As he raised his hands, Olive couldn’t contain herself any longer. She kicked the Slow King’s feet out under him. He landed heavily on the concrete deck.
“No rules,” she shouted as three guards, tasers at the ready rushed towards her.
But the Slow King was already on his feet and waved them back. He stepped a few meters away from her and waved to the cameras, “You see what I mean. This is real. You’ve all seen the news today. Our substitute candidate Olive, all of twenty-four years of age and hot and ready as they come, a señorita from the bull fighting capital of the world, the little Spanish town of Ronda, is a Green Panther!”
The crowd roared. The Slow King waved and waited till the applause had died down. “Olive is teasing me because I told her earlier in the dressing room that she
