The Holistic Voluntary Wellness Self Euthanasia Care Space

 'I wonder if I can somehow remove my third eye', thought Dave.  'I don't think I can cope with being in a permanent state of enlightenment.  I feel I need some Valium or something.  Something to bring me down...'

'Dave!  What are you doing out there!  Get those logs chopped right now,  the mobile sauna needs topping up, my hot stones are going cold and I've run out of kindling.   And haven't you dug out the composting toilet yet, it smells disgusting.  Guests are complaining.'  

'OK Val.'  Forget about the Valium, thought Dave, pulling on his Wellingtons.  And as for the composting toilet - the clue is in the name.  It's a composting toilet, therefore, it smells disgusting.  You wanted the bloody thing.  I tried to warn you but would you listen?  No.  Because you never listen. There was no point in trying to explain this to Val.  There was no point in trying to explain anything to Val.  

Later...in Dave and Val's cottage, over some goji berry tea...

'Dave I've got an idea I need to discuss with you.  Nettle flapjack?'  Val proffered a handwoven willow basket filled with lumpy brown-ish rectangles. 'They're three months old but they're totally fine if you dunk them.'

'No thanks Val.  I'm still full after the roadkill soup you made for lunch,'  said Dave warily.  He only got offered flapjacks if Val wanted him to do something.  And it was always something bad.

'That's OK, they were left over from a guest's welcome pack. Why do people never eat them? So ungrateful.  They probably expect Twixes or something.  Anyway,  what I wanted to tell you, I mean ask you...I mean tell you....or discuss or whatever...I'm converting one of the yurts into our own mini Switzerland Dave!  I'm getting a grant from the Scottish government, as long as I rewild the back field, fit solar panels and an air-sourced heat pump and ante up three grand.   It's going to be a holistic voluntary wellness self euthanasia care space.  Where people who fulfil certain important criteria can either indulge themselves by self-euthanasing via an injection of a holistic cocktail of lethal wellness drugs I carefully distill from locally eco-foraged fungi and toxic plants, or ingest it in the form of a pleasant herbal-style tea.  Which obviously would take longer to take effect but would be ideal for anyone with a needle phobia.  I might even throw in a Toblerone.'   

'What are the criteria?'

'Oh, they'd have to be over a certain age.  Let's say, 55?  Just plucking that out of the air but it sounds about right.  And, they'd have to pay a fee, obviously.  Half up front,  half on completion.  I'd take Paypal, cash, debit and credit cards but not Klarna.'

'You've clearly thought this through Val.  Leaving the legality of it aside for a minute - how would you - or we - dispose of the - how shall I put it - remains?'

'Bury them in the back field, Dave.  The one that I'm rewilding and planting up with yellow rattle and stuff.  Where they would compost down into the soil and become a useful part of the ecosystem instead of taking up space on an already overcrowded planet.  That's where you come in.  You've got a pick and a couple of decent shovels, haven't you?'

'And what if - heaven forbid - someone attempts but fails to 'complete'?'

'No worries at all, they have two options which they pre-select on the disclaimer form prior to arrival.  They're either left in a permanent coma-style vegetative state - mentally alert, yet physically completely paralysed, or vice versa, depending on the proportion of specially foraged herbs to fungi used in the solution - or, for an additional fee, finished off, let me put it that way.'

'Finished off?  How?'

'Dave you're fully capable of wielding one of my home made crocheted nettle fibre cushions over the vital area.'

'The vital area.  You mean the face don't you.  Good grief Val.  When we got married I knew you were a strong-minded woman but I didn't expect this.'

Next time - Val discloses that her mother is coming to stay for an indefinite period.  Dave perks up as he wonders if she might be the first candidate for the holistic voluntary wellness self euthanasia care space...

Geriatric Refuseniks

'How are we going to find the treasure if we can't get Dave to lend us his third eye?'

'Oh who knows.  Can we be bothered even looking - even if he does lend us it?  Frankly,  I'm not sure. We've got through life this far without having treasure and we're doing OK.  Bit of victimless thievery, bit of starvation now and then, threadbare clothes, no holidays and no fancy cars but hey.  We get by. The simple life is grand.  Let's say that if we haven't found it by the time winter comes - say,  mid-November, depending on weather - we should call it a day and just accept we had our chance and we blew it, we're old and we should stay home with our pipes and our slippers and just accept we did our bests in our lives and that's the fun part over, we've had a fair kick of the ball, no treasure for us and maybe we should book a trip to Switzerland and be done with it.'

'Bit negative Tuppy.'

'Mark my words.  Pretty soon once we reach a certain age - say, 60, perhaps 70 if we're very lucky - we're going to be offered an injection, which won't be compulsory, but, if we don't take it we won't be allowed nice things.  We'll probably have to live in an old person's compound, with all the other geriatric refuseniks, soiling ourselves and being given porridge and soup.'

'Let's just hope that Dave does lend us the eye then and that we do find the treasure by November...and if you can't be arsed, then I'll find it myself.' 

Dave considers monetising his third eye

 'I'm not deploying my third eye for shit!' snapped Dave. 'How dare you even ask me that.  It's for metaphysical purposes ONLY, plus seeing in the dark.  Which is great because I'll never need to use night vision goggles again.  It'll be much easier when I'm out setting the wildlife cam looking for pine martens and owls and stuff.'

'Burglars.  Rats.  Cockroaches.  You could start renting it out to paranoid property owners Dave.  It could be a side hustle,'  sniggered Geoffrey.

'Pervs,' suggested Tuppence.  'Doggers.  Not that I'd know anything about it but a third eye that can see in the dark would be fairly handy in those circumstances.  You could rent it out by the hour. Heh heh.'

Dave shook his head and strode off.  I'm not even going to bother explaining to these moronic twits that my third eye cannot be removed, therefore it cannot be rented out, he thought.  My services as the possessor of a third eye however are a different matter, and I suppose I could put an ad on Gumtree regarding charging a small fee for doing night security patrols round people's property.  Mind you, that would be pretty boring, and a bit of a waste of the eye, and besides don't paranoid property owners have dogs already?  A crazed XL bully would surely be a better bet.  And in any case, money's not everything and I'd far rather be by the river scouting for otters than giving people who don't appreciate the profundity of it, the benefit of my third eye in exchange for a few quid.  I'll think it over.  Oh and I definitely won't mention it to Val, because she'll one hundred per cent want me to do it.  Her nettle jams aren't selling well, what a surprise, and she's had some bad reviews on Tripadvisor about the cleanliness of the yurts so she's freaking out about losing business and maintaining income generation.  By which she means me getting a regular job, instead of just punting my otter vids on Youtube.  Luckily she doesn't even know about the eye yet.  Hopefully it'll stay that way.

No,  I think I already know, within myself, that commercialising the eye would be wrong.  I received it as a gift from the glittering eye in the sweat cottage, as a means of, or tool for, elevating my psyche if you like and developing my relationship with my higher, better, self.  I can't just rent it out for cash.  I feel that something bad would definitely happen if I did that.

Next time - Dave uses his third eye to try to resolve some stuff that's been buzzing around his brain...

Why are human beings so far apart, even if they're in the same room?  Can't we all get along?  Why does my heart hurt, and will it always be that way?  Why do I have to earn munny in order to live - why isn't everything free?  Why did humans invent munny anyway? Are globalists going to abolish it and make us all slaves?  Why on earth did I marry Val, and am I stuck with her forever...I'm hungry, I wish I had some sausages...even a Twix...