Bob is good

Robert T. Armstrong was a bad man. Or at least he wanted to be a bad man, only he wasn't really very good at it. This did not make a huge amount of difference in his normal every day, boring life, but it did make him feel slightly guilty when he held the door open to any nice old ladies who happened to want to get through. Often, when entering shops with only one door he would find himself trapped for hours, as a stream of busy shoppers pushed brusquely past him, often with scant heed of his good deed. Come Christmas time this led to serious difficulties and had trapped him, at one point, for six hours at the door to marks and spencers, even though there was a perfectly serviceable automatic door just yards from him. Apparently his door opening service was preferable to any machine.
His progress up the high street was further hindered by the presence of volunteers for the many charities vying for his money. An average trip to the supermarket cost him in the region of seven hundred pounds and three hours of his life as he had the many benifits that such and such a charity brought to the blind, or the old, or the deaf or the poor or even in some cases just the exceedingly smelly. He found it very hard to say no to these obviously very nice people who were just trying to do some good in this world. Unfortunately this had left him several thousand pounds in debt and with a wide variety of shady individuals wish to introduce him to a collection of blunt and not so blunt objects, and then take away his television set. It had surprised him quite conciderably that unicef would employ such people.
So, he decided, enough was enough. No longer would he be left standing in the doorway as normal everyday people went about their business with not even the slightest tweak of their concience, or pang of guilt!
"Bastards!" he yelled, jumping up and startling his 9 month old tabby, imaginitively named Whiskers,
"Fucking, cunting, arsing, Wankering, toe sucking, whore licking, dog humping Bastards!! That's it! I've had it!!"
"So what'll you do?" A silken, almost purring voice whispered in his ear. A waft of sulphur, like the incontinence of a thousand cats enveloped his nostrils.
Robert's eyes swiveled around in their sockets- someone was quite clearly stood right behind him where no one had been just a moment before.
"Are you just going to let them continue their pitiful lives