Even after Kevin publicly announced that everyone should evacuate with immediate effect, he was seen as a usual Pot-blower and wasn’t taken serious.
He pleaded again but he was jeered and got objects thrown at him.
He got annoyed. He was bittered that those lives he wanted to save aren’t seeing the handwriting on the wall. Maybe the writing was Arabic to the Brits.
The planted IED will go off in 30. The basketball game still have more than 40-50 minutes to entertain the spectators. More than 10,000 lives are dangling by the cliff’s edge. About to meet their demise. What a hell-sponsored finale. Tears of sorrows instead of joy. It won’t be triumphal club’s theme song echoing from the General Speaker but wailing. Agonizers spitting curses on dollar bill they exchanged to the ticket that brought them to their early grave.
Kevin swallowed the hard knock and gulp it down with the hope of being spoken well of, by posterity.
Boy rushed to the security stand. Get some vest and stock the pocket with damaged adapters. Covered his head to gain this fierce look of a stenched Jihadist.
Sweaty Kevin ran off to the basketball court, screaming “Allahu Akbar”.
On his hands were the adapters with dissecting wires and a red beeping light.
The field turned a dead zone in the next 20 minutes, leaving handcuffed Kevin and some security officials dragging him to a basement.
He couldn’t speak for himself. His mouth was sealed.
Boom! Came an earthshaking blast and the left corner of the stadium went ashy and smoky.