Now that he could enjoy himself, relax and get into the spirit of the game, he had to admit, to himself if not to her, that he deserved that. He'd played dirty pool, and it was no longer about winning so much as trying not to be killed by repeatedly. And failing miserably at it, but even that wasn't so bad. She was good. He was impressed. Maybe even a bit admiring.

... He could have done without the teabagging. That was a bit excessive. Still, he was having more fun than he could remember having in quite some time, so that by the time she'd killed him off once and for all, he was - laughing.