He huffs in something like mock disdain, arms crossing over his chest. Adopting a haughty attitude, he narrows his eyes to slivers and looks anywhere but at the other while speaking an octave higher than normal;

“This is beginner’s luck. You got lucky. I’m winning next time for sure–” He cuts himself off abruptly, flipping over his bingo board and waving his free hand as if to rid the air of his previous words.

“Don’t get too cocky, okay? I’m still the bingo king. I have five wins in a row under my belt.”