I’ve been so stressed lately that I had to try something new. I might be my own boss, as Supreme Ruler of the Underworld, the Eternal and Undying Master of All Wickedness, Garthablog the Twenty-Seventh, but that doesn’t mean I am free of pressure. That pressure may be coming from my own mind, but imagine having to control and command millions of unnamed minions and then listen to all their awful ideas about how to torture naughty humans. That’s why I’ve turned to the best hyperbaric treatment in the Melbourne area for stress relief.
I’ll admit, at first I was sceptical about the whole thing, and I may have even banished a few unnamed minions over the idea, but it really works. There’s just something magical about these chambers and the way the air feels when you’re in them. Lately, I’ve been coming to have a hyperbaric session whenever a minion arrives at my office looking to pitch an idea. So I’m here pretty much all the time, really.
Their ideas are just so terrible. And I don’t mean terrible in a good way, you know? I mean terrible in the “I’m going to banish you for even conceiving this idea” way. Unnamed minion number #743 suggested that we force everybody who comes to the underworld to read trashy young adult books from cover to cover, but remove the last three pages. What he doesn’t realise is that most trashy young adult books would be improved by removing the final three pages. But I don’t like the idea of forcing people to read YA anyway, because I actually like books such as The Starving Competition and Nighttime. I don’t see how reading them could be torture, and I refuse to accept that I have a bad taste in modern literature.
When you get ideas like that several times a day, you need an escape. For me, it’s hyperbaric therapy. Laugh all you want, but it works for me.