If I ever found myself employed as a state torturer, I would do away with the rack, the iron maiden, red-hot pokers and truth drugs. I have discovered the perfect instruments of cruelty that could reduce the most hardened man to a blubbering wreck. And, as far as I’m aware, these are not even covered by the Geneva convention.
For starters I would introduce paper cuts – thin little slices with the edge of a sheet of paper, right in to the soft side of the knuckles.
If that didn’t get a response I would move on to rapidly force-feeding the victim ice cream until he got a blinding headache just behind the eyes.
But if all else failed, I would bring in the most feared of all machines – the gas-powered, pneumatic toe-stubber.
(No prizes for guessing what happened to me this morning)