My guess is wrong. Maxwell twists my arm and fixes me in a headlock. Clever. He knows that one wrong move from me and my head will be ripped clean off. I have to act fast. Quick as a flash, I elbow him in the nuts, nodding as I hear the satisfying thud of bone on gland. I’ve just turned his testicles into a couple of bollock pancakes. And it feels good. ‘Would you like lemon juice with them, sir?’ I roar, inside my head.
