Non Compos Mentis
Non Compos Mentis

Non Compos Mentis

They Say a Pet Looks Like its Owner…

Listen up, berk! I ain’t telling you this ’cause I like you, and I ain’t even doing it for the jink. No, that don’t mean I won’t take it though, leatherhead! I’m telling you this dark ’cause it’s got to be told to someone. We’ve got some of the barmiest and most twisted minds locked away in our Madhouse, and some of ’em maybe don’t deserve to be there. It’s just that they’re prone to fits of…err…violence once in a while, that’s all. Wouldn’t do to have the Lady a-slashing ’em all up now, would it? Or the Hardheads, for that matter.

Their stories’ve got to be told though, cutter, they deserve at least that. Many’s the visionary blood who only saw what they’re preaching ’cause they thought just that little bit ‘different’ from society. Now there’s a concept: sanity. A subjective notion if ever I knew one. Why, compared with some of the barmies I’ve got locked away, I’d say you were almost rational yourself!

Spread their tales around, berk. See if anyone “normal” like yourself can make head or tail of what they stand for, ’cause if you can, you’ve got a whole multiverse out there waiting to hear your vision.”

Here are the barmies I’ve currently got chant about…

Barmies of the Bleakers’ Gatehouse

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