B Grade Troll

I’m Wilfred Anders Napoleon Kent,
no, not the one who craves cryptic crosswords,
the one who lives on a diet of skunk carcasses,
sewage leaks and diluted detergent,
under Ramble Road Bridge.
Sometimes my friends call me
Wilfred Anders Napoleon Kent Enrique Rodriguez.
I don’t know why.

When my therapist saw my green skin
and monstrous features,
she assumed I’m a body modification addict.
But I’ve never been tinted by a tattooist,
or sculpted by a scalpel.
My amazing transformation started
during the infancy of the information age.

The internet is an astoundingly efficient
means of mocking losers anonymously.
In 2005, I first noticed
the green tinge from my temples to my toes.
At first,
I thought my liver wasn’t functioning correctly.
The blood tests were inconclusive.
Then I turned white again.
There was no Wi-Fi onboard,
during my Antarctic cruise, you see.

Once ashore,
it took mere hours to restore my hate tan.
I’m Wilfred Anders Napoleon Kent,
the ultimate comments section assassin,
the greatest genius in the nation,
I restore facts to every situation,
I’ve got a black belt in humiliation.

Even my molars
were beginning to look like fangs,
by the time an ill informed loser,
followed my recommendation,
to rid the Earth of her intolerable presence.
My sloping forehead is coming along nicely.

One thought on “B Grade Troll

  1. This is a good run-down of what an internet troll should look like on the outside, so they can be easily identified. Unfortunately, they look normal in the real-world. The cure, as your protagonist found on the Antarctic cruise, is to switch off and stay off. Trolls will then die a slow death from loneliness and pure frustration.

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