Chapter Eighteen
Nefertiti had stared at the wide screens on the walls as they repeatedly flashed the fall of the panda onto Johnston. The whole gamut of emotions that had been churning in her stomach now began to churn into one big ball of anger. Everyone has seen it, she thought, the whole bleeding world has just seen the bugle’s hat; my bugle’s hat, not only is my Flower of Scotland public property, but the bugle’s hat is on film forever. She quickly scanned the hall and her eyes stopped at the ring. Sitting in the corner was big Sal’s whip. Retribution, she thought, sweet retribution.
‘Of all my years in wrestling,’ muttered Frank ‘I can’t believe what we just saw.’
Johnston, laying flat on his back with a dazed ‘What the hell is going on’ look, couldn’t either. He turned to Steven
