Sole Mates: Losing Bet

Two cocky chav lads, a pool table, and one filthy bet. The banter's flying, the tension's building — four eyes locked, cue sticks in hand — but neither of them is playing for cash. The winner takes control. The loser pays the price on his knees. When that final ball drops, the deal's sealed. The winner kicks back, smirking, while the loser gets put in his place — face-first into a pair of sweat-soaked, cheesy chav socks that've been marinating all night. The stink hits him like a wall. And he fucking loves it. A dirty little bet between two competitive scallies — and neither of them is walking away clean.