Society of Heroes with Indeterminate Talent by Sebastian H. Alive Page B

asked without looking around.
    “Well we couldn’t help but notice from afar that you intend to graffiti that commemorative statue.”
    “You two f*****g butt-pirates have been staring at my ass, haven’t you bunch of fudge packers?”
    “Can I just say that thing you’ve got going on with your jeans hanging around your ankles was originally a prison thing to signify that you were another man’s bitch and sagged that way to ensure easier access for their master to pull their pants down.”
    “You calling me a queer?” screeched the youth spinning around.
    “I’m calling you nothing of the sort young man, all I’m saying is that we were watching you about to deface and vandalize that statue of Admiral Horatio Nelson.”
    “Who?” asked the youth squinting up at the statue.
    “Admiral Horatio Nelson, the Viscount and Baron of the Nile, and Duke of Bronte.”
    “Who the f**k?” asked the youth again, still squinting up at the statue.
    “He was a great man, a charismatic leader who died at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.  Those four bronze panels which you’re intending to vandalize symbolize Nelson's victories at the Battles of Cape St Vincent, Nile, Copenhagen and Trafalgar.”
    “So f*****g what?” spat the youth.  “I’m just gonna’ tag him.”
    “And what is your tag name?” asked
    “Death Blood Bastard.” answered the youth proudly.
    “Slightly offensive, a touch anti-social and a little disturbing don’t you think?”
    “It’s my artist's name.”
    “A very nice name it is too.  Now I know a graffiti writer feels the need to get his or her personalized signature out there but what you’re planning to do on this landmark is a criminal offence.  You could face a fine or imprisonment if convicted in court.”
    “Do I look f*****g bothered?”
    “Rather surprisingly, no.  Did you know that tagging is considered by many to be a "gateway crime," and can lead to more serious or dangerous crimes such as drug and alcohol use?”
    “I already do drugs and alcohol.”
    “I am truly surprised by that revelation.” remarked Agent One, planting his hands on his hips and glaring at the youth with mock surprise.  “But still, we can’t allow you to graffiti this monument.”
    “Are you going to stop me like?”
    “No, but he is.” said Agent One pointing at Birdman who was busy straightening his hair with a hand-mirror.
    “Your boyfriend?”
    “Geoffrey, stop adjusting your hair.” hissed Agent One through gritted teeth.
    Birdman gave it one final pat then wrinkled his thin handlebar moustache and strode forward.
    “You’re not going to bum me are you, because I’ve got a knife.” snarled the youth.
    “Have you heard of Genesis 19:24 from the Bible?” asked Birdman crossing his arms.
    “Just what the f**k are you wearing?  Are you a f*****g chicken or something?”
    “Pigeon actually,” replied Birdman smartly.  “So, have you heard of Genesis 19:24 from the Bible?”
    “F**k no.”
    “It reads something like this.  The Lord rained down fire and burning Sulphur from the sky upon the wicked.  So hand over the spray canister otherwise I will smote you from the heavens with a cloud of feathered vengeance.”
    “What the f**k are you talking about?  In fact, forget this s**t.” spat the youth turning back around and aiming the spray can at the base of the monument.
    “Don’t do it.  Don’t you dare press that nozzle!” cried Birdman.
    Grinning the youth pressed it and sent a jet of red paint across the bronze plate and scrawled his tag.
    “You have left me no choice,” boomed the voice of Birdman raising his arms to the sky.  “Come to me my feathered brethren, here my call.”
    “Excuse me,” said Agent One interrupting.  “Can I have a word?”
    “Of course.” boomed Birdman with his arms still aloft.
    “You can stop shouting, Geoffrey.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Is summoning your flock safe?”
    “It’s incredibly accurate.”
    “I asked if it was