Spangler: I just got a call from the sheriff that a cocksure, smart-mouthed youth looking very much like yourself has been hustling pool at the local bars.
Francis: Really, sir?
Spangler: You are in serious trouble, cadet.
Francis: I can explain-
Spangler: Why have you been holding back when we've played pool?
Francis: What?
Spangler: I want to know why you've been letting me win.
Francis: Sir, if I played for real I'd just end up humiliating you in front of the school, and and you'd, you know, torture us all for it. Really, nothing good could come from it, and and besides, winning seems to make you so happy.
Spangler: I am not a child. Do you really think me so petty that I would throw a tantrum over something so small as a game of pool?!
Francis: My mistake, sir.
Spangler: We are going to play again. And you are going to give me your best game, cadet. And to make sure of that, if you don't win... Picture yourself, 0400, awakened from sweet dreams of Mommy, sent outside into the bitter cold to raise our school colors and stand at attention for three hours until reveille is called. Now, picture that for 230 consecutive days.
Francis: But what if I try my best and I still lose?
Spangler: Then you shall be miserable indeed. Dismissed.