Week Three, Day One : Back in the Jug Agane

Balls. He stitched us up like a kipper, make no mistake. Minutes after Lithgow had gone troppo they were round us like flies on a fish supper. Müller was flapping his arms about & barking orders in Dutch for some reason & before you knew it I was bundled into the back of a milkfloat & driven at low speed back to 'Parcs' & the infernal gates of MDF Block, Hut 616. Madden fared slightly better : The endless Keep Fit regime she has imposed on herself allowed her a good five minute start on our oppressors, although they finally caught up with her at The Village stroking a cat. You can take the girl out of Oxford...

Few have left MDF alive. It is a barren, bitter place populated by the unloved & some deluded Australians who believe they are on holiday. Lost souls wander about unsupervised clutching recycling & begging directions to Aquatique or the Dog Exercise Area, their spindly bodies ravaged by exercise, all hopes dashed, life now only a vehicle that will take them on to their maker. It is also located directly in front of the Watersports Lake: I rest my case. 

We spent the weekend spreadeagled in Interrogation. I kept my head & said nothing but I'm not sure about Madden. She disappears for up to half an hour at a time throughout the day & I note with some alarm that she gets extra cheese at lunch. Perry reappeared this morning a broken man. They have thrown him in with us once more but I doubt he'll have the appetite for another attempt. The dogs caught up with him in Gloucestershire before he could reach his family & as of yet he has not uttered a single word. And now I must sleep. Tomorrow we're making lampshades apparently : Must be breaking us in gently..