I knock my knee into Preston’s. “What did you say to that player?” “If he didn’t stay off my goalie, I would make tea out of the teeth I was going to knock out of his face.” His tone is so deadpan I turn to look at him. All I can do is blink for a second while my brain processes what he just said. “What the actual fuck, man?” I don’t know whether to be horrified by that mental image or impressed. He shrugs and continues to watch the game. “I don’t even drink tea.”
lmaoo
