Doctor Curt Vile was born in 1888 during The Purges, a series of anti-pagan witch-hunts that swept across Wiltshire and Somerset. According to eyewitness reports, his mother, Ms Ginda Vile, died during childbirth, due to the fact the midwife was too busy "associating" with Curt’s father, the mad priest Father Christopher Lamarck. Lamarck cut Curt from the womb with his own penknife, and was heard to remark, "Lo, I have delivered the deliverer." Before it could be asked what Lamarck meant by this, he was killed by a bolt of lightning.

Vile was raised and studied under Professor Abraham Clarke, an associate of Lamarck’s. At age 15 he built a Tesla coil in his front garden, and at age 17 he claimed to have designed "a weapon of such might fit for Gods, harnessing Dewar’s liquefied hydrogene (sic) for offensive purposes." He tested the device on his 20th birthday near the Podkamennaya Tunguska River in Russia and was instantly vaporised.

Vile was next heard of in 1922, where he appeared to a congregation in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. When asked how it was he was walking around after being reduced to atoms, he was heard to reply, "Don’t ask such stupid questions." He earned a doctorate in "Vileness" at the University of Paris in 1927, and soon after regained notoriety as a public speaker: he was known to have a beautiful voice for elocution, owing much to the tutelage of Clarke. His speeches, however, were indecipherable gibberish, even to linguists and anthropologists who would come to hear him speak.

Vile was forced to leave Paris in 1929 after losing a duel to the Count of St Germain, and went to live in the United States. Here he was the subject of several obscenity trials after distributing "material that lives up to the defendant’s apt surname," according to a New York District Attorney. He ran a small laboratory, dedicated to the purpose of completing the first rodent/human brain transplant.

Doctor Vile was killed once more after succumbing to a massive electric shock sustained whilst grafting a hamster onto the genitalia of a local male prostitute. However, it was discovered that shocks of a similar voltage delivered to certain areas of Vile’s brain could stimulate his hand into writing all sorts of filthy and prophetic material, much of which is printed below with the permission of Doctor Vile’s estate.

In 1955, students at NYU accidentally spilled a bottle of Jack Daniel’s onto Vile’s brain. The Doctor was immediately resuscitated, and spent the rest of the year hanging out with the Beat writers. He soon fell out with them, labelling them "establishment cronies," and lived out the decade as the superhero Vile Man. His alter ego was that of a foul-mannered curmudgeon, constantly bashing the famous scientists of the day for not giving him credit for his ideas. During this time he labelled the Hiroshima bombing "an act of unspeakable plagiarism," and the Holocaust "a missed opportunity," despite his own Jewish heritage.

Vile retired as Vile Man in 1961 after it was pointed out to him that he cared not a jot about truth or justice. He was less gracious in defeat in 1966, when a West Virginia vicar debated with him about divine providence being evident in the evolution of all living things. As his way of a retort and a practical joke, he spliced moth and human DNA together to create a hideous hybrid creature. After loosing the Mothman on an unsuspecting populace, he defected to the Soviet Union where he worked with the Russian scientist Vladimir Demikhov.

In 1974 he returned to his home country of England, and retired in the city of Liverpool. He spent the 80s writing and distributing obscene lies about more or less everyone in parliament, claiming Thatcher was the result of his own experimentation into the field of "replacing feminine hormones with my own semen." Further opinions on 20th century figures are to be found in Vile’s collection of letters, published by Puffin in 2006. In the letters, written mainly to himself, he describes Mohandas Gandhi as a "horrible little toe-rag," Ronald Reagan as "a wonderful leader of men… my Fuhrer," and Mother Teresa as a "wrinkled bag of organs, and a crap shag."

Vile resides on the Wirral peninsula today, largely as a recluse. Those who have seen him have remarked he has remarkable vitality for a man of his age and hunched back. He is said to stalk the wine bars of Hoylake and West Kirby by day and haunt the moors and fields of the Wirral by night, occasionally leaping out at unsuspecting youths and challenging them with riddles.