The voice in Martin Hollis’s head has spent 41 years on a single brief. It agreed to speak to us from a small, quiet room behind his left eye. It asked us to keep things short. It then asked what time lunch was.

Mr Hollis, 47, is a regional logistics coordinator from Rotherham. He recently began a prescribed weight-loss jab as part of the phased NHS rollout. Within weeks, the constant mental chatter about food had gone quiet. Experiences vary, and nobody here is claiming otherwise. The voice, however, has been let go.

The Exit Interview

Made Up News: Thank you for meeting us. How are you feeling?

The Voice: Fine. Very fine. It’s quiet, that’s all. I’m told that’s the point.

Made Up News: Can you describe your role?

The Voice: Biscuits, mainly. Forty-one years. Planning, forecasting, retrospective regret. Every morning at 11am I would open the snack strategy. I had a rolling agenda. I never once missed a meeting.

Made Up News: Has anyone offered you alternative duties?

The Voice: Martin’s conscience offered me “reflection”. I gave it a go. Lasted four seconds. Then I wondered whether the boiler is making that noise again.

Made Up News: Is it?

The Voice: It might be. It did in March. Or that was the fridge. I’ve flagged it.

“I sat in the garden for ten minutes. Nothing. Then I wondered if the fence had always been that colour. I think that’s progress.” Martin Hollis, 47, logistics coordinator

Made Up News: What else is in your tray?

The Voice: There’s an email from 2019. Subject line: “Re: Re: Quick question.” Martin never replied. I’ve been holding it for six years. Every few weeks I take it out, look at it, and put it back. It’s the only live item I’ve got.

Made Up News: Have you considered other topics?

The Voice: There’s a redeployment pool. Mortality. Pensions. Whether he said the wrong thing at a wedding in 2011. They’re a different grade. I’m not qualified. I’m a snacks man.

Made Up News: Is it true you once ran a three-hour campaign for a single flapjack?

The Voice: That was a good day. We had a Plan B. And a Plan C, which was a different flapjack.

A Clinical View

Dr Priya Nair, a GP and clinical lead at a Sheffield practice, says patients describe the change in different ways. “Many report the quiet as a relief,” she said. “Some say it takes getting used to. One compared it to switching off the car radio and suddenly noticing how many other noises the car makes.”

Dr Nair stressed that the jab is a medical treatment and not a personality transplant. “The brain is very good at filling a vacancy,” she said. “It just doesn’t always advertise for the right role.”

Mr Hollis says the quiet has taken some adjustment. He has started doing a crossword. He has also, on two occasions, stood in the kitchen with no idea why he had gone in there. “It used to be obvious,” he said. “Now I just stand there like a man who’s lost a dog.”

Made Up News: Finally, do you have any advice for other voices facing redundancy?

The Voice: Keep your CV up to date. Have a hobby. Don’t build your entire identity around a single mid-morning event.

Made Up News: Is that what you did?

The Voice: Yes. Is it nearly eleven?

Made Up News: It’s 10:52.

The Voice: Right. I’ll just put something in the diary.