Venerable Scribe #FreePalestine 🇵🇸 🎒

YOUNG BOB’S INTERVENTION Living room. Sofa, biscuits, Union Jack cushion. Young Bob sits in the middle looking defensive. Mum, Dad, Auntie Carol, & Uncle Dave are arranged around him. MUM: Right, Bob. We’ve asked everyone here today because we’re worried. YOUNG BOB: Is this about the “We Need to Deport Millions, Change My Mind” stall again? Because the police only held me for twenty-two hours this time. That’s progress. DAD: It’s not just the stalls, son. It’s the pattern. You’re constantly winding people up until someone either hits you or nicks you. Last month it was the university curry incident. Before that it was Speakers’ Corner. Now they’re talking about charging you with something that could actually stick. AUNTIE CAROL: We’re concerned you’ve developed a bit of a… martyr complex. YOUNG BOB: It’s not a martyr complex. It’s free speech. Someone has to say the things nobody else will say. DAD: There’s a difference between being a martyr & being an agitating little cunt with a charging cable. UNCLE DAVE: (leaning forward) Bob. Be honest with us. Are you doing all this because you want to go to prison? YOUNG BOB: What? No. That’s ridiculous. MUM: (gently) Because from the outside it looks like you’re deliberately collecting arrests. And some of us have started to wonder if there’s a… particular reason you keep trying to get locked up. AUNTIE CAROL: We think you might be trying to get yourself sent down so you can have the bum sex. YOUNG BOB: I’m sorry, what? DAD: It’s a reasonable hypothesis. You’re eighteen, you’ve never had a proper girlfriend that we’ve seen, you spend all day arguing with strangers about borders & then filming yourself getting nicked. It’s not a massive leap. UNCLE DAVE: Prison’s got a reputation. You know that, right? Especially for a fresh-faced lad who turns up looking like he just left sixth form. Some of those lads in there have been waiting a long time for someone who fits your… demographic. YOUNG BOB: This is insane. I’m not trying to go to prison for sex. I’m trying to highlight the two-tier policing & the demographic changes happening to this country! MUM: And if that means you end up in a cell with a large man called Darren who calls you “pretty boy,” you’re fine with that? YOUNG BOB: Mum! AUNTIE CAROL: We’re not judging, love. We’re just saying if that’s what you want, there are safer ways. Grindr exists. You don’t have to get yourself done for a public order offence & hope the judge is in a bad mood. DAD: Exactly. We’re happy to support you exploring whatever… lifestyle… you want. Just not if it involves you getting repeatedly arrested until the system finally gives in & sends you to HMP for the full experience. YOUNG BOB: I am not gay. And I do not want to go to prison for that. UNCLE DAVE: Then stop acting like you’re auditioning for it. Every time you set up that table with the big sign & the camera, you’re basically putting “available for processing” on your forehead. MUM: We love you. We just don’t want you to come out of there in a few years with a new nickname & a story you can never tell at Christmas. YOUNG BOB: (quietly) …Can I go back to arguing with people on the internet now? EVERYONE: No.