…and with that I reached down and picked up the rock. It was time, he had it coming to him. He was an arse and, quite frankly, I was fairly certain that just once, just once I should do something that would be remembered long after I was gone. It meant nothing and it meant everything.
I pulled my arm back, arching myself like some kind of medieval war machine as I hurled the rock as hard as I could, aiming straight at his stupid, puffy, lying face.
The rock span; in my mind’s eye a sickening slow motion special effect until it smacked him square between the eyes. I swear I heard a crunchy “thwack” as it made contact.
There was a pregnant moment of unbelieving silence from the gathered crowd, his “public”; even the secret-servicemen just looked as if they had been frozen by some kind of Godly remote control pause button.
Then all hell broke loose. Arms and fluorescent jackets blurred around me as I was crashed to the floor and squashed into submission beneath an impromptu playground bundle of unthinking duty-bound gut instinct official muscle. I just had time to see him teeter and then fall backwards, stiff limbed like some great felled tree with a glorious mixed look of shock, recognition and total incredulity frozen into his features.
Spark out. With a reddening and quite distinctive rock imprint between his eyebrows.
The last thing the cameras picked up was the huge toothy smirk I was pulling. Then I blacked out with the metal taste of blood between my teeth.