I stripped rather nervously.
As instructed, I crawled naked into the machine. Eye patches stuck over my eyelids, I reached out blindly for the button and pressed "Start".
For a moment, everything was still. I held my breath and waited. And then, like a space age rocket machine, a loud and pleasant "Bing Bong" rang out around me, and all the lights in the machine came on. Through my blindfold, I could faintly make out bright purples and reds; a loud humming noise and faint, ominous cracking noises in the background. I couldn't help a nervous giggle. God help me, I thought, they must all think I'm nuts.
I waited. I began to feel a heavy warmth spreading over my body, over my skin, creeping into every nook, every curve of my limbs. A glowing heat tickled between my toes, lit up my face, gleamed on my shoulders. Slowly, slowly I began to relax and allow the heat to seep through all my aching muscles, still plagued with vague doubts and wondering if anyone had ever been caught in an explosion and killed in one of these infernal machines.
"What happens if I fall asleep? What do I do if I overheat and shrivel? What if someone .... "
"Bing Bong" said the machine pleasantly and shut down.
I sat up, peeled off my eye stickers and stared in the mirror. Yes, definitely more tanned.
Funny thing, though. I feel like I've just taken a trip in Zaphod Beeblebrox's Free Lunch Drive*, and returned as a piece of roast pork crackling.
* with thanks to Douglas Adams
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