‘You, Lena Harris, are a fucking bad bitch. For real you are. But listen, hey …’ She leant forward, forehead touching Lena’s. ‘Next time, get him starkers and excited and all that, right, and then kick him hard as you can in the dick. While he’s down, whining and all that, you film him. Spread the vid of him being a little bitch all over the internet, see how he likes it.’

Lena opened another beer, drank deeply. If she could kiss Kylie all over her face without it being weird, she would.

‘Won’t be a next time,’ she said. ‘I’m all business from now on. Gonna make him pay for a scrubbing service and—’

‘A what now?’

Lena explained about the internet removal company, told her how much it cost.

‘Wait wait wait wait wait!’ Hands in the air, voice so loud the whole street had to be hearing it. ‘You’re telling me you’re going to pay some bloke in Parra more money than I make in a frickin’ year to look for your hoo-ha on the internet?’

‘Not just look for my hoo-ha, mate. Delete it.’

Kylie shook her head, pulled herself to a standing position using both hands on the lounge. Clomped three or so steps to the bedroom door, pushed it open. Lena would’ve stopped her but she was helpless with laughter and booze.

‘Ty, babe, Ty, wake up a sec. Come out here a minute. It’s important, come on, yeah, just for a second.’

‘Kylie, no. What are you doing?’

Kylie had the best look on her face. Kid on Christmas morning. She poured them each another shot. They downed them as Ty stumbled out, wearing a pair of bottle-green footy shorts and nothing else. His hair was halfway to the roof. Lena and Kylie couldn’t stop laughing. It was beginning to hurt.

‘How pissed are youse?’ he said, dropping onto the lounge next to Kylie. ‘What ya got there? Fucking sambucca? Bloody hell.’

‘Listen, listen.’ Kylie struggled to get herself under control. Ty shook his head, but warmly, Lena could tell. Like how Dad used to shake his head at Mum when she drank too much Lambrusco and got all clumsy and loud.

‘So, listen. Lena’s got a job offer for ya.’

‘Shut up, ya bitch!’

‘Nah, Leen, he’ll do it heaps cheaper for you. Serious, Ty, listen.’

Lena leapt on Kylie, clamped a hand over her mouth. It was better than kissing her, jumping on her full-bodied, wrestling and laughing like they were eight years old.

‘Youse are fuuucked.’ His tone said, Youse are glorious.

Somehow they calmed down. Kylie told Ty, brief and crude, what had happened.

‘Right. You want me to fuck him up? He big? I can get some fellas together.’

‘I thought maybe Wayno,’ Kylie said.

‘Yeah, yeah. Could do it, could do it. Where’s this grub live?’