Come on in.
The name sounds fancy, but we’re ordinary folks. This ol’ warehouse is home to us, the people that have no other home to goto. The street people, the poor, the lost, the unofficial.
See that chap over there, with the long white hair and the bright red kilt. That’s Doogal, and this is his place.
He lets us stay here until we move on, or find somewhere else to go. Some of us have been here for years an’ it’s a right little village.
Maggie over there makes sure food gets made and served. Roger organises a bit of teachin’ for the young uns. And that tall fella over there, with the red mohican ?? That’s Derek. Him and his lads make sure no-one messes with the House of Doogal. Then there’s Suzie who does all the fixin’ of machines. And LIsa who does all the fixin’ of people.
So grab some space and put your gear in a locker. Don’t you fret. No-one will touch any of your stuff. That’s one of the rules. Payment ?? Don’t worry your head about that. You’ll do something for the House, or you won’t. We can’t make you.
No-one really know why he started this place, but the most popular story you’ll hear is that when his teen daughter needed help, there wasn’t any. Now he has the House to help someone else’s daughter.
Have a wash. Grub’s up in 10 mins, and it’s time for you to meet everyone.