A star is not quite born

Well, at least not airborne...
That wee bastard is the last of the noisy lot that was born on the grounds of the Repair Factory. His brothers and sisters and multitude of first cousins have all taken to the air and are now happily dive-bombing on terrified chips eaters and ice cream cones lickers around the Fair City. 
This one is a slow learner. And he is mightily pissed off about it too.