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It does not matter how hot a woman is , if I see a person with a paddle then I immediately have flashbacks to my childhood.
That is not because I was physically beat with a paddle, but because my grandma beat me at ping pong while showing no mercy. I was just a child at the time, barely able to coordinate feeding myself, and yet my grandma would intentionally direct spikes toward my face. She said it was for my own good, that it would make me better, but all it has done is given me cold sweats anytime I see a ping pong table.
Even now, a couple decades later, I still cannot get over those humiliating defeats. Looking at the paddle in Elisabetta’s hand makes me cringe. With a paddle that size my grandma would be unstoppable. Not a single ball would get past her. And my grandma looked like a doughy ball with wig on. If she had had the core strength of Elisabetta then she would probably be a certified killer. I can only thank whatever gods may be that Grandma was brought up in a time when physical fitness was reserved only for the gays.