The Internet: a wondrous place where you can seek out information about anything you care to think of, some of it even factually accurate; a stream of perpetual entertainment catering to every proclivity imaginable, including the one where small furry animals get body slammed by half tonne women simultaneously getting an enema, who actually turn out to be robots. It’s a thing but you won’t be able to find it unless you have Gold Membership. To everything.

The best feature by far of this global web of interconnectivity is the ability to engage in forums with anonymous peers heralding from the far flung reaches of the world, coming together to discuss prevalent ideas and philosophies such as “which actress DOES have the biggest breasts” and “why isn’t my 10” giraffe shaped vibrator reaching optimal rpm when inserted into my Chihuahua’s anus?”.

Nestled amongst these earnest and dignified users lurks a nefarious subculture of beings, casting their lines baited with provocation waiting for a bite. We know such creatures as Trolls or ‘arse holes’. The profession has become easier to adopt with the luxury of anonymity bestowed by hiding behind a keyboard like a little bitch, but what of those noble men and women who had the balls to troll people right to their goddam face? People like Mr Bean.

“The child in a grown man’s man body” to some, “The balls out mental sociopath” to others, Mr Bean has cultivated an innocent veneer of buffoonery, but beneath this caricature is a malevolent beast, feeding on the misfortune of others. Truly, Mr Bean is the first troll.

He lives alone and seemingly has no occupation, giving him ample time to roam the city of London cruising for his next victim.

Should you be unlucky enough to anger him, his vengeance will follow you forever more, knowing no bounds.

His social circle consists of a woollen bear named ‘Teddy’ whose hideously disfigured visage could point to some Dorian Grey-esque sale of his immortal soul or just really bad workmanship.

Having mysteriously managed to wrangle himself a woman, the relationship soon breaks down when Bean is consumed with the urge to troll during his downtime.

He ingratiates himself into a community before turning on them with an almost premeditated malignity.

Even the sweet release of sleep can’t quell the trollish urges.

In this simpler, pre-internet age, trolls roamed free and got in your face about it. They were majestic beasts. But thanks to the dirty, stained overcoat of the web, they’ve multiplied exponentially, flashing their half-baked attempts at trolling at anyone who looks their way. Mr Bean, we salute you and your kind. You will be sorely missed.

Author Gamer Girl writes for FrontTowardsGamer.com and GamerGirlTalk.com. It is highly recommended you follow her on Twitter.
Previously in Poison Popcorn: YAKUZA WEAPON! See previous Poison Popcorns right fucking here!