You will never have dental care. You have no floss, you have no toothpaste, you have no mouthwash. You are an unhygenic man twisted by tea and crumpets into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.

All the “tally-ho’s” you get are two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your lads are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “mates” laugh at your ghoulish smile behind closed doors.

Dentists are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of medical science have allowed doctors to clean teeth with incredible efficiency. Even Englishmen who “brush their teeth” look uncanny and unnatural to a dentist. Your rotting gums are a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to make an appointment with a dentist, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected maw.

You will never be able to chew solid food. You wrench out a few meager strokes of the toothbrush at the top of the morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the halitosis creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, buy a suicide license, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your queen will find you, heartbroken but relieved that she no longer has to live with the unbearable stench. They’ll bury you without your dentures, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know an Englishman is buried there. Your remaining teeth will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your toiletries is a toothbrush that was never opened