Sam just snorts at that, focuses on his shot. Of course it's rigged and the fishbowls are harder to get a ping-pong ball into than it appears, but he's damn well going to do it anyway. The next one rolls around the rim for a moment before falling in obligingly; the two after that are clean shots into the bowl. He turns his head and grins at Michael.

"What's that you were saying?"

And of course the sunglasses he picks are the same shade of pink as the boa. Gotta color-coordinate, man.