One red Solo cup, anchored inside a ceramic mug, stands across the spacious room. The Hulett brothers — standing behind a large, gray couch — take turns flinging cups into the air, hoping to sink one into the target.
Off-target shots litter the carpeted floor. Winding up and flicking his wrist, David takes what feels like his millionth attempt in four hours. Plop. Bullseye.
“That shot started it all,” David said...
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