A little over a dozen rowdy (and thoroughly inebriated) bar patrons cheered at a couple of people seated at a small table in the middle of the whole bar. Of the two people seated opposite each other, the first was a big hunk of a man with an imposing barrel chest, and whose biceps were larger than his opponent’s head.
The other was Eva. Though she had a bit of a sly grin, she yawned a bit and taunted her opponent
“Is that all you’ve got, big guy?” she asked. “I’m starting to get real sleepy over here.”
Both their hands were locked, and their elbows were solidly on the table in front of them. And on each side of the table were small piles of coins and paper currency. The rules of their arm wrestling match was simply whoever made their opponent’s knuckles touch their own bets won the whole pot.