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Rob's metal bleacher for the Yankee
game was on the top row, with the Jumbotron directly over his head. He
could only see the score through the thin readouts between mezzanine
decks, but that was no matter since Rob had his radio. It gave the
score every couple of minutes along with the play by play. He listened
for two innings, but then the batteries died. Perfect. Wait, he was
sitting under eight zillion volts. Rob had come straight from work, and
still had some electrician's tools in his belt. An electrical cable for
the Jumbotron ran along the bleacher wall at his heels. Rob
nonchalantly felt with his hands while facing forward. He made a small
incision in the plastic and rubber insulation, and stuck a pair of
insulated wires in. Rob threaded the other ends of the wires to his
radio, and it screamed back to life. Rob enjoyed two more innings like
this, afraid to move and jerk a wire out. He stayed still when some
overweight guy tried to inch past with $30 in food, which caused the
guy to lose his balance. He spilled a huge cup of soda on Rob's
bleacher, which splashed down on the insulation cut. The entire metal
bleacher seared with electricity, snapping Rob's muscles so he was
stiff as an ironing board. The soda washed down to the second row of
bleachers, electrocuting everyone on them too. This caused more spilled
drinks, and the electricity spread across the entire bleachers. Rob
smelled his own charring flesh as he heard the announcers remark on
some commotion in the cheap seats, like the wave, but in reverse. |
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