Death Arm
Now that there were some stakes on the outcome of the arm wrestling match, it became many times more interesting to watch. Perhaps it was the booze that had already settled into their stomachs, but both of the men found themselves beginning to cheer for their chosen competitor.
"C'mon!"
"Get him!"
It was almost a comical stalemate; both of the men that clasped hands hardly budged one way or the other, even when completely straining themselves. This prolonged battle led more booze to be drunk and the two to cheer more from their seats, along with the crowd of spectators.
"Go! Go! Go!"
"Finish him! You're close!"
"Keep fighting!"
–THUD.
"Raaaaah!"
Finally, one of the competing arms was slammed against the table: the burly arm belonging to the bald, tall competitor, leaving the bearded, stocky man victorious.
"What–?! Arghh…" Emilio groaned in disappointment.
"Ha-ha," Sirius laughed with his small victory, scooping up the wagered coins with a smile, "My win."