We will call him Oscar

"We will call him Oscar..Oscar Winston."
"No we won't" replied Theresa.
"Yer Oscar Winston, you done a great job, darling, well done!"
"It's not a driving test, Steve!"
"All the same, he's beautiful."

Steve hung around the hospital, generally getting in the way for
another hour and then when Theresa was asleep he went home. Sitting
there on his own, after making and receiving all the calls to various
friends and family. He was having a self congratulatory drink or two
when he heard the stones hitting the window. The local kids had
revelled in his shingled front garden for a number of weeks now and
numerous altercations had ensued. Now they just done it to get a rise
out of him. It never failed. He opened the curtains, tink, tink tink
tink stones peppered the fragile glass of his old sash window.
"Oiiiii." He shouted. Tink, tink, then laughter. "Right he said to
himself stumbling over the coffee table, that's it!

Steve had been ruminating about breaking some glass bottles in the
shingle, but Theresa was appalled at his thinking, in fact, Theresa was
the only reason things hadn't escalated more than this already,
unfortunately Theresa wasn't here now. Steve was in the kitchen, the
carving knife was the biggest knife he had, and he decided that this
would scare them the most, then he heard the window break.

Bulldozing out of the house he found six sixteen to eighteen year olds
in various states of either cheering, laughing or silence. Steve knew
which one was the ring leader, their shouting matches were known to the
whole street!

"What the fuck are doing?" Steve asked pathetically
"Piss off!" Came the usual reply of the ring leader.
Then the ring leader saw the knife that Steve had quite forgotten
about. "He's got a knife!" He shouted. The group bobbed uneasily waited
for something to happen, the ring leader started taunting Steve. Steve
transfixed between the window and the little punks insults, stood for a
moment and then with anger too explosive to bear started towards him.
The ring leader lunged for the knife, Steve lifted it to get it out of
his reach, there was a struggle then Steve fell to his knees. The ring
leader pulled away, holding the knife, bloodied and black in the
evening light. Then they ran, the knife dropped, discarded.

Steve lay on the path and looked vacantly at his blood pooling around
his torso. Then it struck him, Oscar Winston was a stupid name, and
with that, he died.

Theresa's boy, now nine years old complains every evening to her for
being given such a ridiculous name, and she replies "It's what your
father wanted!"