As Troy’s fist smashes into your face, crushing your sunglasses against your skin, you begin to reconsider the sensibleness of calling Troy a limp-dick fuck-boy.
“What the fuck you got to say now, motherfucker?” Troy asks, smilingly politely, eyes enthusiastic. He is obviously quite interested in your feedback.
You weigh your options carefully, the sting of Troy’s knuckles still fresh in your mind (and your nose) and settle on a new approach. “I think you should suck my dick, Troy.”
You hear a soft crunch as what was left of your sunglasses disintegrates on your face under the force of Troy’s fist. Somehow, you feel Troy hasn’t been convinced of your position. Time to double down.
“I think you’ll like it,” you explain.
You’re pretty sure there wasn’t a fist in your gut a few seconds ago. Weird. Oh, hey Troy’s fist. You decide to go for broke. If a young man doesn’t go for something because it’s popular, he’s not going to go for it at all.
“Your mom liked it a lot!” you exclaim.
You see a flash of Troy’s balled-up hand before the world goes black. You wake up some time later, alone. You’re not sure if Troy sucked your dick or not. You’ll have to remember to ask him next time you see him.