HRH Greg Harrington
When people think of Greg, the word 'raconteur' quickly comes to mind as the thing to which he is in greatest opposition to. A pathetic human being who can usually be found scurrying around smelly bins shortly after dusk, Greg lives off a diet of broken biscuits and used teabags.
With an illustrious academic career now behind him (a second-class honours degree from a former polytechnic and a U in A-Level biology) and with dwindling job prospects in a recession-hit Britain, Greg has made the executive decision to retire forty-five years early.
He writes his blog posts from a bunker (constructed by his parents in 1997 in case the Conservatives ever got back into office), surrounded by multiple tins of S.P.A.M.
He is also indestructable, as he is made from bakelite.
