Ornithophobia

"Look at those monsters. They're fucking disgusting. Somebody should do the world a favor and shoot them" Robin groaned in a gravelly voice as he eyed a flock of vultures picking away at the remains of a deer along the roadside. He reached for a nearby rock and chucked it towards them. Agitated, they shuffled briefly from the disturbance, only to return immediately to picking strips of flesh from the recently deceased. A sneer occupied his long, plain face as he lounged on the steps outside Lincoln High.

Liam nudged him playfully with his elbow. "Bro, cut it out. I know you have some deep, dark vendetta against birds or some shit, but they're doing us a favor. Nasty as vultures may be, they clean up roadkill which is way nastier" he said with a vaguely Swedish accent. Liam, always the optimist, took every opportunity to debunk Robin's complaints. It was one of the reasons Robin liked hanging out with him.

He was not convinced. "Just look at those bastards. Ever see a bird smile? Hell no, they just look pissed off all the time. Check out their feet, they're made to just tear shit up. They aren't cute and cuddly little sweethearts; those are dinosaurs, only fun sized and just as ready to raise hell given the chance" He reached for another rock, but Liam's arm darted out and snatched it first.

Liam stood up in front of him, tossing the rock up and catching it. He grinned playfully, his blond hair and fair complexion only lending to his contagious positive disposition. "That'll be enough of that bro. You know as resident vegetarian and general fan of animals, I can't let you do that. Save it for someone who deserves it"

Robin shot him a skeptical glance. "Like hunters, mad scientists who test shampoos on chimpanzees, anyone who enjoys a good steak, right?"

"Especially assholes who think steak is good!" Liam exclaimed with a grin as he raised an arm, preparing to launch the rock at his friend.

With a laugh, Robin raised his hands in front of his face. "Alright Ace Ventura, you win! I'll leave your precious vultures alone! They're still ugly as sin, though, you can't deny that!"

"I never said they were good looking! But Penguins... Those gentlemen have style!"

"Penguins? Really? Fuckin' Penguins? They waddle like dipshits man" He was growing genuinely frustrated; Liam didn't understand how much birds bothered him.

"They waddle like dipshits...In tuxedos! Admit it, bro, some bird shit on you when you were a kid and you just never got over it. It's not worth waging a war over, right?" Liam stated, leaning against a railing. Robin relaxed and leaned back next to him, watching the carrion birds picking away at the fleshy remains.

"I guess you could say they contributed to a traumatic childhood. Seriously, birds scare the shit out of me. Some people hate spiders, or big dogs, or whatever... I just can't handle birds. Everything about them makes my skin crawl." He spoke to his friend softly as his eyes fixated on the gruesome feeding before them. Another pair of dark wings touched down near the flock, ignoring the fresh kill. It stood still, facing Robin, tilting its pink, misshaped head as if it was staring directly at him. He felt his palms getting sweaty and he curled his fingers into a fist.

Liam patted him gently on the back. "Everyone has something that scares them, bro. Don't let it get the best of you, yeah?" Robin smiled and nodded in return. Liam took a cursory glance around and nudged his friend. "You know what's better than debating the merits of avian kind? Debating the merits of avian kind while high as a fucking kite."

Robin's grin was wide. "Fuck some birds, let's get baked before homeroom."

***

Robin's tall, lanky frame lazily slouched at his desk, the barest smirk touching his lips. Biology was incredibly boring, but tolerable after sneaking in a smoke with Liam. Mr. Stiles droned on and on about the evolution of birds from dinosaurs called Theropods, but he wasn't going to let that bother him. Robin tried to tune out all that talk of fossils and tried to picture his teacher as a mad scientist. It wasn't that far of a stretch; he was an older man, balding, with thinning white hair that hung from the back of his cranium and matching eyebrows that darted out just off his face. His expression seemed to naturally rest on a scowl so all he really needed was a white lab coat and a lair full of equipment. Inspired, Robin made a rough sketch of Mr. Stiles as such, complete with a robot strapped to a table and lightning striking in the background. He passed his artwork behind him, to Liam. His friend silently chuckled and started making a doodle of his own.