only one who looked happy. Every now and then he would shake his head and grin.

BA finally put the cue down and spoke to the room at large.

"It ain't right, man."

Face sighed. "I just don't get it."

Hannibal frowned. "Well, it was bound to happen sometime."

Murdock just laughed. "Oh, c'mon, guys! Be happy Hannibal's plan actually worked!"