“Lynchy, head’s up!” Paul pucked the sliotar in my direction, and I raised my hand up to catch the ball mid-air, only to miss my target entirely when Molloy grabbed me in a precarious fucking spot. “That’s my ball, Joey Lynch,” she warned, squeezing my nuts just enough to let me know that she was capable of doing damage. “And so are these.” “Jesus,” I strangled out, throwing my hands up in surrender, as my blonde-haired nemesis secured the ball for herself, and whizzed past me, cackling evilly.
