Free Milrose Munce and the Den of Professional Help by Douglas Anthony Cooper

said Milrose fondly.
    “I wonder,” plotted Arabella, “whether, when Massimo Natica goes out to fetch our next meal, we might ambush him in some exciting way when he returns.”
    “I was thinking much the same thing. What I wouldn’t give for a nice chunk of potassium just now.”
    “That is an element in the periodic table?”
    “Yes. A personal favourite. Combined with water, it would do excellent things to this Massimo Natica. Rubidium’s even better stuff, but it’s been banned from the lab ever since Dave …” Milrose caught himself. He considered Arabella’s delicate sensibilities. “Uh, never mind.”
    Milrose Munce furrowed his brow, which set his brain in motion. What would Ms. Corduroy have come up with in this situation? She who was so adept at conjuring malevolent punishment? Certainly she would be smiling, with her patentedevil smile, and agreeably evil thoughts would be drifting into her happy mind. Milrose smiled a devilish smile, hoping that this might aid him in emulating Ms. Corduroy’s thought processes. It did. “Got it,” he announced.
    “Yes?” said Arabella, with the closest thing to excitement that she ever permitted herself.
    “We’ll stand on either side of the door. You’ll hold the cattle prod, and I’ll hold a straitjacket. When he enters, you know, bearing our cold gruel, you’ll zap him with the cattle prod; and while he’s twisting up in pain, I’ll put him in the straitjacket. Then we’ll prop him up against the wall, where the jacket is supposed to be hung, so as not to interrupt his precious historical display.”
    “Yes,” said Arabella, with the same approximation of excitement. “And I shall curtsy politely.”
    “Yes!” said Milrose Munce, who was always happy to express full and delighted excitement. “And I shall say something sarcastic.”
    “That will be a nice touch,” Arabella agreed.

CHAPTER
FIVE
    M ASSIMO N ATICA, UNSPEAKABLY WELL SHAVEN, OPENED THE DOOR AND ANNOUNCED THAT BREAKFAST WAS READY.
    This was a terrible disappointment. It meant that he had already left to fetch the meal, and was now fully returned, which would give them no opportunity to prepare their ambush. The battle would have to wait until lunchtime.
    “Something we have not yet addressed, and which clearly must be addressed over the course of our Professional engagement, is the matter of voices.”
    “What, you don’t like the way we talk?”
    “I mean the voices which you both apparently hear, even when nobody is speaking.”
    Milrose caught Arabella’s worried eye.
    “It has been reported to me by the staff of yourexalted school that you have both, on numerous occasions, been found discussing matters with the unpopulated air in front of you. Long one-sided conversations have been witnessed. And you, Milrose, have been seen laughing at jokes whose punchlines were not delivered.”
    “Can’t be helped, Massimo babe. Family trait. My great-grandmother used to deliver long nagging tirades at her needlepoint. And she would conspire with her brooches.”
    “Part of our process here is to cure you of your debilitating family traits.”
    “Sure, man. Cure away. I hate it when the compost sings to me. Highly distracting. Terrible voice, too. And really lousy taste in music.”
    “Tell me, Mr. Natica,” said Arabella with cool calculation. “Do
you
ever find yourself hearing voices from places where voices ought not to issue?”
    “Absolutely not! Which is why I confer Professional Help, rather than receiving it.”
    “Never heard even a little peep of unexpected chatter, guy?” asked Milrose.
    “I assure you, that is not in my nature. And were it, I should have to immediately resign my position and join you in this most effective therapy.” Massimo Natica laughed heartily at the absurdity of this scenario.
    “How do you propose that we silence thesevoices, Mr. Natica?” asked Arabella, with her very best insincerity.
    “Ah. Well, that will tax my Professional