Life At The Moorview Institute, Chapter Three

Written by Throckmorton Turdblossom

Wednesday, 20 January 2010


The story you are trying to access may cause offense, may be in poor taste, or may contain subject matter of a graphic nature. This story was written as a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

If you wish to back out now, please click here to go back to the home page.

image for Life At The Moorview Institute, Chapter Three

Life At The Moorview Institute
Chapter Three

Chapter Two

Maybe I should start this little section of my memoir out by telling you about my day.

I'm kind of an early riser, so I get up about 5:00 a.m. and head for the showers. If you go that early in the morning, there's always hot water (and you don't always get that pleasure if you get up like everyone else between 7:00 and 8:00).

Anyway, I live in the G-wing. That's where we have private rooms and our doors can be locked from the inside also. We're the folks who are considered safe to ourselves and others and we have the keys to our own doors. I've got a corner room at the far end of the hall from the main hub, so I have windows in my room with Southern and Eastern exposure.

Maybe having that sunrise in my room every morning is what helps me wake up early.

The whole place is set up like a giant wagon wheel, with a central hub and a bunch of spokes. Some of the spokes have parts of the wheel at the other end that have a connecting rim, and some don't. My e-wing just kind of pokes out there by itself.

Some of the wings have one floor, some have two, and a few have three or four. The hub is actually four stories high; five if you include the basement (only some of the 1940's construction has basements). There's no pattern to what area gets how many stories; I guess it all depends on how old the wing is and how much money they had when they built it.

There are forty different rooms in my G-wing, twenty on each side, and we're one of the only one-story wings. I think that's because the outside basketball and volleyball courts are on the roof of our building. It makes things noisy in the daytime, but it's really quiet at night.

Anyway, I get up in the morning, grab my toiletries and some clean clothes, and walk down the hallway to the Hub. There's a guard on duty at the end of the wing; five days a week it's Luther. He's an old black man who pretty much leaves us alone. If I can't sleep, I'll walk down and we'll play cards or checkers or something to pass the time.

Anyway, after getting to the Hub, I turn left and go back to the "C" wing and the showers. I'll shower, shave, and such and head back to my room to drop off my things..

If it's Monday, I'll take my dirty clothes to the laundry (upstairs in "C" for the patients who have their own clothes) and beat the lines. Every other day, though, I go up to the third floor of the Hub and watch the news in the security office with a few of the guards until they start serving breakfast.

Mr. Boswell E. Krebs, Esquire, is the cook in these parts. Some say he got his chef training making mud pies in a playground, while others think it was mail order. All I know is that he likes to experiment with the food.

The only times Bos isn't drunk (vanilla extract or Nyquil) is at breakfast time, and he does make a mean cinnamon roll (unless he's experimenting and putting wierd stuff in them again).

He's also about the only person who's been here longer than I have. Some say he's really an inmate that escaped into the kitchens. I don't know, because he's been cooking (in the kitchen and with some of the nurses) as long as I've been here.

Personally, I think that he's an old army mess sergeant from the Korean War with no sense of taste and a love of "poontang."

After breakfast, I start my work (unless it's Saturday or Sunday). I begin in the "A" wing and start sweeping. This is where they have the receiving sections for the new folks and the visitors section. The only real offices here are for the temporary folks or the public relations types; the real offices are in the Hub.

I'm just responsible for sweeping all of the halls and common areas; a regular janitorial crew does all of the offices, labs, clinics, treatment rooms, and bathrooms at night when everyone is asleep. I just clean the place during the day; it's my job.

No one gave it to me, I just started doing it myself because I don't like the daytime television too much (except on Saturdays and Sundays during football season). After doing this for a year, someone in the financial office noticed that I wasn't on the "patient" payroll and they started giving me points for stuff from our little concession stand/convenience store.

That was over thirty years ago. I've seen a lot of stuff in that time.

I was there in "A" wing the day that they brought in this woman all covered with mud. While she was sitting in the waiting area with her family, she was getting the couches all dirty and tracking mud everywhere and the people that were with her didn't seem to notice. I didn't care because the waiting area is carpeted, so I don't clean that.

Anyway, this nurse brings her a washcloth and trys to wipe off her face and this woman goes crazy. She goes to the potted plant in the waiting room, dumps it out, dumps out the soda one of the people with her was drinking, and makes more mud. She puts that on the areas that the nurse wiped off.

All the while, she's screaming that they can't make her clean or else the radiation will get her and "they" will find her. I didn't understand who "they" were supposed to be, but I wasn't sure that I wanted "they" to get me either.

She's now been in the women's ward ("b" wing, all four floors) for about twenty five years, and she's still covered with mud. She won't let anyone was it off of her and she uses her points to buy bags of potting soil to make more mud.

She's also one of the royal types and insists that she's the Queen of Earth. Since she's always been covered with dried earth, I can go along with that.

Some of the guards say that she used to be an executive with an oil company and that she lost everything and started going over the edge in the Arab Oil Embargo in the 70's. She still tells folks that they need to buy stock in companies like Texaco or Enco or other things that don't exist any more.

After sweeping out all the floors of "A", I move on to the areas that they let me do in "B". This is a woman's building, so I can't sweep much. When I come through, though, I do have to stop and report to the Mud Queen. I tell her every morning that there are no enemies on the horizon and that the pipelines are still flowing and she's happy. Sometimes, she wants to know if there is an "ass mess" in the restrooms, but I always say that they are clean.

After "B", I move on to "C". This is the area with the showers on the first floor and laundry on the second floor.

We've got a staff that does the wet work, so I just sweep that halls in the laundry area. I can generally also bum some snacks from some of the workers (Millie in laundry is always good for some chocolates).

After "C", it's usually about ten in the morning. I'll take a quick jump to the second floor of the Hub and sweep around old Piebottom's office and the treatment room that he uses. After sweeping it, I'll make sure that I spray some lysol on his door handles and in the area in front of the door.

The doctor (his real name is Lippshitz, but we call him Piebottom because of the size of his ass) is usually coming in when I'm doing this, and always gives me a smile and tells me what a nice job I'm doing. Sometimes, he'll give me one of those little 100 points certificates that he hands out to the patients (inmates, nutjobs, loonies,...or whatever you want to call us).

I don't do this because he's the boss or anything or even for the free points... I do this because Piebottoms a germaphobe and hates the little nasties.

No, that's not really the reason either....and I don't do it to kiss the doc's ass. I also don't do it because he's the facility's biggest faggot and gets in an ass pat or crotch rub whenever he can.

I really do it because the spray bottle of Lysol that I use to spray on his doorknob each morning hasn't had any kind of bacterial sanitizer in it for about fifteen years. I generally fill it up with a new load of urine every morning just before reaching his doorway.

Serves the bastard right....and the germaphobe walks around with pissy hands every time he touches his doorknob.

When he's had me sweep out or "sanitize" his office, I've also pissed in his chair and all over his desk with my spray bottle.

While I'm on the second floor of the Hub, I go ahead and sweep the whole thing. I then move up the stairs and do the whole Hub (saving the first floor for last, since I don't want to do that one until 4:00 when Eloise Altoids starts the evening shift).

More about Eloise when we sweep her area, but she's a knock-out first year med student with great big hooters and no brains. I swear that if I told that woman I was deflating, I could get her to pump me up!

In the basement of the Hub, we've got our library. There's a lot of books here that are deemed harmless to the inmates and are in no way controversial. In other words, they never get read. They just sit and gather dust and don't get replaced by anything new or current.

Since everyone has to do two hours a week in the library, and is permitted to take a book of choice back to their rooms, there are one or two shelves of popular stuff.

Most of this was snuck in to the library on weekends (the regular librarian's day off) by Herbie, our bus driver. For a fee, he'll put anything you want into the cover of something that looks innocent. He says that he's got all kinds of book binding materials in his garage.

Naturally, Playboy magazine's Arizona issue becomes "Gardening Pussy Willows in Desert Environments." We also have Sports Illustrated magazines, science fiction magazines, mystery magazines, and other "reader friendly" books on this shelf. Since they are popular, the library lady never really looks at them.

Martha Hobbs is our librarian. She's the widow of the Right Reverend Jeremiah Hobbs of the Springfield Evangelical Christian Church of Christ. She is also a retired librarian from the public school system and probably hasn't had any since the day her youngest child was born (he's in his mid thirties).

Mrs. Hobbs carries her Bible everywhere (even to the bathroom) and is always trying to save the souls of the sinners in this facility. I think she's chased the devil from me at least a dozen times.

If I can quote her a Bible verse somewhere in our morning greeting, it makes her happy and she thinks she's won another soul for Jesus.

About ten years ago, I used to try to find ways to sneak her a little booze to maybe get her drunk and loosen her up. I thought that a roll in the stacks with the former preacher's wife might be a new notch on my belt. It never worked as she detected liquor in anything and would never drink it.

Nowadays, I'm thinking that she might be a closet lesbian and after Miss Eloise Altoids herself. I'm kind of pushing that along by getting them to sit together at lunch just to see if they start a friendship.

I usually go to lunch after finishing the library and hope that the food is edible.

After lunch, I'll go start on "D" wing. This is four floors of every kind of pervert you can imagine. We generally refer to it as the Deviant wing. Lowton, the guy who prints the Spoof thing, lives on the second floor.

I can't do any section of that whole wing without getting propositioned at least once per floor.

There's a pair of guards at the entrance to each floor. Most of them are okay, though Gertie is a real Amazon and hasn't ever smiled in 20 years.

She's the only female that willingly enters that wing, but no man would ever touch her. She's 6'8", weighs over 350 pounds, has a face that would scare a blind man, and doesn't have an ounce of fat anywhere on her body.

Gertrude Helmuth was a weightlifter for the Bulgarian Olympic Team back before they had women's weightlifting. She lifted against men and still set a "clean and jerk" record (but don't make a pun about that, as she'll clean your clock, you jerk).

She got across the iron curtain to freedom by approaching a border checkpoint and challenging the guards to remove her papers from her bra. They wouldn't do it and she walked across to freedom. The walls came down a few years later, but her's is still a success story.

In addition to being a guard on the second floor of "D", she also works in the gym as a volunteer teaching weight lifting.

Next to the "D" wing is the "E" wing (of course). That's "E" for estrogen. Some idiot decided that the building right next to the male perverts and rapists should be the one to house the women who are sexually strange. Rooms with window views from "D" to "E" are considered the most desirable by the straights. It's the same thing on "E."

After lunch, I get the rest of the wings (they're pretty easy since it isn't a real job and I only stay a while when I meet someone I want to talk with).

"F" wing houses the gym, the pool, the weight room, and a bunch of other facilities.

"G" is full of different patients with different problems (it's where I live), but also the greatest amount of freedom.

"H" and "I" are just two more wings with different groups of patients.

"J" has an outside entrance for deliveries because it's got the cafeteria and all of the kitchens and food prep areas.

The "K" wing is a bunch of offices, treatment rooms, classrooms (for the med students) and such. There's also an exit to outside from this wing.

"L" wing is the last of the wings. This one is mostly storage on the upper floors, but has offices and treatment rooms on the first floor. Any group that is meeting Herbie and the bus gets together first in "L".

There's a rim that connects everything from "J" around to "A" going around the outside.

Like I said, this whole thing is a big wagon wheel. The only wings that have patients are B, D, E, G, H, and I. B and E have women, and D, G, H, and I house the men.

Yes, there are twice as many male nutcases here as women (though I think that it's the opposite in the real world).

After I finish with my last wing, I rush back to the first floor of the Hub. I want to be there when my young first year med student comes in.

I do this for several reasons:
I'm trying to protect her from the wolves
She's got a great rack and legs that go all the way to an ass that won't quit (yes, she's that good)
I want to fix her up with the Library lady to see if they are carpet munchers (that would let me watch)
Did I mention that I like looking at her?
She's great for a practical joke.

This girl is perfect in the body department, but hasn't got any brains. I think that the only way she got into med school was because the profs needed some eye candy.

I'll usually hang around her until it's 5:00 and time for supper.

Well, that's my day. I do it five times a week.

Any questions?

Go To Chapter Four

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

Do you dream of being a comedy news writer? Click here to be a writer!

Spoof news topics
Go to top
readers are online right now!
Globey, The Spoof's mascot

We use cookies to give you the best experience, this includes cookies from third party websites and advertisers.

Continue ? Find out more