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OpinionWarwick Davis Is a National Treasure - I surrender to the unending river of history
My Formal Notice of Surrender:
A delusional schizoid once said that to fuck around is human, and to find out is divine. I have fucked around and now I must find out. I made increasingly bold claims that Kier Starmer (Peace Be Upon Him) will never be clawed from power, because he is a soulless husk that exists purely to 1) Have gay sex and 2) Further ruin the blighted, cursed, fog shrouded isles that I call home. I was too sure of his ability to ignore everyone calling him a retarded faggot, and too sure of his ability to just refuse to leave office. He has now resigned, likely as a way to avoid the humiliation of having a mincing Mancoonian homosexual limply slapping his face and lisping at him in a leadership contest. The price I must pay is to create a thread lauding the achievements, and abilities of a very famous Midge. Sir Warwick Davis (PBUH). A midget whom I despise and wish to see ripped apart by police dogs.
Introduction:
Warwick Davis has spent more than four decades bringing some of fantasy’s most memorable characters to life. From Wicket and Willow Ufgood to Professor Flitwick, Griphook and the Leprechaun, he has travelled through galaxies far, far away, taught at Hogwarts, adventured across Narnia and become a genuine horror icon. Few performers can claim such an enduring place in so many beloved worlds. Born in Epsom, Surrey, in 1970, Davis was born with spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita, a rare genetic condition affecting bone growth; which I believe should make on eligible for recycling via macerator. His remarkable career began at eleven, when his grandmother heard a radio appeal seeking people under four feet tall for Return of the Jedi. Already an enormous Star Wars fan, Davis applied and was eventually cast as Wicket the Ewok, turning an improbable childhood opportunity into the beginning of a lifelong career. But his legacy extends far beyond the characters he has played. Davis has also become a successful presenter, producer, author, entrepreneur and tireless advocate for people with dwarfism, culminating in a BAFTA Fellowship and an OBE for services to drama and charity. So, in appreciation of an extraordinary career and an apparently thoroughly decent man, here is a celebration of Warwick Davis, his achievements and his ongoing fight against becoming even smaller and even more deformed.
Sir Warwick Davis Addressing His Followers (Colourised)
Tiny Timeline of Terror.
1970: Warwick Ashley (faggot!) Davis is born in Epsom, Surrey, with spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita, a rare skeletal condition, his family mourns.
1982–83: Aged eleven, he answers a radio appeal seeking performers under four feet tall for Return of the Jedi. He is ultimately cast as Wicket W. Warrick, an Ewok. This is his most dignified role to date.
1984–85: Wicket becomes the hero of two television films: Caravan of Courage and Ewoks: The Battle for Endor. Which are both films no one gives a fuck about.
1986: Davis joins the extraordinary creature cast of Jim Henson’s (RIP King) Labyrinth.
1988: At eighteen, he receives his first leading feature-film role as Willow Ufgood in Ron Howard and George Lucas’s Willow. A film which my grandmother showed me once, starting a lifelong fear of the deformed.
1989–90: He plays Reepicheep and Glimfeather in the BBC’s adaptations of C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia. He plays a little itsy bitsy midgey mouse!
1993–2003: Davis plays the murderous Lubdan in six Leprechaun films, establishing himself as a horror icon. This is also Jennifer Anniston's first feature film and the Leprechaun is completely in the right to want his fucking gold back!
1995: He co-founds Willow Management, representing short and exceptionally tall performers frequently overlooked by conventional agencies. As their first act, the lobby for stools in all casting offices so that midges can stand on them.
1999: He returns to Star Wars in The Phantom Menace, playing several characters, including Weazel and Wald. A notable trend for Davis characters is that they often have humiliating names.
2001–11: Davis appears throughout the Harry Potter films as Professor Filius Flitwick and later Griphook. He is not Jewish.
2005: He provides the physical performance for Marvin the Paranoid Android in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Alan Rickman provided the voice, which is the important part.
2008: He enters Narnia again as the suspicious dwarf Nikabrik in Prince Caspian. He is viciously beaten by a small child in this film.
2010: Davis publishes his autobiography, Size Matters Not, with a foreword by George Lucas.
2011–13: He co-creates and stars in Life’s Too Short, playing a magnificently awful fictional version of himself. He plays himself.
2013: He plays Emperor Porridge in the Doctor Who episode “Nightmare in Silver” and appears onstage in Spamalot. Notably part of a truly awful episode where he is once again humiliated by children.
2014–24: Davis becomes a familiar television host through Weekend Escapes, Celebrity Squares and more than 200 episodes of Tenable.
2015–19: He appears in four consecutive Disney-era Star Wars films and voices Rukh in Star Wars Rebels.
2019: He returns as Wicket in The Rise of Skywalker, appearing alongside his son Harrison. The fact that they let him breed is fucked. He's like a human pug.
2022: Thirty-four years after the original film, Davis once again leads the adventure as Willow Ufgood in the Disney+ series Willow. A show that everyone hated, and was reviewed into the floor.
2025–26: Davis receives the BAFTA Fellowship, is made an OBE for services to drama and charity, and is confirmed to return as Flitwick in HBO’s new Harry Potter series. He will likely be further humiliated in his role as a 'gross goblinoid creature' in this show.
Warwick with members of the Reduced Height Theatre Company. (Colourised)
Key Achievements in his Short Life:
Awarded the BAFTA Fellowship in 2025, BAFTA’s highest honour, for his screen career and work challenging prejudice. Despite his work, most people still laugh when they see him waddle past.
Made an OBE in 2026 for services to drama and charity. He actually has done very good work for children born with diseases, I can't even mock this one.
Received an honorary Doctor of Arts from Anglia Ruskin University. I can mock this one, he's got a doctorate in being a faggot.
Co-founded Little People UK with his late wife Samantha, supporting people with dwarfism and their families. His wife died from complications brought about by having tiny baby organs shoved into a mangled, jigsaw puzzle resembling flesh sack.
Co-founded Willow Management, improving professional opportunities for short and exceptionally tall actors. He has to bring in the 6'3 chads to try and police people picking up midge actors and tossing them out the window.
Created the Reduced Height Theatre Company, the first professional theatre company composed entirely of short actors.
Sustained a career spanning childhood stardom, leading roles, character acting, comedy, presenting, producing and advocacy. Mostly famous now for trying to sue 4chan and utterly failing to achieve anything. This will one day launch his single and final role: A snuff film.
Conclusion:
Warwick is a figure that God placed onto the Earth as a way of making humans remain humble. He exists to crawl around the dirt, a figure of mockery and ridicule that should elicit pity and horror in equal measure. Due to the degeneracy and decayed state of our society, he has instead managed to amass great wealth and access to a standard of living that could not be achieved by 99.9% of all humans that have ever lived. His status as a human pug is overlooked by all that say he is brave, talented and kind. He has contributed to charity, spent years of his life helping children with lifelong illnesses and conditions. Thank you for reading, I am drunk.
I see people bitching all the time about how there is nothing to cure and whining that one of the core tenants of Autism Speaks is advocating for research into a cure.
Imagine Doom Eternal's: The Only Thing They Fear is You playing as you are beset by literal hundreds of this creature screeching and demanding you stop laughing every time you see a midget waddling off to pretend they have lives to live
You have no witnesses, no cameras, no mercy to give but this abomination and his ilk beset you like a tidal wave of evil and only by systematically obliterating each and every one in pitched combat can you survive the manlet onslaught and subsequent corruption of your soul.
You clench your fist in preternatural apprehension and smile, thanking God for another chance to prove your faith and swearing to your warrior forefathers you shall not dishonor them as the Warwick's close in, their fetid breath befouling the very air around you.
Death begets death and thus are the wages of sin, you chuckle to yourself as the incomprehensible calamity of your blessed fists meeting midget teeth and bone sound off in the night, a snare drum of impossible carnage.
The sun rises red and the army of sin has been defeated, your place in the highest Heavens anointed by the blood of goblins soaking the field before you.
God smiles
Imagine being Warwick Davis. You win a lawsuit against the internet for $14 million dollars and then the day comes for you to collect your check at the bank. You roll into the establishment like a wretched demonic acorn fallen from a corpse tree blooming in the depths of hell, and the banker sneers at you from behind his desk with well-justified disgust born of ancient genetic memory. He looks down upon you like a colossus in the vast distance, his hurricane breathing tossing you about like a dog toy. Undeterred, you board your hasty chariot made of an old matchstick box drawn by two centipedes and whip them into action with a string of dental floss. The noble steeds prove fast and unwieldy, you'll have to use your settlement money to replace them. After reaching the edges of the rich mahogany, you swallow hard knowing the immense task before you scaling such an incredible height. With sewing needles in hand, you begin the arduous eight-hour mountain climb up the side of the desk, stopping only for rest and a high-calorie nutrient feast of a single sesame seed. Along the way you are nearly crushed to death when a tumbling cascade of dust motes screeches by. But finally, after defying all the odds, you reach the summit. The banker detects your presence with the aid of an electron microscope. "Congratulations on your victory, Mr. Davis" he says, with the bile surging in the back of his throat. He writes you a check and drops it upon you, but the paper is like a comet sent by heaven. Instead of being smashed by the immeasurable weight however you are absorbed into the valence shell of a hydrogen atom. It must suck to be a midge.
That Little People Big World couple are both midgets, and of their four children, only one is also a midget. That midget son married a normal-sized woman, and all three of their kids are midgets. Warwick Davis and his late wife are/were both midgets, and so are their chldren. So
Absolutely wrong as I remember and still rewatch them even today. And I am absolutely somebody, just look at all my reddit karma Positive KiwiFarms Reaction Score!
Bungie dropping him for Nolan of a Thousand Voices to play Ghost in Taken King and onwards was one of the best casting choices they ever made aside from Downes as MC and Reddick as Zavala.
The 4chan copypasta is very funny, but his over the top reaction, elevates it 24 carrot grade hilarity.
I'm picturing him waking up in a cold sweat, having night terrors of blank faced men feeding him baby formula and forcing him to fight other midges to the death.
The 4chan copypasta is very funny, but his over the top reaction, elevates it 24 carrot grade hilarity.
I'm picturing him waking up in a cold sweat, having night terrors of blank faced men feeding him baby formula and forcing him to fight other midges to the death.
I'm just trying to imagine what sort of janitorial work is even appropriate for a creature like him. Perhaps they could hire him on as a replacement rag whenever it comes time to mop up a thread.
I worked with a guy that would sniff ether. Not even subtle either, he would just wander over and be like "Oh! What's this? Oh it smells...it smells like...." then he'd clearly fucking huff it.
I had a Latin teacher one year who was a cough syrup drunk. He was great, he'd just randomly wander out of class to the classics office and come back smelling like cherries. He would tell us endlessly that he had gone to night school for a decade to become a lawyer. He had less-than-zero charisma or any air of competence. I can't imagine anyone using him as a lawyer, and he notably had no stories about any actual practice of law.
