Too many mirrorballs

The ceiling of the Viaduct Showbar is peppered with mirrorballs; the first time I went there, I tried to count them but gave up when I reached seventeen. Perhaps they are like the Rollright Stones, and impossible to count; if you go round them and reach the same number three times, you will die from sheer pleasure. Or perhaps they represent the number of virgins that will be delivered to the faithful in the afterlife as a reward for martyrdom. The Telegraph reports that Isil Jihadist fighters are terrified that they will be killed in action by female soldiers, which would leave them in Paradise without the promised seventy-two virgins. Perhaps we could start spreading rumours that after having enjoyed the delights of one (or more) of these nubile lovelies, the deceased warrior wakes up the following morning to find himself transformed into a young girl, locked in a gorgeously-appointed chamber and waiting to be delivered to some decrepit overweight martyr…



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