Are you troubled by bad dreams in the night? Do you experience catchy tunes stuck inside your head for days at a time? Have you or a family member lost an important thought, memory or sensation that you’d like found?

If the answer to any of these is yes, then don’t wait another minute. Just pick up the phone and call the professionals – the Psychic Gardeners!

Like an upkept garden, your Headspace can become overgrown and cluttered without proper attention. Whether your mind garden needs reorganising, a lost memory flower found, an overgrown thought bush cut back, or an invasive Nightmare weed pulled out, the Gardeners are here to help. Get seen by an expert team of psychics with months of training today and put your mind at ease.

Psychic Gardeners: We’re ready to help you.

–Radio ad

Where were you when the Mindworms came?

I was manning the Sensory Array that day. Dom was supposed to be writing an essay on macroeconomics, and I was trying to keep him focused. I failed. My voice was unable to keep his hand from wandering, his fingers from opening a new tab. That’s when he saw it. That’s when we all saw it.

50% off ALL games on Vapour, this week only! Get it NOW!

Everything changed that day.

Dom did not heed my warning. He went deeper. Began looking up game reviews and watching playthroughs. Began asking his friends for recommendations. I tried to reason with him. Tried to point out he didn’t have the funds for even half price. That he would get bored of these games and never finish any of them. I thought it was working.

Then they came.

Flashing logos of game companies. Envy-green thumbs-ups. A looping gif of a sterling sign being slashed Dom had seen that day. Slowly at first, then quicker and quicker, the Mindworms came, until they were swarming through Dom’s mind like locusts. He could not focus on his essay. His mental machinery was being dyed eye-catching neon colours. I had been usurped from the Sensory Array until the only thing he could think about was the latest 4K graphics cards, whatever that meant.

I am not ashamed to admit, I despaired. I thought surely the Mindworms would break Dom’s fragile resolve and empty our treasury (Dom’s Santandaire account). I thought all hope was lost.

Then he appeared.

Like an avenging angel, he fell from the sky and plummeted to the ground, landing in a preposterously impractical stance, resting on one knee with one fist to the ground. He waited there for a moment, smouldering slightly, and in the radiant, kaleidoscopic light he dimly shone with, I witnessed him adorned head to toe in shimmering coins. No, not coins. Badges

Now others fell from the sky, but my eyes were only for this heavenly being. He stepped forward, and from his back stretched an enormous, multi-coloured cloak, decorated entirely with more badges, billowing dramatically, though there was no breeze. The Mindworms took one collective look at this hero, considered their chances, turned tail, and fled.

Far too slowly.

When this being moved, the very air of the Headspace seemed to part to allow him swifter passage. His body became a blur, the badges impenetrable golden armour.

It took him just minutes to end the infestation. When he was finished, he took his cloak in his hands, feeding the fabric through them for quite some time before he reached its end. Then, with but a slight narrowing of his eyes, I watched the fabric lengthen, and a new badge appear on its end: ‘Money Saving’.

Then he turned to me, me of all people, and approached. Heavenly trumpets heralded his approach, and I found myself transfixed by this stranger. For as long as I exist, I will never forget the words he spoke to me.

“Hi! What’s your name?”

I stammered a reply. “Th-The Voice of Reason.”

“Well ‘The Voice of Reason’, you won’t have to worry about Mindworms anymore.”

I asked our saviour how in Headspace we could ever repay him.

“No repayment necessary,” he intoned. “I don’t charge university students. We only ask that if you had a positive experience with us today, please let your friends and family know.”

I asked him what name I should possibly invoke to speak his praises.

“Tim Garden,” he answered heavenly, “of Psychic Gardeners!”

And so I tell you this tale now, to forever immortalise the deeds of the great Tim Garden, friend of budgets, vanquisher of vulture advertisement, forever welcome in this Headspace.

–Speech from The Voice of Reason to various assembled Entities, Dominic Sutra’s Plane of Consciousness.