The Brutaliser
Photo of a stuffed toy with a smiley face; carrot nose; green pointy hat, scarf, and mittens; red socks; and black booties. It is carrying some skis and poles and there is a light brown button on the hat.
This guy might look friendly, but I can assure you it’s not. To be honest, I struggle to even look upon it, such is the fear it instills in me, but look I must. It is imperative that I muster the courage for, without my gaze, I cannot divine its story. And I know from my scalp down to my toes that I must protect you with my warnings.
This guy, its name… its name is The Brutaliser. It thinks it’s doing the right thing, hence the seemingly innocuous smile on its face, but I assure you it’s not. It’s gone way over the top and has lost all sense of perspective.
The Brutaliser is eternal. When it finds itself a victim, it kind of peels a layer off of itself and then goes on to torment that victim for as long as it sees fit. The more you react, the longer it stays around for the torment. The Brutaliser is nourished and renewed by reaction.
The Brutaliser is known to just walk into local pubs and bars and start shit kicking. When its big and ungainly feet grow tired, it takes those poles and skis and starts bashing, and then finally uses its (actually very sharp) carrot nose to do some stabbing. It’s got some crazy rage from no-one-knows-where, and it doesn’t rest until it’s vented.
The strange thing is that, after all that violence, The Brutaliser tends to just settle down, ask for a pint of mild, a bag of cheese and onion crisps, no less than three pickled eggs, and then chills out. It never has to pay because the bartenders are always too afraid to provoke a new round of wrath. It is said that Eddie from the Star and Garter asked for payment once and well, Eddie bled so much that his insides were on tap. No one has dared ask since.
Legend has it, that if you are able to grab the button off The Brutaliser’s hat during a round of the kicking of the shit, then it will be deactivated. The button is what links the animated onion layer to the essence of brutality deep down within the stuffing of the primary. You need to give the button a good yank so that it rips clean off, and then *poof* The Brutaliser will vanish.
Kent locals are quite friendly and were concerned that my reportage would put people off visiting the area. So, for the next four weeks on Tuesday afternoons at 3pm, they are running a Button Grabbing course at a Soakham Farm outbuilding. I do hope you will attend. This particular stretch of the North Downs Way between Wye and Canterbury is otherwise really quite nice, and I’d hate for my report about The Brutaliser to put you off.
Listen to me read The Brutaliser: