He certainly doesn't mind long odds, the increased possibility of miscalculation as he sets the cue ball zooming across the table, bouncing off the soft green felt walls several times before clacking against one of her stripes, knocking it into one of his solids, bringing it close to the edge of one of the pockets without sinking it. It'll be difficult to put any other balls in that particular pocket without taking that one with it.

Jim listens to her, some of the ideas she's expressing sounding almost uncomfortably familiar. "Was there ever any justice for what happened to your family?"