Why Does Everyone Have a Dungeon?

I don't have a dungeon. I have a closet in my apartment I don't clean out, I have a kitchen I need to clean instead of write entries. But I do not, and will not ever have, a dungeon! Everyone else in the gods damned world does though! I thought with the modern aspect of society we'd move beyond dungeons. But no, apparently the dungeon builders guild didn't want to be cut out of their profits! I mean I once helped an old lady, she rewarded me with pie, and then tried to throw me into a dungeon. A FREAKING OLD LADY!

Anyway the dungeon I and the bums were tossed into felt more unfinished basement, than proper dungeon (no chains, no torture devices, just a dirt hole with a bunch of smelly bums in it). The rest of them were a lot better off physically than I was (because they hadn't taken a large beating like I had), thankfully my injuries afforded me room from the others and I was not taken when other bums were "selected" to participate in whatever they had kidnapped us all to do. One of my fellow bums had gotten tired of ignoring me and decided to ask what happened.

"I got the crap kicked out of me, that's what happened." Everytime I moved something hurt, this is usually a bad sign. I was sobering up, which was nice, and painful at the same time.

"What did you do?"

"Mouthed off, why what did you do to get brought here?"

"They were asking for volunteers, figured this couldn't be worse than the street, I guess I figured wrong." We hadn't seen the bums that had been taken, but I assumed as did the ones remaining, they were either dead or wishing they were dead.

"Who is the guy running this?"

"Some kind of doctor, he looked like a doctor, didn't you see him?"

"Nah I got hit pretty hard, only thing I saw was black and pain." The bum was about to say something else when one of the punks who had been involved in my beating shouted at us to stop talking and so seeing the sorry state I was in, he did probably out of fear (can't blame him I looked terrible). And so the parade of the damned continued, eventually it was just me in the dirt hole, I think it had been about a week since I'd been kidnapped, but it was dark down there and I didn't bring a watch. I tell you its one of the worst recovery's from a beating I'd ever had, because not only was the ground crap to sleep on, but since I'd been drinking pretty heavily for a while, not drinking was physically painful. I'm sure there was some horrible science to it, but needless to say when it came my time to get carted off I was in a pretty awful places. And not just because I was in a dungeon.