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Oh no. No, no, no. Deuce got that awful toy. Who bought him that god-awful toy.
"Droog, pleeeeeease?" Deuce begged. "Just one round?" You sighed and shook your head.
From elsewhere in the room, Slick cackled. That caught your attention. "You'd lose anyway," he remarked.
You huffed and folded your newspaper, returning it to card form. "I would certainly outdo you, Slick."
He snarled and took the toy from Deuce. "You an' me then, Droog," he growled. You watched as he fiddled with it until managing to start the game.
Slick's movements were surprisingly fluent. You would almost say they were something akin to graceful. Upon your turn, you moved as skillfully as you expected. You were bound to win.
He went on until he was nearly screeching. He did screech upon making a wrong move , and you laughed.
You handed the toy to Deuce and produced your newspaper with a scoff. "I told you so."
You were the overlord of Bop-It.