His every conceivable professional aspiration achieved by the age of thirty-three, and his legacy as undefeated champion of campus and television battlefields eternally guaranteed, in 2017, Milo Yiannopoulos retired. Milo was the most influential and prolific writer and activist of his generation throughout a short but dazzling career in which he prayed for, but was never granted, a leftist of equal talents to play with. Nicknamed the “pop star of hate” by jealous fatties in the media, he was banned from entire continents for his unapologetic commitment to the sound of his own voice.

But it was a voice worth hearing. Architect, chronicler and simultaneously paladin prince heartthrob of countless era-defining public clashes, Milo saw around corners at what was coming next and peered into his enemies’ souls to fathom their weaknesses. Milo conjured “Daddy” for Donald Trump, neatly capturing our national yearning. À propos of nothing, he wondered aloud, “Would you rather your child had feminism… or cancer?” In headlines, he asked coquettishly whether birth control made women “unattractive and crazy.” That last one earned him a dramatic reading from a theatrically wounded Hillary Clinton. An authentic stranger to the male species, she has never understood, or learned to outwit, any man determined to find her ridiculous.

When he was not predicting the future, Milo was writing it, shaping it in his own image. It was Milo who expertly ushered Gamergate into mainstream discourse, leaving feminism with a bloody nose just in time for the election. Milo, single-handedly and overnight, ended the “campus rape culture” hysteria and “gender pay gap” mythology with thunderous victories over grizzling opponents. His first book, Dangerous, sold a quarter of a million copies while the author was blacklisted by every publication in America and banned from social media. This achievement will never be repeated.

Now, as then, Milo writes strictly for his own amusement. These days, Milo ghost-writes bestselling autobiographies for the few media personalities who can afford his monstrous fees… and sustain his interest. You’ve most likely read one of his hobby projects and not known it. Under his own name and those of his appreciative clients, Milo has sold over three million books since 2016—but he’s not counting, because it’s gauche, and tiring, and interfere with his other chief hobby: A carefully-maintained air of nonchalance keeping time between eruptions of commercial success.

A peerless icon of the modern political milieu, Milo’s championship title as troll-in-chief remains unthreatened even now, after half a decade of unrelenting imitation. He doesn’t care either way. Milo sauntered into premature and absurd retirement as a New York Times-bestselling author, an award-winning reporter, an international cultural and political phenomenon, a free speech martyr, an accomplished serial entrepreneur, a hair icon, and, at least behind closed doors, a penitent.

Lately, events have conspired to ruin this self-indulgent existence. In 2020, Milo’s renewed devotion to the Catholic faith began to liberate him from disorder and lifelong homosexual urges. He began a celibate life--initially, in melancholic resignation, quickly thereafter struck dumb by the rejuvenating effect of rejecting sin. And then something reared its head that Milo had not anticipated: A burgeoning sense of moral duty within. And just like that, our hero finally got over himself. Inspired to give back after a lifetime of privilege and unfair genetic advantage, Milo is opening a conversion therapy clinic for other men plagued by same-sex attraction, into a world that could not be any more doubting or hostile.