Gone

After that comes a cube made of quetzal eggs set in gold-flecked acrylic (no expense spared here).

And if you’re still murmuring amongst yourselves, a clay bowl hand-crafted by Canadian deco-primitivists and filled with spiced snuff or ketamine, as you please, will be presented for ritual snorting – unless you just want to look at it.

Following the bowl ritual, you will be invited to recline for a special ceiling show (all we can tell you is that it will be accompanied by Goa Trance music broadcast cranially through special speakers in your formfitting headrests).

By the time the tiger moths and hummingbirds are released into the chamber (next on the bill), we will have left the Earth’s orbit. If you’ve elected to forego swallowing the gravity pill, you can take part in the holographic cherub hunt – but mind you don’t bruise your fellow prisoners!

At this point a viscous orange liquid (it doesn’t stain) will likely be pumped into the room, pint by pint, until it’s all gone.

Take as many pictures as you like. Feel free to speak candidly to those in hibernation – it won’t disturb them. Try out the suction pads! And if you’re going to be sick or have to tinkle ... well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But the best is still to come: after a shower in the centrifuge you can put on your pyjamas, enter the full-gravity den and curl up on one of the sofas with a book and a hot drink, candlelight and a loop-tape of Satie’s Trois Gymnopédies. And that will be the end of you.