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Where Farqhuar, Dr Barrett and countless other ethereal bureaucrats go about their business. Remains a place of mystery for most Moristounians, who are denied access to 90 per cent of the rooms. However, Buchan has heard from a well-placed source that the toilets are decorated with an opulence that would put an Abu Dhabi hotelier to shame. Ermine wallpaper, diamond encrusted bidets and an opera singer who belts out arias to disguise the pained groans of constipated depositors are among the alleged attractions.
Jimmy’s pride and joy is the most welcoming of Moristoun’s three watering holes, although the competition isn’t exactly stiff. Serves the cheapest pint on the island, which helps ensure the continued patronage of McTavish and a steady flow of fellow cheapskates, but the background music often leads to a sombre atmosphere as the pub boasts the most depressing jukebox in the world. Country music’s darkest ditties fill the air, although they are often drowned out by lively debate about Moristoun Athletic’s “tainted titles”. Thankfully, Brenda is usually on hand to halt these tiresome debates when she's not upstairs continuing Gail's education.
Moristoun’s cathedral of football, the scene of countless breathless derbies between United and Athletic. Very little in the way of expansive football has been witnessed since its gates first opened in 1877 but it has seen 98 broken legs, 605 red cards, 16 mass brawls and one attempted decapitation. Only a few thousand can cram into the ground but the atmosphere rivals that of the Bonbonera when Athletic and United clash on Inter Island Cup duty.
The most important place for a citizen of Moristoun, if they hope to depart its shores. Knowledge is power on this island. The Book holds the key to enlightenment and a brighter future but deciphering it isn't easy and first some groundwork needs to be put in at the Classical Language section.The Library is also Buchan’s sanctuary and he can often be found reclining in one of the vast leather armchairs, re-reading one of the classics or struggling with the references modern writers throw at him.
Abandon all hope ye who enter Moristoun’s roughest pub. It was a fearsome den of iniquity during William Hughes’ spell as a landlord, with cockfights and bare-knuckle boxing some of the more serene pursuits partaken by the patrons. Is slightly less dangerous these days under the new proprietor but still the kind of place best avoided if you wish to avoid a flying pint glass to the puss.
The crown jewel in Moristoun’s culinary scene, the lobster at McCauley’s is, quite literally, to die for. The ingredients of the special sauce remain a mystery, although they have nothing to do with Gerald the talking rook, and words simply can’t do justice to the finest dish you will ever consume. Everything else on the menu is also divine, although Sergeant McLeish would caution you against ordering a well-done steak.
The entertainment hub of a Moristoun, a place almost everyone flocks to every Friday for the morsels of culture thrown at them by The Council. Started life as an opera house before being converted into a cinema by the advance of moving images. The people of Moristoun never know what they will be treated to at the Rialto because The Council keep the playlist a secret until the curtain rises, adding further exctiment to each visit but also the occasional dollop of disappointment. Also boasts the classiest bar in Moristoun, a place Buchan retreats to when the only thing that can wash away his worries is a gin fizz.
Like most newsrooms, the home of the Moristoun Gazette is a pale shadow of its former self, although it’s purely down to a decline in journalistic standards and has nothing to do with the advance of technology, given the analogue nature of the island. Henderson can be found at the head of the back bench, dreaming up new ways to shoehorn more stories about his beloved Moristoun Athletic into the paper.
The first pub to open in Moristoun and the place where Moristoun United was born. The manager Hughie Simpson can still be found here, feeding his addiction, and although a few undesirables join him in drowning in a sea of alcohol it is still a far friendlier place to pop into for a pint than The Cliff. Just don’t expect the barman to acquiesce to requests for Jenga, wine or any food that extends beyond a humble pie and chips.
The domain of McCall, who can be found spinning discs and tall tales here whenever he is not propping up the bar at The Tortured Soul. He fronts the Breakfast Show, a three-hour penance of soft rock and attempted humour for those unfortunate enough to tune in, and is also Radio Moristoun’s ubiquitous sports reporter/sycophant. McCall is ably assisted by a long-suffering female colleague who has forcibly dismissed every attempt to woo her.
Buchan’s place of work is a place most Moristounians would do well to avoid as you only end up here if you are in deep trouble with The Council. Boasts the second largest collection of books on the island and doubles up as a reading room for Buchan whenever the library is shut. However, he rarely has time to read during working hours as a steady supply of Q99s are dropping into his inbox, helping to ensure that the esteemed Public Defender spends more and more of his time outside of Moristoun, seeking to put an end to the steady flow of incoming citizens.
Woe betide the poor punters who end up sampling Sergeant McLeish’s hospitality. Moristoun’s resident policeman rules his roost with a tyrannical zeal that would elicit approving nods from Genghis Khan, Stalin and Kim Jong-il. If you are unfortunate enough to end up in a cell at the police station then make sure you don’t engage in any form of dissent. Suffering in silence is the best course of action as the merest hint of protest is likely to result in a baton across the knuckles, accompanied by a string of expletives.