Frankenstein in Ireland
By ice rivers
My name is Mr. Kerwin. I'm the town magistrate. I'll be conducting your interrogation. Wolf and Zyfrklt are our very capable torturers and they'll be with you shortly.
I understand that up until a few hours ago, you thought you were in Scotland but let me assure you that you have sleep floated into Ireland.
Now all of our torturers speak only Gaelic so you can rest assured that any of your hallucinations, confessions, pleadings, sheiks or deliriums will not be 'understood' unless I happen to be in your presence and frankly I've got a lot on my plate. Believe me it's not easy running a three room dungeon in a town full of alcoholic, belligerent Irishmen.
We understand that you have wealthy connections in Geneva. While we try to make contact with the, we plan on setting you up in the best cell in our dungeon. Won't you come with me on a little tour?
The first room we come to is where Wolf and Zyfrklt are now 'working' diligently. I can tell they are hard at work from the screaming, thudding and swearing that if you listen for just one second, you can probably hear.
This is the room we use for short term occupancy. We try to help our prisoners focus on their own pain and forget the lies they've been telling us. We can usually convert a healthy, self confident criminal into a babbling, groveling, agony ridden non-entity in about a day or two largely depending upon how Zyfrklt is getting along with his wife Big Jane. Zyfrklt got drunk and had to sleep in the pigsty last night, for example, so an awful lot has been accomplished today.
If you were to be in here, even if you weren't hanging by your hair or upside down over a pile of dogs hit, I'm certain you would be quite distracted by all the smashing, thudding and subsequent pleading and dealmaking and oath taking which fills the room. Furthermore, a certain despicable breed of toad, apparently attracted by the could odor of the place as well as a taste for dung beetles, has decided to use this hellhole as a fitting site for reproduction. Everywhere you look, you will observe toad knots undulating around in amphibious orgasmic ecstasy and croaking pitifully until until Wolf or Zyfrklt accidentally or on purpose steps on them while dragging a criminal from one device to the next according to their drunken rage. The sound of toad knots being squished under a babbling non-entity makes for a lifetime memory.
Now if you'll excuse me for just a moment, I'm going to check and see if your room is available.
I'll be right back.
Just listen for a couple of minutes and imagine.