In some ways, I never left the Laundry Wars. I can still smell the killing fields now, fabric softener mingling with sweetly rotten blood. In the daylight you could hear the WUBBA WUBBA WUBBA of the washing machine, but from basecamp it seemed like a dream. But, in the night, in the quiet, the WUBBA WUBBA came from inside your own head - closer than reality ever could be.