He held me tight in a headlock and I struggled restlessly to escape.
"Let me go Dom! I'm serious, this is not funny!"
He laughed anyway and smiled evilly like the jerk he was.
"Oh, but little, naive Finnegan, this is all too funny! It's hilarious in fact!"
"It may be funny to you now, but we'll see who's laughing in the end!" I threatened and looked up shoot him a death-glare.
"Oh, look who's so big and bad! Is that a threat or promise, Finnegan?" he taunted.
"Okay, first, my name is not Finnegan! How many times to I have to tell you bigheaded, conceited jerk that my name is not Finnegan? I mean, seriously! I'm not even Irish!"
"You're not?"
"No!" I snapped back, confused he would even care or whatever his screwed up mind was thinking, and still furious because he wouldn't let go. I let my curiosity get the best of me and blurted out, "Why would you, of all people, you, even care if I'm Irish?"
"I don't…just surprised a bit, I guess." He mumbled, distracted and looking at the floor, while still gripping my neck…rather tightly, if I might add. I took advantage of his distracted moment by twisting rapidly out of his hold, then throwing him down on the ground, climbing on top of him to hold him down, and pinning his arms behind his back.
He grumbled and muttered curse after curse under his breath as he lay there, hopeless and helpless. It was quite a nice sight for me, considering how many times he'd been messing with me like this lately. I smirked at him and said,
"Let this be a lesson to you," Then I leaned in really close to his ear and whispered in a strained, angry voice, "Don't underestimate me, Howard."