Professor Dorking had managed to strip down the wires which powered the electric door of his cell and was ready to create a rather lethal short circuit which would electrocute whoever was the first person to enter. He did not much care if it was those bloody interfering former pupils or the ridiculous little man who ran the asylum.
D’Spaire wasn’t even a real doctor, he had his PhD in Complementary Therapies which made Dorking’s blood boil and at night when the other inmates were asleep, D’Spaire would taunt him outside his cell with his crack pot ideas. But there was one thing that Dorking had to his advantage; D’Spaire was stark raving mad, with a pathological hatred of femme fatales and the upper classes. He had learned through his fellow inmate Lictor that the Schlepping girl now known as Gefiltre for some absurd reason, had become quite a vamp which was quite inevitable-either that or the madam of a brothel, and Bunty was of course one of the Gusset Tuff-Muffins, an ancient bunch of inbreeders.
It had not taken too much effort to enlist D’Spaire in his vengeful plan and wait-and wait, for years and years.
Also, the few accidents he had with the electrics had surprising effects; his hair was once again thick and luxurious, his eye brows black and bushy, and for the first time in many years, some feeling had come back below his waist.
“It can’t be!” said Bunty, “He’d be about a million years old!”
“Or dead!” hissed Lola.
“I was only thirty when I taught you two you horrible witches!” came a familiar bellow from the cell.
“That’s him!” they cried in unison. Mr Dorking wagged his tail happily and grunted.
“I read your book Professor, it was very angry-didn’t your mummy cuddle you enough?” asked Lola coquettishly.
“Now Miss Gefiltre!” chastened D’Spaire
“Don’t be stupid!” hissed Lola, “I’m using the key words!”
She winked at Bunty and nudged her in the ribs-this could be a jolly good wheeze!
“Yes,” said Bunty, “I bet she laughed at your little man and didn’t breast feed you long enough!”
There was a rumble in the cell like an earthquake and Dorking charged at the door; sparks flew from his wheels as he made contact and an enormous shudder ran through his frame. Fortunately for him the wheelchair acted as a Faraday cage and he was wearing rubber diapers so he only got a minor shock.
“Well at least that’s therapy for him” said Lola
After the threat of a riot had died down and Professor Dorking had been taken to the infirmary, Bunty and Lola made their excuses and headed back to the Daimler.
“That reminds me,” said Lola lighting a cigarette, “what happened to Gangee? I’m not used to driving myself.”
“Oh I sent him home to look after Gusset.” explained Bunty who realised that she had forgotten all about him as well.
“So then Lola, what’s the game?” asked Bunty, “What is this code?”
“I can’t tell you here Bunty,” said Lola mysteriously, “I believe that Mr Dorking has been bugged!”