Sex dungeon? Pfft. That's all I ever hear!
That's just a nice, normal, entirely respectable torture chamber partly converted into Pa James's home gym.
Only partly converted you understand, as more would ruin the period detail, and Ma and Pa are very keen on period detail.
What's the matter with you lot? Don't the mansions where you live have rooms ringing with the screams of ages past?
And you call yerselves a civilisation.
If I visited an estate and it didn't have a similar subterranean spot, then that's when I'd worry. Obviously the owner must be up to something.
Where's the sex in that dungeon? Which object supplies the sex and, if removed, would cleanse it of the sex?
It's time for T.A.P.'s Tour:
Yeah, you could have separate targets for different projectiles, but why waste the space when one will do the job of many?
Darts, arrows, axes, spears, knives, bullets, severed heads, this baby takes 'em.
I suppose you want you know why the figure is so big. Well there are many theories.
A. What's the use in it being life size? There's no fun there. It'd barely cover the bullseye.
B. It's a dungeon! It's got to at least have an imposing atmosphere. You don't want prisoners pointing and laughing at your stuff when it's intended to be a place of terror.
C. Pa was getting sick to the back teeth of poachers pilfering his coy Karp, so he set about shooting the chancers.
He wanted James to be as vigilant, so started passing on his skills once the boy progressed from 'skeet'. You need a large target for a beginner.
That arrow to the kidneys was James's final shot before he was off.
Pa looks on it with pride frequently, wiping away a manly tear.
D. When you buy a photo frame there will sometimes be a staged picture inside, to give you an idea of your own images on display.
It'll be a glamorous beach scene of a laughing family, because they ain't selling you the frame, they're selling you the dream.
It's the same with massive dartboards. Helping you imagine victims affixed to it adds to its desirability.
Pa leaving it there is the equivalent of not unwrapping the cellophane. He wants it in mint condition for when James comes home.
Conversely, rumour has it that it's no mannequin, but rather a preserved corpse.
A. I'll have you know that's not any old mummy. That's the brother of the King of France, A.K.A. The Man In The Iron Mask.
When he died of 'natural causes' (no polyester to an arrow) they couldn't just sling him in a pauper's grave. He's a prince, man!
Nor could he be admitted to the royal crypt, not when he does not officially exist.
Obviously the only alternative was to strap him to a target, bandaged excessively for fear any ghoulish snooper may learn the truth.
This came into Pa's hands via auction, and he didn't like to ask questions.
B. People who hunt mount their prey on the walls. Pa is no exception. Ma wouldn't have it in the drawing room, and it can't go in the attic as that's where the servants live.
Pa don't shoot animals, only woodwosies.
C. It was handed down from Pa Pa James, and his pa before him, and his pa before that. Who it actually is therefore lost to the mists of time.
Maybe Pa ought to have dumped it by now, but passing it to the heir is tradition, and tradition is what separates us from the monkeys.
D. Ma was a very desirable maiden, and back when Pa was a-courting, he had a rival, worryingly preferred by Ma Ma James and Pa Ma James, but not Ma, thank God. She knew he was a wrong 'un. Wonky eye you see.
Luckily he disappeared in mysterious circumstances, leaving the path to True Love uncluttered.
That's what you get if you try to snatch Ma's hand in marriage!
The outer building is eighteenth century, but the bones of the abode date back far further, hence the somewhat mediæval millieu.
From the Good Old Days when the Norman baron looked down cackling as impudent Saxon serfs were taught a thing or two.
Pa is broader than his son, and he owes it all to his daily weight-lifting routine on this rather Spartan apparatus.
You can't have weights piled up in view. It makes the place look untidy.
This is where Pa keeps his neatly stacked, alongside dartboard ammunition and his silky boxing gear.
Ever since those quivering ninnies in Westminster banned the perfectly harmless past time of duelling to the death, gentlemen have needed to find other solutions to disagreements.
Boxing is the ideal replacement. It's a proud day when a lad is first asked to 'step outside' for he and his opponent to 'settle things like men'.
Care of course must be taken that ladies are not present, for they will become overexcited by the spectacle, and may even join the frey. This is to be discouraged, for blunt objects will then be introduced, as that's how it is with them.
This explains why girly sports (rounders, hockey and lacrosse) feature implements, because girls like to get hold of something, and girls fight dirtily.
You couldn't see much action from that angle, so I expect this is a storage region, to where certain features such as the iron maiden were moved to accommodate Pa's gym equipment.
Inheritance: it's not all glamour.
Along with the Old Bastard's Old Masters and the tax bill, you'll end up with sweet pieces of warfare from your long bloodline of warriors. I'm sure there's a very humorous story about the skulls this cracked during the Hundred Years War.
They're not small, they're just far away.
Hey, you'd be soft, saggy and misshapen if you got whacked in the face every day. A boxing man needs replacements at hand when his old bag is wore out from all that hard lovin'.
Another proud weapon from the Glory Days. Can also be utilised to sway menacingly over shackled inmates for a classic lingering death.
Portable variants are also available.
Pa can't be seen running outside by his inferiors, as he'd lose their trembling respect. He thus confines his cross-country pursuits to racing up, down and across this metal contraption.
Not sure why it has teeth.
The bane of every childhood. Who hasn't been forced to scale it's suede dome at one point?
Those spare parts aren't big enough to fit the base, but number one is already in place.
It's driving me mad with confusion!
A jumping man awakens primæval twinges in Woman.
He shall father the children.
Tackling a stile demeans every fool who tries. Were you instead to leap over its devilish design, you would gain the admiration of all dwelling within fifteen miles.
Pa has mastered the skill, and having honed it through dedicated practice, can now back flip on to the mantlepiece.
Paper towels are invaluable to a household for their way with spillages. Pa wipes his hot brow before his post-workout bath, and lays a few sheets across his lap when enjoying a ploughman's lunch to avoid grease on his trousers.
14. Wipe-Clean Chaise Longue
A rest between exercises is vital to prevent strain.
I note there appears to be an inbuilt lamp, so unusually for furniture it's plugged in to the mains, even if it shines on the feet part.
Its presence gives me the idea that Pa may also use this unlikely space as a study.
Not his main study, but it's good to have everything at hand.
When he wishes to get away from it all, a working-class man of a certain vintage goes to The Shed.
Pa can't do that, for 'tis beneath him.
Not only does his shed contain the head gardener, but it resembles Brighton Pavilion. A true hermit's shed must be a depressing, dilapidated sight to evoke the nobly pathetic state of the fella within.
When he wishes to get away from it all, a younger, richer, gadget-fixated, rather emasculated man goes to the 'man cave'.
Pa can't do that either, because he's not a berk.
Ma and Pa always planned that once James and Jessibelle were wed, they'd come over on certain evenings. After puddings the Ladies would fall into discussion about Ladies' Things such as lace doilies, kittens in bonnets and various models of corsetry. The Men meanwhile would withdraw for billiards and discussion of Men's Things such as the stock market, Stevenson's Rocket and Isambard Kingdom Brunel.
Well that didn't come to pass. Jessibelle still visits, but you can't make a four for bridge with only three.
With whom is Pa meant to converse in that situation? No billiards!
Being around the girls just reminds him of James's absence, so he goes for a lie down, with all amenities on tap.
Proximity to the aforesaid suggests to me that this is where Pa keeps his tastiest treats for when he's confined down here, such as Wagon Wheels, Jammy Dodgers, Party Rings and Milky Ways.
Is it meant to be that way up?
What are the ridges for, and the raised part, and the control panel?
Hang on, wasn't there a treadmill? What happened to that?
Is it evil, so becomes an inanimate purple werewolf treadmill when exposed to people?
It's the only explanation.
Specifically paraffin. It's not going to be crude oil is it now?
I'm judging by the chandelier that it's been converted to take candle-shaped light bulbs, so electricity runs through most of the house.
Not the dungeon. They don't want it all lit and cosy when enemies require intimidating. What kind of wet, touchy-feely behaviour do you expect?
Dark is the only language they understand.
However, some light is necessary for gloaters and employed torturers to go about their business, as well as in case of power cuts, and here is the fuel for antique lamps.
Public school boys are infamous for their mischievous ways, and Pa was no exception. There was nothing he liked better than sticking a bobble hat on a statue or frightening his housemaster with a rubber spider.
This he stole from a builder's yard. Ma feels it doesn't really fit the setting, but Pa wanted to make his mark on the family torture chamber. As he told her, you can never have too many tools of pain, just in case.
19. Fold-Up Ping-Pong Table
Not been full length much since Pa lost James as a competitor.
He tries to persuade Ma to have a game, but she only glares at him, asking if that's the best thing he can think for them to do together.
Pa consequently forgets about ping pong.
Women also love a climbing man. If you can scale a wall, you'll never want in that department. There's no scrape that can't be improved or even completely conquered with a bit of climbing.
I trust I have now cleared Ma and Pa of these foul calumnies.
The real question is what's illuminating the room.
Remember the candlestick on the table upstairs?
It's the same one Jessibelle's got.
They thought of everything!
Yet when they arrive she hasn't got it anymore!
What happened to the candlestick?
She must've left on an unseen shelf, knowing the torture chamber would provide sufficiently.
Oh no, you've left the lights on! You'll kick yourself when the bill arrives!
Sure enough, the dungeon is so bright it blinds Jessie and Meowth to what awaits.
But there's no bloody light source in there!
