Chapter 6 – Meet McFinleyyy

 

Chapter 6 – Meet McFinleyyy

The limo pulled up outside McFinleyyy’s Irish Bar, tucked between towering Manhattan glass buildings. A glowing green neon shamrock flickered above the door. Inside, the scent of Guinness and fried food wrapped around them like an old friend.

Behind the bar stood McFinleyyy himself, a broad-shouldered man with a thick black beard flecked with grey, hair tied back in a neat bun, and eyes that sparkled with mischief. He wore a black t-shirt stretched over his chest, displaying tattoos of Celtic knots winding down his arms.

“Look who’s here!” McFinleyyy roared, spreading his arms wide. “The Govna and Dannyboy. Hold all da chipsiieee!!!!”

Dannyboy burst out laughing. “I missed that catchphrase, Finleyyy.”

Oh Dannyboy, the pipes are calling you...

The Govna chuckled, lighting a cigar as he settled into his favourite leather stool. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… pour me the black stuff, lad.”

McFinleyyy slid them two fresh pints with perfect creamy heads. The bar bustled with American and Irish voices blending in cheer. Dannyboy glanced at the door as it swung open again. In walked Sgt. Salty, rugged as ever, wearing his tight navy polo and dark jeans, a cheeky grin plastered across his sun-kissed face.

“Did ya miss me?” Salty called out, raising his arms wide.

Dannyboy jumped up to hug him, nearly knocking over their pints. “You made it!”

The Govna smirked. “America is about to get very interesting.”

Salty clapped The Govna’s back. “You know it, old man. Let’s show them how we do it.”

McFinleyyy banged his fist on the bar. “First round’s on me. Hold all da chipsiieee!!!!”

The laughter, pints, and catchphrases filled the bar, sealing their reunion under the glowing shamrock with promises of chaos, friendship, and unforgettable nights ahead.