He nodded, twisted the rod in his hands importantly. He had one job, just one. John could feel his heart racing in his throat. Break the rod: that was all he needed to do.
He took a deep breath, held the rod high over his head and brought it down to smash against the groun
"Geroni--"
The rod bounced off the ground, connected with John in the eye with a smack, bounced a couple times on the ground before going over the edge in an impressive twirl.
"--mo..."
John was clutching his eye, which was on his way to turning a lovely shade of black. More importantly, however, was the rod falling into the crowd below.