"I wanted to kill you."
"Eight ball, side pocket -- Huh?" Lennie looked up from the pool table, momentarily distracted.
"The first time we met. Remember?" Munch looked over his glasses, raising his eyebrows. "You slept with my wife, took all my money, and left me with the worst hangover I'd had since the seventies. I wanted you dead."
"Ex-wife. And anyway, you just said that to ruin my shot. You always have been a sore loser." Lennie expertly sank the shot. "That's, what, three in a row? Sure you don't want to quit before I claim your entire pension?"
"Shut up and rack 'em." Munch broke into a rare grin.