"Oh please," roared the black man, slapping his thigh and struggling to breathe. "Everything's going all wavy and out of focus. If I black out you can have my money, it's in my left pocket."
The robber looked around unsure what to do as his victim beat the wall with his huge fist and bellowed out hysterically.
"Wait, wait, wait let me take a picture, you gotta' let me." wheezed the black man, fishing into his pocket and pulling out his phone.
He bent over and pulled his arm up behind his back and put a look of mock fear on his face.
"C'mon son, grab my arm and hold the knife under my throat while I take the picture."
The robber thought for a moment then shrugged his shoulders and took hold of the victim's arm while resting the edge of the knife against his throat.
"Take the picture quick because you're starting to laugh." shouted the robber angrily.
"It really…it really…it really is a butter knife." cried the black man creasing up again. "Man, get a control of yourself Titus. Wait, wait, wait hold on. Give me a second."
After a few moments of trying to gain his composure Titus took the picture on his phone blinking rapidly at the flash.
"Did you get it?" asked the robber releasing his arm.
"I think so, let me check." said Titus thumbing through his images before bursting out into laughter once again and wiping away his tears. "Yeah, yeah I got it. Man, I never laughed so hard my entire life."
"So, are you going to give me your money then?"
"Just hold on for one second, just going to make a real quick call." he replied putting the phone to his ear.
The robber sighed loudly and his shoulders sank as the phone dialed out for a few seconds before connecting.
"Hey, hey Tyrone, it's me Titus. Are the boys there? Ya'll got hear dis'. Some white punk is trying to armed rob me at the cash point with a butter knife. You know the one just down the main road, down that small side street. I know, I'm serious this bitch is right in front of me right now, I swear."
The sound of laughing could be heard coming from the phone's grille.
"I'll send you the pic in a mo', I swear I will. Okay, bye."
Titus smiled at the phone then put it back into his pocket.
"That's some funny shit you're tryin' to pull, son."
"I want your phone too!" said the robber pointing at the bulge in his jeans.
"Wait, you're actually serious?" asked Titus frowning.
"Yes, I'm really going to cut you up."
"Pass me the knife." said Titus offering out his hand and waggling his fingers. "C'mon son, let's have a better look at it."
"But-but I'll be without my weapon," stammered the robber. "You could use it against me."
"Son, I can make my thumb and forefinger meet around your bicep, so just pass me the weapon."
Sulkily the robber handed over the knife and Titus held it up to the moon squinting at it before running his fingers along the serrated edge and shaking his head.
"It just won't do. See if I was looking to rob someone I would use something like this." said Titus reaching deep into his trousers and pulling out a folding pocket knife. "This is known as a balisong, also known as a fan knife, Batangas knife, or more commonly referred to as a butterfly knife. It has a 4.5 inch black oxide blade and a double folding clasp lock. A very offensive weapon and one I would use if I was planning to attack someone at knifepoint in the dark."
The robber swallowed hard and looked at the wickedly sharp blade as Titus flicked it open with a twist of his wrist.
"You went about the whole thing wrong in my opinion son, and now you're in a bad place because you lost the opportunity. A few lessons and I reckon with a little practice you can turn this bad experience into a positive one. First lesson, don’t ever fool yourself into thinking you can take someone down twice your size. It just aint gonna' happen. Second lesson, don’t ever hesitate. A quick punch in the eye shows you mean business, or even go a little crazy. Get the person all scared so they don’t have time to think what to do and third lesson, never give your victim the upper-hand because then it's game over. So I ask you son, now we've had a little chat, I can categorically confirm to you that I don’t intend on handing you any money, so what are you going to do?"
"Cut you?" whimpered the robber, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.
"Wrong answer!" snarled Titus with a glint in his eyes. "Now I'm going to have to teach you an altogether different lesson."
"Lesson four?" whined the robber shrinking away.
"Let’s skip lesson four," said Titus curling his thumb and four fingers into a ham-sized fist. "Let's go straight to lesson five."
Just as he raised his hand to strike a man wearing a bright red bodysuit adorned with a long flowing blue cape and an emblem across his chest with three Z's on it stepped into his path.
"What the?" said Titus lowering his hand as the superhero planted his fists on his hips, sucked in his chest and gazed across at him.
"Who are you? In fact, what are you?"
"I am Captain Lullaby." said the newcomer in a flat, dreary emotionless voice lacking any enthusiasm.
"The tone of your voice is incredibly flat." muttered Titus yawning into his fist.
"It's tediously unvarying." said another voice behind Captain Lullaby.
Titus and the robber craned to look at the second person who was a man dressed in a black suit carrying a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.
"Who the hell are you as well?" asked Titus frowning.
"Don’t mind me? I'm just here to make observations and take notes." replied Agent One.
"We're the heroes." said Captain Lullaby in a mono-tonal drone. "Here to help create a safer neighborhood by reducing crime on the streets of London."
"Heroes?" spat Titus stabbing a finger at him. "That’s like the worst superhero costume of all time, son."
"I totally agree." remarked Agent One ticking something on his clipboard. "A quick word with you Dave…erm I mean Captain Lullaby, if you may?"
"What's the matter?" asked the superhero turning around slowly.
"We really have to work on that entrance." whispered Agent One.
"What was wrong with it?"
"You need to create a certain tension, a little bit of atmosphere. Maybe inject a bit of fear into the bad guy. If you can, you know, show a little excitement on your face."
"I'm excited right now," said Captain Lullaby in a catatonic voice. "Shall I do my entrance again?"
"The moment has gone," replied Agent One stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry, excuse me."
"Shall I continue?"
"Yes, by all means. Now apprehend that villain." ordered Agent One pointing at Titus with his pen. "Incapacitate him with a soothing song."
"Hold on one ignorant second!" screeched Titus with his eyes bulging. "You turn up and naturally assume it's the black guy committing the crime? This is white-on-black, brother. I'm the one getting robbed!"
Captain Lullaby looked at the robber suspiciously who was making slow-lazy circles on the cement with a dirty trainer while trying to maintain an air of innocence.
"Is this man robbing you, sir?"
"He took everything I own." croaked the robber with his voice breaking.
"You lying punk-ass white boy." shouted Titus.
"What do I do, Agent One?" asked Captain Lullaby.
"I'll tell you what I'm gonna' do, I'm gonna' get real mad, real fast in a moment," snarled Titus waving the knife in his hand. "This punk just tried to rob me and now ya'll are trying to blame me. It's because I'm black, right?"
"Sir, I can assure you this is not racially motivated," said Agent One in a calm, authoritative tone. "We will look at this objectively, without prejudice or a stereotypical viewpoint."
Captain Lullaby scratched his chin thoughtfully as he looked at Titus and the robber in turn then shook his head before turning back to the agent.
"What do we do?"
"We need to react fast,"
whispered Agent One leaning in close. "We're losing the situation."
"But who's the robber?"
"In situations such as this we need to forget about ethnicity, there is no color here," began Agent One. "Crime is driven by proximity and opportunity and we need to take into account the society as a whole."
Captain Lullaby nodded his head in understanding as they both stared at the two men in silence. After a few long uncomfortable moments he turned back to the agent with an awkward look on his face.
"So…which one is it?"
"Beats me," answered Agent One. "Let's run with the percentages. The young boy in the hooded top looks like someone down on his luck, an easy target shall we say in a rough neighborhood. Whereas the other guy looks like a hardened criminal, and doesn’t look like a very law-abiding person does he?"
"I bet he's spent time inside prison," commented Captain Lullaby, narrowing his eyes and beating his fist into his palm. "Could be a murderer too?"
"A mass-murderer," added Agent One. "Let's not discount the knife he's holding either."
"He has a knife as well!" gasped Titus pointing at the robber in exasperation.
"It's just a butter spreader," exclaimed the robber innocently. "Who doesn’t carry a butter knife these days, right?"
"He's right, might bump into Crumpet Girl." remarked Agent One. "I think we know our man, don’t we, Captain Lullaby?"
"Sure do." he answered.
"Then take him out."
"What's he gonna' do?" asked Titus fearfully.
"He's going to sing to you." said Agent One.
"He's going to what?"
"Sing to you, directly to you. That's his power; he has a very melodic singing voice."
Captain Lullaby cleared his throat theatrically and took a deep slow breath.
"Remember, breathe from your diaphragm." whispered Agent One.
"I know, I know."
"Are you really going to sing to me?" asked Titus grinning.
"One song and one song only." said Captain Lullaby. "Then it's lights out criminal. Would you prefer the song in English or French?"
"Oh, certainly French please!" mocked Titus.
Suddenly he began singing in a beautiful, lilting voice and Titus's mouth dropped open in amazement as the words floated all around him.
"Frere Jacques, Frere Jacques,"
"Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?"
"Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines"
"Ding dang dong, ding dang dong."
By the time the last word had left Captain Lullaby's mouth Titus was curled up on the floor in a fetal position with a contented smile on his face and snoring loudly.
"My powers really are amazing." gasped Captain Lullaby proudly.
"Well done! Let us call the police to collect him and be on our way." said Agent One. "Don’t forget to leave a calling card."
Stepping forward Captain Lullaby gently placed a rectangular card into the hand of the sleeping man.
It read: This statistic was brought to you by S.H.I.T. Here to keep the streets of London safe.
Just as they were about to turn and leave the small hooded boy coughed lightly into his hand.
"Erm…excuse me, can I just check his pockets because he took my money and phone see?"
"Take what is yours and go your way safely." said Captain Lullaby.
"What about that gold bracelet? Can I take that also?"
"Is that yours? It looks a little big for your wrists."
"Yes, it's definitely mine and…erm…those gold crowns on his front teeth?"
"He took your gold crowns?"
"Sure."
"The bastard!" muttered Captain Lullaby spinning on his heel and walking away followed closely by Agent One.
4.
Piccadilly underground
"We really want to thank you again for giving us this second chance." Gary gushed happily. "We really appreciate you giving us this opportunity, and I'm looking forward to discussing with you our skills and how we can contribute to the program."
"Let's not get carried away, Gary," said Agent Two, scanning the waiting people jostling for position on the platform as the tube train jolted to a halt and opened its doors.
There was a lot of pushing and shoving as people rushed to get on before letting other commuters off at the yellow safety line between the platforms edge and the train. Then suddenly, like a huge funnel, people were sucked inside the underground carriage, packing it like sardines in a can as they watched.
"But I'm so excited you decided to call us back. We both are, aren’t we mum?"
"It's very exciting." said Ethel holding the sack barrow upright. "I told all the girls about it at Bingo, didn’t I Gary?"
"She did." snorted Gary, rolling his eyes. "It was the talk of the room all night. I kept missing numbers off my card because they were asking me questions non-stop."
"You signed the non-disclosure confidentiality agreement, right?" asked Agent Two, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"Yes, that’s right! It was on that piece of headed S.H.I.T paper." said Gary nonplussed.
"Excellent, just thought I'd check."
"Well, we won't let you down, Agent Two."
"Well, you will won't you, Gary."
"Will I?"
"Yes, when you die."
"I'm not going anywhere yet."
"Just out of curiosity Gary, what is the average life expectancy of someone with Motor Neuron Disease?"
"Ooohhh…about 14 months, I think. Is that right, mum?"
"I think that's what the doctor said," replied Ethel looking confused.
"How far into the condition are you?" asked Agent Two.
"Right about…14 months about now."
"So it's not like it's on the horizon or anything, more like its imminent."
"It's like a constant cloud of death over my head." admitted Gary.
"Look on the bright side it won't be constant for much longer."
Gary nodded his head glumly as Ethel wheeled him around so he could watch the tube passengers gathering around the platform for the next train.
Some were staring at the notice boards next to the ticket machines checking on delays and issues with the lines, others were reading morning papers, on their phone, talking to friends and colleagues, while some just stood there forlornly, occasionally staring at their watches with a tired look on their faces. A few were casting glances their way and Gary smiled in return.
"We're attracting some attention," said Gary to his mum. "They've probably never seen real life superheroes before. I would wave, but you know the whole not having the ability to move kind of restricts that."
"They're staring because you look like Zorro strapped to a sack barrow." murmured Agent Two. "Just keep your eyes on the people, look for any suspicious lurkers. Ethel, how's your eyesight?"
"I have a cataract in my left eye," she warbled. "My Ophthalmologist said I need surgery, so I'm on the NHS waiting list."
"Excellent!" said Agent Two. "Well, you be the eyes Gary and Ethel, you be the…the…barrow holder and just be poised to spring into action."
"What are we looking out for?" asked Gary looking mystified.
"We're scoping for pickpockets. It’s the most common crime on the underground transport system and there were 5,300 reported incidents last year. This Piccadilly line leads to some major tourist attractions in London, so it's rife for a nimble-fingered thief."
"Should we be targeting anyone in particular?"
"Good question Inanimate man," replied Agent Two. "Figures released by the British Transport Police show that over half of all pickpockets on the underground are Romanians."
"What does a Romanian look like?"
"Sort of like a cross between a Greek and an Italian, with a shifty look in their eyes." added Agent Two.
"Greek-Italian and shifty, I got it." said Gary scanning the crowded platform.
"But remember, pickpockets are very quick, that is why I chose you and Ethe
l for this mission because of your speed and mobility, so focus."
Nodding, Gary and Ethel peered at the waiting commuters suspiciously while Agent Two made notes on his clipboard and paper.
"Care for a mint, young man?" asked Ethel.
Agent Two paused from his writing and looked up.
"No, thank you."
"Are you sure, it's Peppermint?"
"Ethel, just keep your good eye trained over that way. There's a good girl."
She popped a peppermint in her mouth and sucked on it noisily before transferring her gaze back to the platform.
Agent Two tried his very best to concentrate, to keep his eyes concentrated on anyone looking suspicious out on the platform, but the unbearable loudness of Ethel sucking on her mint kept distracting him and he felt his right eye twitching with every partial vacuum of her lips and tongue as she rolled the mint around her gums.
It finally reached a point where he couldn’t take it anymore, and he cleared his throat a couple of times until Ethel looked back at him with a sliver of mint spittle forking down her chin.
"I've noticed you've been sucking on the same mint now for an extended amount of time." remarked Agent Two through gritted teeth.
Ethel paused then continued sucking loudly on the mint.
"It's just that it's counter-productive to our operation is all." he added.
"I like Peppermints; they're soothing on my gums."
Agent Two was just about to say something when suddenly a commotion erupted at the platform. A young man was yanking at a bag held on the arm of a middle-aged woman and she was resisting, shouting at passerby's to assist her. She yelled at him as he snatched the bag with a snarl on his face and turned swiftly, sprinting in the opposite direction.
"He stole my bag!" cried the woman hysterically. "Get that man!"
"I'll stop him!" yelled Agent Two throwing his clipboard to the ground and giving chase.
Clenching his teeth in grim determination he ran after the thief who was scattering milling commuters in his wake, pushing and shoving them out of his way as he made his escape while throwing nervous looks over his shoulder at his pursuer.
The bag snatcher was a young man, so he could run fast, and they were running out of platform as they headed to the escalators and Agent Two was slowing. Suddenly Ethel sprinted past him with her plaid skirt hitched up to her knees with a grim expression on her face.
Society of Heroes with Indeterminate Talent Page 3
