Silently, I dropped down from the wall. I watched the two youths spray-paint their graffiti onto the walls. I imagined how to solve this. Upstandingman would probably give them a lesson in manners - quite literally.
He was an obnoxious little man, and had been ever since school. He'd teach them to respect their elders and clean up after themselves. Afterwards, they'd probably clean this alleyway right up. Hell, they'd probably even clean the drunken tramp I was using to silence my footsteps. Sure, those were good lessons, but I wasn't one of those morally upstanding superheroes like Upstandingman or Superpope. I was the Gramminator, and I was one of those bad-ass heroes.
I'd even worn a leather trench-coat for a while, but the damn thing was too tight to move my arms in. These days, I went for the simple, edgy look - black, military style clothing, and some lightweight armour.
I read the wall. In a pained, spray-painted voice it told me that 'Drew was ere 2K9'. I listened to the word on the walls some more, and it told me, "Call Stacy for good time's"
I stepped out of the shadows, pointing with barely concealed rage at the two youths.
"Eh? What'ya mean?" Asked the first.
"Here. The word should be 'here'. If you insist on using 'ere, it should have an apostrophe at the least," I turned to the Second teen. "And times doesn't need an apostrophe. It implies ownership. Move the apostrophe. NOW!"
They laughed, and turned to walk away. I'd warned them once, and that was one time too many. I made them eat the spray-paint cans, and left them in the alleyway. If they manage to survive that, then maybe they deserve another chance. I'd like to have made sure they didn't, but I was in a rush.
A Supervillian is on the rise. His plan is to open a string of shops called "Markies". His name is Mark, and someone needs to stop him.