Free Blown for Good Behind the Iron Curtain of Scientology by Marc Headley

the program. Then I realized he was probably in his office right this second, hard at work on this month’s centerfold.
    I started my next course, which was a compilation of short issues written by Hubbard in the 60s and 70s about how to do things the “Sea Org” way. It included the most mundane things such as how long to spend in the shower and always to wear sandals! There was an entire issue about the type of uniforms that would be worn by who and when, etc.
    After lunch, we had our normal muster with the entire EPF. Some person from the local Central Training Organization had come to tell us about a revision being made to the Estates Project Force courses. She told us that the different levels of training were being revised and The Keys to Competence Course was no longer a requirement to complete the Estates Project Force. That meant that anybody on the EPF that was in the middle of that course could finish the EPF right now!
    Of the 50 people on the EPF, there were about five on that course. Those five people were happy to be getting out of there. Me, I only had to finish the Basic Sea Org Member Course and I, too, would be able to get out of there.
    That night while cleaning in the galley, out of nowhere, about 50 people came running through and started scrubbing the floors with toothbrushes! It was like something out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Like a flock of black birds had swooped in and landed on the floor of the galley. They were all dressed in black t-shirts, black shorts and black socks with black boots. They looked similar to EPFers, but these people looked horrible. While EPFers mostly had a “newbie” look to them and were unhardened, these people had a withered look to them. None of the women had any make-up on. Most of the men had leather looking faces and thick hands with fingers that looked as though they had been doing construction work for decades. When they came in, a cloud of foul body odor came with them. It was almost enough to make me gag. It reeked worse than the galley itself.
    “Looks like someone screwed up bad!” one of my co-workers leaned over and told me as we watched the crowd scrub the grout on their hands and knees.
    “How can you tell?” I asked him—he said it as if it was some sort of ritual that the Rehabilitation Project Force frequently did, scrubbing floors with toothbrushes.
    He then proceeded to give me the lowdown on the Rehabilitation Project Force, or RPF. “Well, normally,” he explained, “the RPF do heavy construction or jobs that go on longer than the EPF could handle. They do drywall, electrical, plumbing, you name it. They also do the really super nasty jobs like clean out the trash compactors or manure the lawns. If someone really screwed up on the RPF, then the whole group of them get punished and are forced to do things like scrub tiles with toothbrushes.”
    It was not getting the tiles any cleaner, but it was a pain in the ass and humiliating. It was a lesson not to let anyone screw up. It was also a message to all Sea Org members who were not on the Rehabilitation Project Force: “Don’t end up on the RPF!”
    He then went on to tell me how they didn’t get a day off. They had to sleep in designated RPF barracks. They could be on the RPF for years or for decades in some cases. They had to run everywhere they went and if they screwed up really bad, they would be sent to the RPF’s RPF. That was a separate RPF within the Rehabilitation Project Force. The penalties and punishments were worse than they were within the normal RPF and one had to get through a certain number of steps of punishment to get out of the RPF’s RPF and be on the normal RPF again. I vowed right then, I would never do the Rehabilitation Project Force no matter what happened to me.
    It was my fifth day on the Estates Project Force, and I was done. It was a Wednesday and when we were done studying for the day, I only had a few hours left and I could finish my course. So instead