Grant The Rant

They called him Grant the Rant. They said it was because he enjoyed ranting but it was simply a rhyming thing. He didn’t rant. Ed wasn’t a Ned, Dan wasn’t a man, Mike didn’t have wheels and no one was sure about Frank.

Grant was attractive in a modest way, and girls liked him, partly because he didn’t outshine them. Despite this, his last three girlfriends dropped him when they decided he was living up to his nickname.

Take Mel.

‘I’m tired,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long day.’

‘Yes. You told me earlier and now you’re ranting about it. Give me a break.’

Or Angelique.

‘That Keir Starmer isn’t popular,’ she said.

‘He isn’t but that doesn’t make him a bad leader. Some of the best politicians were unpopular,’ he said.

‘All right. Stop ranting. I don’t need a lecture,’ she said.

Then there was Bethany.

‘The telly’s boring,’ he said.

‘Well don’t go on. Stop ranting. Try something else,’ she said as she launched the TV remote. ‘We’re finished and I’m off.’

Just as Bethany put on her coat, Grant cheered up. ‘Yes! You’re right Bethany,’ he said. ‘I’ll try something else. Thanks for the last couple of months. Bye then,’ said Grant. ‘I hope you meet someone nice.’

Try something else is exactly what I need to do.

* * *

Next day, Grant said, ‘I’ve changed my name. I want to try something new.’

‘What have you changed it to?’ asked Miles with Piles.

‘I’ve changed it to Troy.’

‘Troy? Yeah, it suits you. But what will the cool guys call you?’

‘The only word that works with it is boy. I’ll be Troy the Boy. It makes me sound fresh, adventurous, and fun. I’ll be a hit with the girls, and popular with the lads.’

Troy announced his new name and waited for the replacement nickname to be awarded. He hung about close to the cool boys; if cool boys gave you a nickname, it stuck.

Eventually, Monty approached Troy. Monty was six foot two, slim, sporty, and had a decent amount of stubble. His father was Jasper Van Casper, the internet billionaire, and his mother was former specialist model Melody la Bomme Bomme. Monty la Bomme Bomme Van Casper was the essence of cool.

‘Hey man, we hear you’ve changed your name to Troy,’ said Monty. ‘We have a new nickname for you.’

Troy was grateful that Monty had deigned to talk to him. ‘I assume I’m Troy the Boy,’ he said.

Monty laughed. ‘Dude, rhyming nomenclature has been in use since 1987. It was my father who started that trend. We’ve given up that style. Our new lexicon relies on associations.’

Troy was impressed by Monty’s vocabulary. He found himself feeling a little excited by him. A bro crush – what a vocabulary.

‘Oh cool. How does the new lexicon work?’

‘Well, we took Troy. The classicists among us thought of the ancient city – famous for the Trojan Horse, which in modern parlance is—’

He’s so knowledgeable. So smart and suave, thought Troy.

‘—a type of computer malware. It’s like a virus.’

‘I see,’ said Troy. ‘That sounds exciting.’

‘Henceforth, from today ad infinitum,’ said Monty, ‘you will be called Virus.’

Virus? Virus? Is that the best you could do? Who is going to go out with a boy called Virus? It makes me sound like I have flu, measles, an STI or worse.

Virus was depressed. Girls didn’t notice him, or they talked about the viruses they’d heard he’d caught. The younger kids who should be terrified of his status as a senior pupil laughed at him in the corridor.

* * *

When he got home, his father was dancing to hi-energy techno music as usual.

‘I’m going up to my room,’ said Virus.

‘Are you all right, son?’ his dad asked.

‘No.’ He went upstairs.

Dad removed his bandana and lay down his tambourine. He turned the music off, before following Virus upstairs.

‘It’s school, dad.’

‘Tell your old man. Maybe I can help. I wasn’t always the cool guy that you see in front of you today. I had a bad time at school for a while.’

‘Everyone at school has a nickname. It was based on rhyming.’

‘It was the same in 1987 when I was at school. I was miserable until I became Dave the Rave. As soon as I got that nickname, I became the coolest guy in school. The rave scene was huge, and my dancing was off the planet. But more importantly, I had a reputation as a ‘raver’ with the ladies if you know what I mean,’ said dad. ‘A strong sexual appetite. Ask your mother.’ His Day-Glo T shirt was tight, and it caused the whistle he wore around his neck to bobble about as he talked.

‘I was Grant the Rant and I hated it,’ said Virus. ‘Girls kept dumping me, so I wanted to be Troy the Boy,’ he explained. ‘I told everyone my new name was Troy.’

‘Troy the Boy. That’s cute, son. Girls will like it.’

‘They didn’t call me that though. My new nickname is Virus. They changed the system.’

Dad thought for a few seconds. ‘Virus is fine. You can work with that.’

‘I sound like Covid, dad.’

‘You need to think meta, son,’ said dad. ‘Viruses evolve.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Live with Virus for a few weeks and then let it evolve into Viral.’

‘Viral isn’t much better, is it?’

‘Live with that for a few weeks and let it evolve again into Virile,’ said dad, his eyes lighting up. ‘It means manly.’

‘Virile… I love it.’

‘And so will the girls. Virile suggests that you are fertile, gifted, and capable,’ said Dad, nodding down towards his son’s crotch. ‘Like your old man at your age.’

‘Dad… enough.’

‘No, son. It’s not enough. Remember what I told you about the birds and the bees and how condoms stop the birds from eating the bees? Now’s the time to start putting it into practice.’

‘Dad… no, stop it. Not the birds and bees again.’

‘Tell your mum, son. She’ll be thrilled. Don’t mention the condom bit though.’

‘It’s ok. Mum doesn’t need to know.’

‘No, we’ll tell her. It’ll stop her worrying. She’s got a funny story about her school nickname as well,’ said Dad. ‘Darling, come and tell Virile, I mean Grant about how you got your nickname at school.’

No reply.

Dad shouted again, ‘Lexy. Come and tell our son what made you a legend.’