Today I was taken to get a meal. It was displeasurable. My god, I hope you're ready.

After ordering from a menu that seemed to be, all at once, stained with blood, semen, pus, tears and the souls of dead babies, the waiting game began. It was a lengthy battle, spanning over an hour. In the time I wasn't juggling cutlery in the hope that I'd either kill myself, escaping this torment (which is unlikely as judging by the age of some of the others there it seems the building traps your eternal soul in an amusementless void of pain and torment, leaving you to experience every waking moment of agonising boredom), or hoping that the flying knives and forks would impale another diner, forcing staff to forcibly remove me, I decided to do some peoplwatching.

At 11:30 (the direction, not the time, you cretins), was a set of what can only be described as the lesbian equivalent of Pinky and The Brain. Pinky was one of those lesbians who are attractive, and someone you'd be seen with in public if you knew them. Brain was the stereotypical dyke; a lumbering hambeast of Godzilla-like proportions, devouring Godzilla-like portions of god knows whatever shitchunks were put before her. I assume that's why the food took so long to arrive at my own table - the people doing the cooking were terrified that should they be unable to provide enough food for this mountainous bitch, she would devour her companion, and subsequently everyone else in the vicinity.

At another table, around 1 I'd estimate (again, direction, not time), was a rather average-looking couple. A fat woman and a fat bloke, both looking fresh from their menial, minimum-wage "jobs". I paid little notice to them, not wanting to even associate with them visually, until they were joined by another couple. This third couple consisted of another average-looking bloke, accompanied by his manwife, a Thai ladyboy who he must have paid in excess of thirty pence for his confused, sucky-sucky-five-dorrah, manjuice-stained hand in civil partnership.

The food itself was quite good, especially considering the place from whence it was spawned can only be described using ancient, long-forgotten words that I can only assume would be found only in the most horrifying and twisted chapters of the Necrominon.

Today I ventured into the lowest level of the Thirteen Hells.
They do pretty good chicken.