The Life and Times of Digby Grimes

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Digby Grimes was an ordinary thirteen-year-old boy. He had greasy hair, an abundance of spots and he stank to high Heaven.

Apart from an unhealthy fixation with fish, everything else in his life was perfectly normal. Just like any other boy, he was seen as an inconvenience by his parents, and as an infliction by his siblings. His teachers, quite rightly, considered him a waste of oxygen. Girls, naturally enough, barely acknowledged his existence.

Digby would try to compensate, as young chaps will, by frequently retiring to bed and masturbating furiously, but it was to no avail. The deep-rooted despondency of adolescence had taken its hold. Even his cherished memory of the first time he saw someone dressed as a Nazi officer on the television couldn’t disperse his gloom for more than a second. The poor lad was down in the dumps.

And then one day, everything changed.

A New Hope

The news was on the TV and there was someone talking earnestly about bananas. Young Grimes couldn’t believe it, everything about this person reminded him of his first crush. Digby Grimes was in love.

He found out everything he could about this vision of loveliness. It turned out that his name was Hancock and he belonged to something called the Conservative Party. They had a pretty badge and their colour was a nice soothing blue. Digby liked that, it made him feel safe. He took to reading the Daily Telegraph and ranting about imaginary communists. For once in his life, he felt empowered.

As the weeks went by, though, his passion had faded a little, as passions sometimes do. Whilst he loved the intellectual challenge of contorting his opinions through multiple U-turns and he admired their bare-faced fraudulence, it just wasn’t quite enough. He was beginning to think that being a Tory was okay for beginners but the devoted thrill-seeker needed to look a little bit farther for his kicks.

The Empire Strikes Back

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He’d heard of people like Farage, Trump and Fox but he’d always had the sense to stay away from the hard stuff. They had taught him this at school, how the “heavy shit” could destroy billions of brain cells with every single “hit”. He didn’t want to believe that but deep-down, he knew it was true.

Temptation, however, knows no bounds. Grimes fought his desires gamely but one day he succumbed. “A little bit of Brexit Party can’t hurt”, he told himself, “Ratcliffe does it and he’s made billions!” And it all went downhill from there. Digby became a problem child. His grades plummeted, his behaviour became disruptive and before long, he was suspended for screaming racial insults at the school cat.

Upon his return to school, a second suspension was to follow after he was caught stealing dinners from the poorer boys.

His next return was to be even briefer. After Grimes had bitten all of his classmates in an effort to prove that a true Englishman can’t catch an imaginary disease, the head had no alternative but to exclude him. In spite of his arguments that any laws about biting people probably came from Brussels, the decision was upheld.

Return of the Jedi

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So what would become of the poor lad?

Gripped by an addiction that he could barely feed and abandoned by the system, Grimes had little to look forward to beyond a life of petty crime and a string of short-term prison sentences. He looked worse by the day. Anger had raddled his face. His internal organs were drowning in an excess of bile. He was down to his last dozen brain cells. He had hit rock bottom.

They say that it’s darkest just before the dawn, and they’d be right.

Little Digby gathered his remaining faculties and created a Twitter account. There, he became something of an icon amongst people who tend to advocate the extermination of addicts. Grimes lives happily, to this day, promoting misinformation and malice. He is adored by thousands of people who he will never meet, and all is good. He still hasn’t got to shag either Matt Hancock or Lieutenant Gruber but you can’t get everything that you want.

Digby Grimes is a true hero of our times and a signifier of what the children of Brexit Britain can become.

We salute him!

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