Harnessed thus by those foul arab straps to that disgusting, embarrassing white boner, Herod prowled among us, making his presence felt throughout the gym, even in its most secret, sacred and sequestered places. Ladies, and gentlemen too, learned no matter what they were at, to keep a weather eye for the White Willy, liable as it was at any moment to pop up from nowhere followed promptly by its host, and take a person unawares, and … and … —
White Willy, Herod
At about this time, the gym membership marketing manager – Virgil wearing another hat, and acting in partnership with one of Colloid’s nominee companies, Colloid Sphincter probably – introduced like a differential membership structure strategy tactical reorganisation like, centred around like access to the like hot tub, like. Like henceforth, like the new stratum of like mezzanine membership would like entitle members to like access all facilities except for like the like hot tub like, and like the new stratum of like penthouse membership would like entitle members to like access all facilities end of. —
Mezzanine membership, Penthouse membership
I must confess, I thought that we so-called members were being treated like helots. At this stage, I intervened in the proceedings, and started to organise resistance amongst the disparate interest groups whom I considered the potential collaterals of this revenger’s tragedy – appealing alike to Hermaphrodites and Psorietes and Alph the Unsacred, to ageing Hippus the creepy middle-aged yoga god, to the old men eternally washing their nethers, to the micturators, and to certain of the junior staff - Troys and Kurts and technically self-employed House of Rurik SARL sub-contractors - whom I considered vulnerable to employer-coercion. I freely admit that I did not approach the gorillas and chimpanzees in the basement – except those who also counted as embodiments or avatars of Alph the Unsacred in virtue of their spa-attendance – because so many of them were steroid-users who intimidated me. In a short space, I had assembled some forty co-conspirators. For ease, and because it seemed the droll and ironic and postmodernée thing to do, we dispensed with names, choosing instead numbers between 1 and 41. I chose 31, quite randomly. —
Alph the Unsacred, Psorietes
Late one morning, being distracted by my perusal of the noticeboard where John Virgil’s penthouse-membership prize announcement was pinned, I found myself quite of a sudden transfixed by Herod’s baleful glare. Quoth that accursed man: —
John Virgil
The next issue, arising in relation to the penthouse-membership prizes was the matter of allocating the thirty-nine prizes amongst the forty-one conspirators. In order to address this issue, I devised an algorithm, payment for which was channelled through Colloid Sphincter Management Ltd, in return for my consultancy services being deemed as having been retained by Multinational Services (Local Franchises) Bristol plc. In devising the said algorithm, there are n elements. In the present case, the elements are the members of the set of participants in the conspiracy, thus in the present case n=41. The prize awards proceed by selection, each kth element being selected for award. I determined following consultations with certain invited focus groups that k=3. What was especially serendipitous was that we conspirators had already replaced our names with code numbers. It seemed natural to adapt these to the present case, and so this is exactly what I did. Lastly, ‘circular’ and ‘no-gaps’ principles were axiomatic. That is to say, the first round of penthouse awards went to 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, 27, 30, 33, 36, and 39; whereupon, 40 and 41 passing under the yoke, seeing that this time round the fates did not award either of them penthouse-membership at a mezzanine price, this fell to 1, which as it turned out was Mr Jupiter the urolagnist. And after him 2 and then 4 escaped, 3 having won the very first penthouse award, before the next prize was awarded to 5; and so on. —
Mr Jupiter
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