I have two walls but no roof. Or where a perfect game is, Just bowl with no goof. What am I?

Through mystic chants of arcane lore, it spins to carve, to cut, to bore. A sorcerer's tool to pierce the night, revealing secrets with a twisting bite.

I have a belly but no mouth, I can be rolled but never walk. I often hold what others drink, made of wood - what do you think?

Lumbering giant? Ancestral image? Data structure. Sappy sort.

The local gang purchased the Italian diner and turned it into a tennis club, causing one of these.