In the past

If we believe the entertainment industry, (and really why wouldn’t you) at one time every castle in Europe had a fully equipped dungeon. I’m thinking that’s a bit excessive. Every one of the castles had a master. Every group of five master castles had a lord who ruled over them. Get six or seven lord castles together and that’s a kingdom.

Now the king reigned over every castle in that area. So, why would he need his own dungeon? Think of all those chains going unused, but still having to be oiled every day. It’s a waste of assets and labor. No successful captain of industry nowadays would stand for that.

Poor business choices

Think about it: an Iron Maiden takes up a lot of space. If the king or lord outsourced a percentage of his torturing, he could turn the extra space in to a TV room. Or maybe setup a pool table. The possibilities are endless. It wouldn’t be hard. All he’d have to do was sign a deal with castle a couple of streets over. Pay the jailer a nominal fee, and have him torture all the prisoners. It’s called “Full use of Assets” and it’s very big in business.

While we’re on the subject; What if Master Bob had a bigger rack than Lord Frank? Remember, he’s just a Master. That great torture device might be going unused half the time. What a terrible waste of a premium product. The deluxe rack should be moved to a centralized location where as many folks could be tortured as possible.

Then again, if Irving’s tormenter is really good with a rack, all the other racks should be moved to his location. This way all the peasants can get tortured in the same high-quality, and most painful, fashion. Seriously, how would you feel if a couple of prisoners in your tower were overheard to say, “Boy am I ever glad I was arrested in Mussex County. I barely even screamed today. And that was a scream of relief, because the rack finally got the kinks out of my back.”

“I know what you mean. I was in Fairfrump Castle a couple of weeks back and that guy Gus really laid on some pain. I’m planning on being arrested here every week or so just for the health benefits.”

Out-of-the-way places

Here’s another thing; As I understand it, most of those castles were in rural areas where populations are low. There just wouldn’t be enough peasants in the support a large torture chamber. Let alone two or three just a few miles up the road. Jailors would have to round up folks every week or so just to keep their skills from getting soft. Imagine trying to explain that to your suspicious wife.

“No!! Really Martha, I have to go to the dungeon again.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bull. You’re goin’ off with your mates to see your busty blonde barmaid, and drink up half of Welken Town! Mother told me you was no good! And I didn’t listen.”

Yes, torture was big business back then. However, a few consultants would’ve been helpful. A big firm like; Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur could’ve made a killing if they’d only cooperated. Sadly, they were too focused on the wailing prisoners in their own dungeons, and never got together to discuss how to induce louder screams, with less overhead. Just one meeting could’ve made a huge difference. But alas, another missed opportunity.

Modern upgrades

Nowadays, torture has gained a whole new popularity. You can even go to college to become a certified dungeon master. Of course, they don’t use words like dungeon and torture any more. Somewhere back in the 1930’s the advertising firm of Dewey, Lye, and Howe gave the whole industry a face life. Now it’s called Physical Therapy.

Dungeons, oops I mean Wellness Centers, are brightly lit, and the racks have cushions. They’ve fired all the hunchbacks with one eye and very few teeth. The Hunchbacks and Jailors Union #413 just never had the power of the Teamsters. Perhaps if they had underworld backing from the Santacrantanelli family… But who knows? Either way they were all replaced with smart looking young people wearing khaki pants and polo shirts.

You can charge for that

Another amazing advent of the modern age is that these days folks actually pay tons of cash to go to these places and be tortured. It’s amazing, I’ve done it myself. Every time, I twist my back, or sprain my ankle I end up in physical therapy. Think about it, you have a sore shoulder, you head to a doctor to have it checked. The doc x-rays it and tells you, you need PT. You show up at the chamber and the “therapist” starts leaning on your shoulder and moving it around. It’s quite painful.

  Then he smiles at you and says, “You have limited movement.” No Shit Sherlock!! I knew that. That’s why I went to the doctor. Therapists may not have hunchbacks anymore, but they still have a feel for the stupidly obvious. Imagine being tied to the rack and some crater-faced one-eyed dude sticks his face uncomfortably close and asks, “Are you comfortable?” Of course I’m not! I’m chained to the rack!! Who do they think I am Gomez Addams??

 Then, they give you exercises. These are designed so you can torture yourself while at home. How convenient is that? You don’t even have to go to the torture chamber to feel some serious pain. And they tell you to do these two or three times a day. Pain, and more pain, who wouldn’t love that? Everyone! That’s who.

Not sure this is working

My brother recently had a heart attack. He was in the hospital for five days. During which time they put him in Cardiac Therapy. This process is simple. They hooked him up to an EKG, and told him to work out on a stationary bicycle until he felt pain. Does anyone else see the flaws in all this? He went to the hospital because he was feeling pain. They’re supposed to get rid of the pain. Then, the minute it went away, the put him on a machine so as to bring it back. I don’t see this as being a good thing.

Because of my stupidity, I’ve ended up in physical therapy lots of times. I tend to do dangerous things, like running down the stairs, dancing on uneven paths, chasing unicorns through the woods, and twisting my back. Actually, as a true idiot, the art of just moving can be hazardous. Consequently, I’ve become rather friendly with my physical therapist.

Friends in low places

His name is Vinny, and I just know he was trained by the mafia. Once I sprained my knee, wrestling a dragon. (Actually, it was just the dog, but dragon sounds much better, so we’ll go with that.) Vinny was so happy to see me. He wanted to try out a new technique of holding my leg still, and asking me to bend it. The pain was terrible. I screamed bloody murder. His calm reaction was a simple, “Huh. I guess you’re not ready for that yet.”

I answered with a sarcastic…

Whatever gave you that idea?!?!