The old man over there should probably be considered as having given up, at least that's what the fat guy feels, because the seven scarecrows surrounding him have started to wither. The originally stiff straw is now showing a grayish-white hue—it's not burning, yet it looks like it's heading toward the same fate as being burned. Unless the old man is stubborn enough to risk everything in a desperate battle, the fat guy still feels that the geezer is too scared of dying and likely won't dare to go all in.
But what really pisses the fat guy off is the dark cloud lingering above his head—it circles around deliberately teasing him, neither coming down nor entering the doll he'd prepared in advance.
We agreed to act cool together, but you went behind my back and secretly oiled your hair!
