It is 06.30 in the morning and a single figure is walking the halls of a very large building. He walks outside into the garden and gazes wistfully at the roof, before shaking his head sadly and walking over to a pool. He removes his dressing gown to reveal that he is wearing only a pair of swimming shorts with the cross of St Andrew on them. He climbs into the swimming pool and begins to pace around the perimeter, every now and then casting a longing glance at the roof. He then notices a furtive figure wrapped in a duvet sitting close to the pool watching him.
“Hello there, are you one of the new guys from Ward 10? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
The furtive figure replies “Nah, I haven’t been there yet. I’m just having some me time.” He sits up straight in his duvet and a tearing sound, like sticky paper, can be heard. “I’m Marcus. Who the f**k are you and where the f**k am I.”
“I’m Sandy from Ward 3. And as to where you are no-one knows for sure. Some of the more intelligent amongst us (and believe me that is a very relative concept) seem to think this is some sort of limbo, where a portion of our souls has been sent in penance for some unforgivable sin we committed in our lives. All we know is that with your Ward just opening we now number 166.”
“But how the f**k did I get here?”
“Again no-one knows. It started about ten years ago with the 11 from Ward 1. They’ve been here for 10 years now. They were basically normal people when they arrived, but after 10 years here they are now completely irredeemable. They will never be able to function in the outside world again. The poor souls from Ward 2 are getting that way as well. I’m from Ward 3.” He pauses. “Do you know I’ve been stuck in the same barracks as Jonny and Jade for 8 years now?” His eyes seem to cloud over with tears and reveal a deep sadness that no-one else can truly comprehend. But he quickly recovers. “Anyway Ward 4 followed us a year later, but nothing much really happened here. Then ….” He gulps “Then Ward 5 opened and everything changed. The whole place was laid to waste within two weeks. It was chaos. But just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse Ward 6 opened.”
Sandy walks over to Marcus and talks to him in deadly earnest. “Don’t mess with anyone in Ward 6. And please I beg you don’t ever, ever leave any bottles lying around. Oh god. What one of those maniacs does with bottles. Poor Cameron from Ward 4 was reduced to tears, whispering something about Soddom and Gommorah.”
Marcus, despite himself, is listening with increasing horror.
“After Ward 6 we waited another year then Ward 7 opened. That’s where the real basket cases are. The less said about Ward 8 the better, although there is one who must be obeyed and whose name I cannot even say. She lives on Ward 8. And finally there is Ward 9. They are OK I guess but just don’t f**k with their artwork.”
Marcus is staring open mouthed. “But how can I leave?”
Sandy laughs “Leave! Leave! Oh my dear child you can never leave. Don’t you think I’ve tried? Don’t you think we’ve all tried?” Again Sandy stares longingly at the roof. “We’ve tried tunnelling out, climbing the walls, breaking down the doors, smashing the mirrors with battering rams but nothing works. The director just finds us and drags us back.”
“Who’s ‘The Director’?”
“Again no-one knows. He is like the voice of god. He comes out of nowhere and we all tremble at his announcements. From now on my friend the director owns your life”.
Their conversation is interrupted by a commotion from the kitchen area at the other side of the garden
“What the f**k was that?” asks Marcus.
“If were lucky,” replies Sandy, “it’s a major earthquake.”
“And if we’re unlucky? ….”
“If were unlucky my friend, then the chefs are up and cooking breakfast” …….
Next episode : Meet the chefs
“Hello there, are you one of the new guys from Ward 10? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
The furtive figure replies “Nah, I haven’t been there yet. I’m just having some me time.” He sits up straight in his duvet and a tearing sound, like sticky paper, can be heard. “I’m Marcus. Who the f**k are you and where the f**k am I.”
“I’m Sandy from Ward 3. And as to where you are no-one knows for sure. Some of the more intelligent amongst us (and believe me that is a very relative concept) seem to think this is some sort of limbo, where a portion of our souls has been sent in penance for some unforgivable sin we committed in our lives. All we know is that with your Ward just opening we now number 166.”
“But how the f**k did I get here?”
“Again no-one knows. It started about ten years ago with the 11 from Ward 1. They’ve been here for 10 years now. They were basically normal people when they arrived, but after 10 years here they are now completely irredeemable. They will never be able to function in the outside world again. The poor souls from Ward 2 are getting that way as well. I’m from Ward 3.” He pauses. “Do you know I’ve been stuck in the same barracks as Jonny and Jade for 8 years now?” His eyes seem to cloud over with tears and reveal a deep sadness that no-one else can truly comprehend. But he quickly recovers. “Anyway Ward 4 followed us a year later, but nothing much really happened here. Then ….” He gulps “Then Ward 5 opened and everything changed. The whole place was laid to waste within two weeks. It was chaos. But just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse Ward 6 opened.”
Sandy walks over to Marcus and talks to him in deadly earnest. “Don’t mess with anyone in Ward 6. And please I beg you don’t ever, ever leave any bottles lying around. Oh god. What one of those maniacs does with bottles. Poor Cameron from Ward 4 was reduced to tears, whispering something about Soddom and Gommorah.”
Marcus, despite himself, is listening with increasing horror.
“After Ward 6 we waited another year then Ward 7 opened. That’s where the real basket cases are. The less said about Ward 8 the better, although there is one who must be obeyed and whose name I cannot even say. She lives on Ward 8. And finally there is Ward 9. They are OK I guess but just don’t f**k with their artwork.”
Marcus is staring open mouthed. “But how can I leave?”
Sandy laughs “Leave! Leave! Oh my dear child you can never leave. Don’t you think I’ve tried? Don’t you think we’ve all tried?” Again Sandy stares longingly at the roof. “We’ve tried tunnelling out, climbing the walls, breaking down the doors, smashing the mirrors with battering rams but nothing works. The director just finds us and drags us back.”
“Who’s ‘The Director’?”
“Again no-one knows. He is like the voice of god. He comes out of nowhere and we all tremble at his announcements. From now on my friend the director owns your life”.
Their conversation is interrupted by a commotion from the kitchen area at the other side of the garden
“What the f**k was that?” asks Marcus.
“If were lucky,” replies Sandy, “it’s a major earthquake.”
“And if we’re unlucky? ….”
“If were unlucky my friend, then the chefs are up and cooking breakfast” …….
Next episode : Meet the chefs







] of Ward 8 to take on an even more surreal and sinister edge than I recall... Maybe revolt against She Who Will Be Obeyed is nigh... I suspect the air will be filled with the waft of long-boiled vegetables though, whether Rex likes it or not.