Old Pissant

Half the man he used to be


A bearded wreck of a man, constantly mumbling a stream of mad consciousness under his breath. Swathed in bandages down all his right hand side, the man now gives off an unsavoury odour of meat, going rancid. And something else – the earthy scent of fungus perhaps?

Used to claim his name was John once.


Old Pissant

London Underground Pedant