"It's Moondog", hissed Jings at Sheena. "What should I say", she asked.
"Tell him my phone's run out of battery, and that everything is fine. I don't want him to miss his game or worry about this", said Sheena. "EXCUSE ME, you nearly died, and you are worried about not distracting his bloody soccer game? Are you MAD?", Jings sputtered. "Pass me the phone", Sheena said.
Fortunately, Jings was not a believer in voice mail, and the phone continued its annoying drone, which was Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On. Sheena grabbed the phone from her and cleared her throat before answering, "Hallo Darling. Yeah, everything is fine. My phone's dead. (in her mind, she thought, so was Mina, a moment ago) Jock? Nah, he's probably hungry or needs to take a crap. What? Yeah, I know but he's wrong this time. We're having a gala time. Jings is about to do a flaming lamborghini", she said as she saw some embers of burning coasters and other unidentifiable objects. "Okay darling, Mwah mwah, oh, who's winning? Ah, good, those hot Turks, yummy...okay, see you in a bit".
"What is the matter with you", Jings exclaimed again in utter disbelief. "This is a mini 911 situation and you let the guy think I'm having a flaming bloody Lamborghini?". Sheena replied, "What do you expect him to do? No point all of us suffering. Hey, where did Pengyi disappear to?" she tried to distract Jings.
The wailing sirens interrupted their slight argument, and the cops stormed in without having to break down any doors. "Is anyone hurt?" yelled out one cop. The pianist continued playing the Requiem as if in denial. Goldtooth was remarkably composed for someone who just had her premises blown up. She directed the cops at the direction she thought was the source of the blast and continued talking to them.