Another few weeks. Another couple of people moving in. Benji had heard and seen estate agents, but there was no point trying to get rid of them. It was like killing wasps; it would make the world a very slightly better place, but, without taking out the nest, there would just be another one of the stinging little bastards to take its place. He’d sat there in the middle of the room as it was painted once again, laughing bitterly from the sofa while they blindly removed the profanities, blasphemy and nudity he’d daubed all over the walls to get the previous fuckers out. Apparently, they thought there were squatters or local kids who kept tagging the place. To be fair, the disembodied spirit of a previous tenant wouldn’t have been his first guess, either. Every so often, he would move things around just to confuse the painters, just for his own amusement. He’d pay for it in the end; another few minutes without peace and quiet, because every few minutes he distracted them, the longer they would stay – and that was without taking into account their bonus score-multiplier that somehow entitled them to take more than the requisite amount of tea breaks and talk about drivel.

Still, it gave him a few more moments to filch another pot of paint. It was shitty decorating paint, but better than nothing. And it would come in handy, if some more tenants were going to try to get their feet under the table.

The fabled day arrived, heralded by the slam of the front door. To work, Benji said to himself, with a sigh of both spiteful joy and more general irritation. Tearing the lid off one of the tins of paint and grabbing a brush, he marched deftly into the hall and set to work, smearing neat, rounded lines in the effigy that would echo through the collective consciousness of mankind until the end of time; a dirty great phallus glowing in perfect white paint against the beige wall. Well, he prided himself on his penis- scrawls; neater than most, with comically rounded features. All that it needed now were those oh-so-predictable droplets – one, two, and-

“Fraser there's a guy up here. Do you have any idea how rude you're being and how illegal this is? First of all this is breaking and entering. Second of all that's defacement of property. I should call the cops on you.”

Well, that was a first. He’d rarely done the disembodied floating things at people bit, but he’d never known them to react so calmly. It was typically met with screams and hurried footsteps in the best possible direction: away. What was she doing? Telling off the paintbrush?

Wait.

[i]’There’s a guy up here?’ Me?[/i]

Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, brush still balanced perfectly against the wall for the final mark of ejaculate. There she was, hands on hips, staring right back at his curious frown. With his free hand, he waved his hand at her, slowly. Without missing a beat, she waved back. 

There was no doubt.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

Without a word, Benji turned on his heels, stuck his arm straight out and walked down the hall and to his room, trailing the brush along the wall in a soft, curving motion, leaving a gentle streak of white behind him, kicking the door behind him shut. He was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words.