Greyhound Portrait

Greyhound Portrait of Anthroxville Character Bertie Plimsoll Anthropomorphic Art Display Image

Greyhound Portrait

Bertie Plimsoll

 

In the grand tragicomedy of Anthroxville, Bertie Plimsoll struts and frets his hour upon the stage, an anthro greyhound whose fall from grace is as spectacular as it is pitiful. Once the darling of high society, now he's the clown prince of public indecency, a living cautionary tale against the perils of misplaced pride.

 

Bertie's descent from the lofty heights of the Embaristocracy to the grimy gutters of common life is a slapstick tumble that would make even Kingsley Throttle's most spectacular crashes seem graceful by comparison. His impeccable blue blazer, now stained and threadbare, hangs on his frame like a tattered banner of former glory.

 

At Mario Miff’s Inconvenience Store, where he now bags groceries with aristocratic disdain, Bertie's catchphrase "Fuck off, old sport" is delivered with the same panache he once reserved for ordering champagne. Each paper or plastic query is met with a sneer that could curdle milk, his fall from grace evident in every perfectly enunciated syllable.

 

But it's on Anthroxville's street corners where Bertie truly shines in his newfound infamy. His public acts of self-gratification have become a twisted tourist attraction, a lewd performance art that leaves spectators caught between laughter and horror. "You know I'm good for it," he howls to the jeering crowd, his glasses fogging up with each pant, a bizarro-world echo of his desperate plea to Victor Wallop for a loan.

 

As Lieutenant Larry Mooch approaches, nightstick at the ready, Bertie sees not an officer of the law, but an audience member arriving fashionably late to his grand performance. In Bertie's deluded mind, each arrest is merely an encore, each night in the drunk tank a VIP after-party.

 

In a city where the social ladder is more of a greased pole, Bertie Plimsoll stands as a testament to the fickle nature of status. He is Anthroxville's favorite faded photograph, a sepia-toned reminder that in this town, today's toast of society is tomorrow's public pud-puller...

 

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