Society of Heroes with Indeterminate Talent (3 page)

3.

The streets of London

The hulking shaven-headed muscular black man plucked the cash from the ATM dispenser machine and stuffed the money into his left pocket.  He turned to leave when he felt a sharp object being pushed into his back.

"Gimme all your cash!" hissed a squeaky, nervous voice.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stay calm and don’t be doing anything rash, son," said the black man in a deep baritone voice, as he raised his hands up slowly without turning around.  "Just give me a second and I'll give you what you want."

"Just give me all that money you just drew out otherwise I'll cut you up real good." piped the armed robber.

"With that thing you got pressed in my back?"

"Yes." spat the robber menacingly and applying a little more pressure to his knife hand making the black man squirm a little.

"It feels like a butter knife."

"It's a very sharp butter knife.  I spent hours on this home sharpener I bought the other day."

"But the purpose of a butter knife is to spread butter onto bread, so why not just buy a real knife if you're planning on robbing people?"

"Coz' I aint got no money."

"Makes sense," muttered the black man before frowning.  "Yet, you bought a home sharpener?  Why didn’t you just not buy a home sharpener and use the money to buy a knife instead?"

"I didn’t buy a home sharpener really, I stole it.  What difference does it make?" shrieked the robber growing impatient.

"Calm down, son.  I just feel I need to understand the facts around this terrifying ordeal.  So tell me, do you still use it to retrieve butter from the tub container when you aren’t using it in armed robberies, because I can't see it accumulating much butter on the surface of the blade?"

"Aren't you scared I'm going to cut you up, because I swear I will?"

"Well it doesn’t feel particularly threatening to me, son." said the black man craning his neck over his shoulder to get a look at his attacker.

"Don’t you dare look at me!" shouted the robber.

"Are you kidding me, son?  What are you like, twelve?" asked the black man, chuckling loudly and swatting the knife arm away.

He stared hard at the short hooded robber in disbelief, before planting his hands on his hips and shaking his head.

"You're what, one hundred pounds?"

"I'm one hundred and twenty." grumbled the robber staring down at his worn trainers.

"I'm six foot six, two hundred and fifty-two pounds, and live in the most underdeveloped borough of London, and you're trying to rob me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I'm a goner now," said the black man, bursting into a wide grin.

"Are you not scared then?"

"I'm positively shaken by this incident.  It's heart-stopping in its intensity."

"Then why are you laughing?" asked the robber looking offended.

The black man bit his lip with tears streaming down his cheeks, and then suddenly burst into loud guffaws.

"I'm-I'm sorry but I can't stop laughing." he said holding himself against the brick wall next to the ATM with his shoulders heaving.

"This isn’t meant to be funny, I-I really will cut you up." hissed the robber waving the knife.

"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.