What Happens When You Mix Green With Chemicals?

I hastily pulled out my cell phone, and dialed 911.
"Aw, sweetie, we really don't have to do that, now do we?" Trent asked as I put the phone to my ear, eagerly waiting for someone to answer.
"Don't call me that." I hissed, and a second later someone picked up.
"Hello, 911, what's your emergency?" She asked.
"There's a man with a knife who's wanted for attempted murder at Fox Theater, Green Day's dressing room. Please hurry; he's going to hurt me and my boyfriend." I rushed out, and as soon as I stopped talking, Trent crossed the room with seven large steps, fury written agross his face. Gerard stepped in front of me, grabbing Trent's wrist, the one holding the blade, and socked him with his other hand.
"Ok ma'am, the police will be there shortly, along with an ambulance in case." She told me.
"Thank you." I replied, and we hung up. Trent's jaw was already starting to swell and bruise, but I knew from experiance it was just a minor threat in his mind. Trent had already ripped away from Gerard's grip, and took a shot at slitting his stomach open, but Gerard leapt back, out of reach.
Trent made the mistake of turning his back to me, and I quickly made the desicion to whether jump on his back and try to choke him, or run for the mini fridge and grab a beer bottle that would undoubtedly be in there to use as a weapon.
I dove for the fridge.
Hands shaking slightly, I flung open the fridge and grabbed a wine bottle from it. I turned frantically around, locating Trent, his back still to me, and Gerard in front of him, his face contorted in pain slightly. My gaze traveled down to Gerard's stomach; and a long, deep, yet surprisingly thin slash was there, bleeding profusely.
I didn't hesitate to swiftly run to Trent and slam the glass bottle on his head. He cried out in pain, his head already gushing blood. I discarded the bottle to the side as Gerard kicked Trent's stomach, then knee his face in. He fell to the ground as the police bolted in.
Four police men entered the room, guns drawn. I remember vaguely them telling us to get down on the floor; but I could only think of Gerard.
My sweet, protective Gerard. My angel sent from above; bleeding from the demon sent from below. I walked over to him, as he collapsed to the floor, holding his stomach in agony. I applied my own hands to help put more pressure on his wound.
"Hey, it's gonna be alright." He told me bravely, smiling. By this time the police already had Trent taken away on a stretcher due to his head. My bad I thought.
"I'm so sorry." I said quietly, willing tears to stay back. It didn't work; they came spilling out.
"It's not your fault, love. I'm going to be fine. Everything will be the way it should be." Gerard said. Another stretcher enters the room and Geard is hoisted up on it. He winces but holds that same smile on his face as he reaches for my hand. I close my hand around his and they lead us out the the ambulance waiting for us. Trent was taken in a different one to the nearest hospital. I was allowed to stay in the ambulance with Gerard, until we got to the hospital and they had to stitch him up.
While waiting for them to be done fixing my Gerard, I called the guys and explained why the police was there and what happend. They said they would be down there as fast as they could.