"And that's another thing. Kids today! Look at you! With your spiked up hair all different colors, your pierced nose, your tattoos. It's no wonder you all do drugs! It's the only way you can stand to look at yourselves!"

Fire just shrugged and gazed at his shoes over the ring in his nose.

"Oh, I've read all about your so-called generation X, your angst and your woes, your unguided believe-in-nothingness. You want angst? Try sitting in a valley for the entire winter, with no food and no shoes for your feet !"

Fire raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Your lot just needs a swift kick in the seat of the pants, that's what I say. When I was your age, we didn't wait for opportunity- we went out and found it!"

"Things are different now, though." Fire replied.

"Bull spitootie! You're just a bunch of lazy good for nothings. Isn't that right, Bill?"

The Bill of Rights was sitting on the bench. "That's right, Connie. Lazy good for nothings."

"I mean, Bill there, he worked his ass off so-"

Just then, the lyrics from Busta Rhyme's Put Your Hands Where my Eyes Could See walked up. "Hey Fire. What's hap'nin."

Fire shrugged. "Just talkin' to these old dudes."

"And I was telling him about the work we did for you. Like Bill there- he worked his ass off so you could pray whenever you want, whatever you want- you don't even pray!"

Fire and Put just looked at him.

"He gave you free speech- and how do you use it? 'Danger illustrated, filth infatuated .' What kind of crap is that?"

"Actually," Fire started, "I'm not American, I'm from Bri-"

"Doesn't matter! You're here, right?"

Fire and Put shrugged.

"And you! Bill there gives you the right to bear arms- and you shoot each other? What's wrong with this picture, huh? He gives you freedom of the press, and you don't read..."

"And Connie," Bill said, "He gave you the right to vote! And you don't even vote!"

"Nobody to vote for," Put said.

"That doesn't matter! Good for nothings!" Bill almost shouted.

"Yea, that's not the point," Connie said. "You've got a lot of rights that they would have killed for two hundred and fifty years ago, and you don't even care, you just ride your skateboards and drink your coca colas and take drugs and-"

The lyrics from the Spice Girls' Wannabe rode by on her scooter. "Hey Fire, hey Put," she shouted at them.

"-and breed like rabbits," Connie continued, eying Wannabe as she rode away. "Spreading diseases and all manner of-"

"We didn't have AIDS in my day, I can tell you that," Bill interjected.

"Naw, ya'll had syphilis and shit," Put said.

"Yea, didn't George have syphilis?" Fire asked.

"You see Bill, no respect!" Connie looked at the two boys. "In my day, we respected out elders. We did as we were told and we didn't ask questions!"

Put just stared at him.

"You know what I mean, damnit. I mean elders, not owners."

Put rolled his eyes.

"It's crap, anyway. You guys overthrew an entire country. Some respect," Fire stated.

"A corrupt government, one that insisted on taxing us without giving us a say in their affairs. Besides, that wasn't Bill and me, that was Deck."

The Declaration of Independence looked up long enough to say, "What?"

"Never mind Deck, it's allright." Bill patted him on the shoulder.

"It's my birthday tomorrow, you know," Deck said.

"Okay Deck, allright." Bill patted him on the shoulder.

Deck nodded and went back to sleep.

"And if you respected your elders, like me and Bill and Deck over there, maybe you wouldn't be so god damned lazy! Maybe you'd see how hard your parents and your grandparents worked to get where they are, and you'd do the same!" Connie was starting to get a little flushed.

"Yeah, you kids today, you don't know the first thing about work!" Bill said. "Like Connie was saying before, in our day, you didn't wait for opportunity to pick you up, you went out and found it yourself!"

Put just stared at him.

"That's not what I meant, goddamnit. I mean jobs, I mean education, I mean taking advantage of your freedoms, not taking them for granted."

"Besides," Connie said, "I fixed that with my 13th . But do I get any thanks? No..." He rolled his eyes.

Put shrugged.

Fire looked at the old men. "So what should we do, huh? Get us some Indian paint and some boxes of tea and throw them in the bay? That gonna fix things for us?"

"Fix what things?" Connie said. "That tea represented the oppression and lack of freedom that I afterword guaranteed so kids like you could have a decent life. And now you do!"

"Whatever, man." Put said.

The bus arrived, and they got in line to board. "Just take that damn earring out of your nose, and put it to the grindstone, and maybe you'll see what I'm talking about."

"Hey man," Put replied. "Everybody is young once. Not everybody gets a chance to be old."

That shut the elderly fucks up for a while.