Old people, they’re terrible aren’t they. Stinking up buses, littering pavements and voting Conservative.
I saw an old person on TV once, they complained about foreigners, but denied being a “racialist”.
Most of us will never see an old person, as we’re too busy paying their pensions. Waking up at the crack of dawn, the daft old sods materialise around 9:01 and make a slug-line for the nearest bus stop. Sometimes they can be spotted in pairs, but are often unaccompanied because their friends were killed off by sepsis or gout. They travel to the nearest town centre to buy meat paste and ear medicine, before disappearing entirely around 3pm.
A popular hangout for old people is the hospital waiting room, which acts as a sort of anti-youth centre. The sterile smell and access to painkillers gives them a cheap thrill, as they complain about immigrants clogging up the health service.
Possibly the greatest mystery surrounding old people is where they buy their clothes. You never see those puffy, pastel-coloured coats in shops, yet every single old person wears one, come rain or shine.
I believe – although it is contested by research – these coats act as a deterrent to their natural predator, winter. They are instructed to wear these coats in all conditions, as cold weather can only see standard primary colours and will not reap their vulnerable bodies as long as they remain cocooned.
It’s impossible to chat with old people, whose deafness and fondness for long-forgotten old shit prevent them from acknowledging what’s been said. Make no mistake, they will talk at you, but you’d better be prepared to hear that story about working in an abattoir again, as if all life’s problems can be solved by unrelated reminisces.
Old people fear only two things: the aforementioned months of November – March; and change, which they resist just as fiercely. So with such pressing terrors on their minds, it’s safe to say they won’t be spooked by the terrifying pictures below.
I have idea who this silly old cunt is, but his weathered face haunts me as I sleep. You can almost smell the potent blend of Werthers Originals and Gaviscon just by looking at him.
The lines on his face act as camouflage, and his wrinkly chin scares off smaller mammals who might otherwise steal his acorns. Like many old men, his nose looks somewhat like a penis, hence his bloodcurdling code name.
I’m getting good at illustrating shadows, and was very pleased with the shading on the left side of his face. I feel this gives him a Harvey Dent appearance, which I’m sure he’d get a good laugh out of. He looks like a fun-loving old chappie doesn’t he. I bet he could tell you some fucking stories!
I think I got the timbre of his mouth spot on, but it took my hours of practice, so try not to be upset if you don’t get such pleasing results straight away.
Fun fact: Koalas are not bears, they are marsupials, and cannot easily digest all the eucalyptus leaves they consume.
The thing with old folk is that you never know where their neck begins.
Old people rating out of five: 4.2
The horror, the horror! Just look at this fucking calamity. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just. I did what I could.
Annie was once a high-flying Member of Parliament, beloved for her witty sayings and sonorous singing voice. Many a time did she serenade Roy Jenkins from across the despatch box.
Most people choose not to take her at face value, but make no mistake, her face is practically worthless, and when she says she will eat your skin, she really means it.
I did my best to humanise the old cunt, but the best I could do was giving her sad-looking eyes. Don’t be tricked! She is evil incarnate. The bottom lip took a lot of effort to get right, but it gives a good glimpse into what it looks like when she gores a newborn so she may stalk another day. Her hair is her best feature.
Fun fact: Annie likes to dance, and she often tells tales about dancing with the devil. There is a rumour she sold her soul for eternal youth, and some even say she keeps a disgusting painting in her loft as a constant reminder.
Look ma, no hands!
Old people rating out of five: Despicable
Look everyone, it’s the nation’s favourite TV biscuit dipping instructor, Maureen Buggerthorpe, and her travelling circus show.
Most of you will know her from her programme ‘Dunking a British Biscuit in a Cup of British Tea Contest’ where she cajoles the poor contestants with withering put-downs about their weight, as the nation watches on in stunned horror.
Maureen first entered TV land in 1937, at the tender age of 55, where she worked as an assistant to Oswald Mosley. She has been at the BBC ever since, except for two days in 1998 and a spell in the mid-1940s, when she took an undisclosed leave of abscence.
The lines on her face and neck gave me a seizure. I’m not sure it was worth the effort, I couldn’t even make her look half human. Overall, disappointing.
Fun fact: Maureen hates tea, and blacks. She was once sick at the sight of Desmond Tutu.
Eyes are the window to the soul.
I do not believe the rumours about her.
Old people rating out of five: Off the scale