You know what’s hot? Hot is a man chained to a radiator. Not just one wrist cuffed to the pipe, but back against the metal, arms pulled outwards, so he has to strain and struggle to pull away from it.
Sitting there, able to kick his feet and look around and shout but not to get loose. Waking up that way, maybe. In the dark, on the cold hard floor. Waiting there. And then the sun comes up and the light comes in and he can at last look around and work out where he is and wonder what’s going on. Gradually getting chilled and frightened and stiff.
And then, oh blessed relief, the heating comes on. He warms up. His back muscles relax. He can start to doze off again against the nice warm metal.
Only it doesn’t stop. The radiator is getting gradually warmer and warmer and still nobody comes. He tries to pull away from the metal. He can only just manage it, pulling against his shoulders to keep from being burned. He sweats and strains and sometimes he leans back against the heat just to give his shoulders a rest.

I’ll be in my bunk.