My sliver of a body quivers in the biting cold. Leaves gust past as I perch silently—proudly—on guard atop my metal post. I do not need to shout my orders, for all who behold my bold crimson hue, my severe, masculine angles, obey my evident authority.
Suddenly, footsteps crunch on the pavement behind me, halting just at my back. My eyes strain frantically to the extremes of my peripheral vision. I cannot see! I hear the pop of something being uncapped. I feel the misty, concentrated rush of air, hear the spraying of the pressurized can. Vandals!!!!!!!! Noooooooooooo!!!!!!
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