It wouldn’t take much, just a few pounds of cemtex, a fuse, a timer. Easy really. Then he’d be hailed as a hero, the new masters would revere him, mint coins with his image on them, sing songs about him. He’d change history.
Just one explosion, the world would change.
Guy looked into the flames at the firework display, he’d had the most striking sense of deja vu.
‘Guy darling, are you going to light that rocket?’. Mrs Fawkes called from amongst an expectant throng of children.
He lit the touch paper and felt a shiver run through him. Whoosh!