Zomcats!
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A stone whistled past Bob Slawit’s ear, missing it by millimetres and almost knocking him off balance.
“Ha, ha ha! Nice one, Nipper!” Said Bigfucka Briggs.
Bigfucka was the leader of the Savages, a teenage gang that had been terrorising the villagers of Nobblethwaite for months.
Encouraged by the words of his leader, Nipper Davies pranced up behind Slawit and gave him an energetic kick up the backside. Slawit turned on his attacker, waving his white stick angrily. Unfortunately he was unable to see much more than a dark shadow which danced nimbly out of range as he swung his stick at it.
“I’ll ’ave yer, yer little fucking bastard,” he fumed impotently, as more stones came his way. “I’ll make yer bloody well pay.”
As the word ‘pay’ left his lips, a particularly large stone hit him on the forehead. He staggered backward from the force of it, blood spurting onto the cobbles from the wound it had made. He dropped his stick and covered the wound with his veined old hands.