Veterinarian Dr. Minerva-Aspasia Svetpavlovich’s impromptu plan had worked out far better than she could ever have imagined.  Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller was an exceptionally compliant hypnotic subject.  If the woman had not been such a bothersome braggart and bovine bully, Minerva-Aspasia would have seen to it that the latest person to experience the veterinarian’s powers of animal magnetism would have been first blissfully bathed and secondly soothingly swamped by stupifyingly stupendous tsunamis of stimulating, yet soporific, sensual satisfaction the likes of which the older woman could never have imagined even dreaming of.  The hypnoteuse locked all memories of Vandergeller’s time under the vet’s mesmeric influence deep in the befouled bowels of the boorish subject’s subconscious psyche.  Minerva-Aspasia then gave Gretcheneldagarth the suggestion that when the elderly self-proclaimed empress of the region awakened, she would feel more wonderful than she had ever felt.  “Now, I will count up from one to four.  When I say the number four, you will be fully conscious.  One, you will have no conscious memories of ever being mesmerized by me.  Two, after I have left your home, you will feel your feelings of love for your pets become even stronger than they have ever been.  You are becoming more and more conscious of the world around you.  Three, you will only remember that you were looking at your pendent suspended above my head while I was talking to you.  You will remember that you and I have both participated in a harmless, little, fun, and interesting game designed to induce very pleasurable and very deep relaxation.  Your senses are returning to their usual level of perceptiveness.  When I say the last number, you will be fully awake, fully conscious, and fully able to perceive and interact with your surroundings.  And now, the last number I shall say to you is, four.”

Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller slowly opened her eyes, languorously yawned, and stretched her body in a most catty manner.  Try as she might, she could not recall any previous moment(s) in her existence when she felt so alive.  She glanced over at the clock handcrafted by the artisans and timepiece smiths at Elite Horographics Incorporated.  Madame Vandergeller marveled at what time it was.  She had only intended to take a few moments to state her case to this patently provincial female excuse for a competent veterinarian.  Where had all this unaccounted for time gone?  Why did she feel so different and so wonderful?  Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller had not one clue.

The demonic, despicable, disreputable dowager–due to dual definitions–determined to deftly do a duo of desirable deeds.  First, decipher the origin of her recent experiencing of something similar to a rolling blackout.  Second, regaining and reasserting her preeminence over this mere, local vet.

“The last thing I remember is listening to you drone on about something inane while I was admiring, and you were just vacant headedly gawking up at, my chandelier.  With your plebian taste and upbringing you could not possibly know that it is one-of-a-kind.  Not that it matters much, but what were you banally babbling on about?”

Minerva-Aspasia had witnessed other unwitting hypnotic subjects employ versions of this tactic.  Her question was an attempt to ascertain her mental moorings and reestablish her emotional equilibrium.  None of the others had even come close to scratching the surface of Vandergeller’s vulgarly uncouth rudeness and classless, contemptuous contemptibility.  Dr. Svetpavlovich chose to ignore Gretcheneldagarth’s fault, just as the former had elected to overlook other shortcomings manifested by this aged has-been–who never had earned the right to be.  “Oh, I was only talking to you about things you can do to aid in your understanding of your pets.  I must say, your willingness to delve into this subject is virtually limitless.”

“Yes, indeed.  Nothing is more important to me than the animals I care for more than anything else, and love far more than anyone else for that matter.”

“Yes, you have made that fact abundantly clear.”  Minerva-Aspasia stood up, gathered her belongings, and ostensibly curtsied respectfully to her bitter better.  “You shall have my answer concerning the veterinary-related legal matter we discussed.”

“Very well,” Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller replied.  Her smugness, confidence, and condescension oozed from every pore in her haggard, haggish, hoggish mug like putrefying pus through a gangrenous wound’s stinking, scaly scab.

The old lady screeched an epithet-laden command to a nearby faithful servant to show Minerva-Aspasia to her car.  When the doctor was seated in her driver’s seat and before she closed and locked her car doors, the dapper servant asked if he might impose upon her for a moment of her time?  After she assented, their was a pleased and quizzical expression on his gentlemanly countenance.  He deferentially and genuinely bowed to her.  After tipping his chapeau, all he would say to her was, “Thank you, Mistress, Madame, Dr. Minerva-Aspasia Svetpavlovich.”  He heard her delightful and compelling voice say, “My dear Sir, you are most welcome.”  As she drove away, each person respectfully smiled at the other.  Then each one of them broadly and conspiratorially smiled to herself or himself respectively.

* * * * *

When doctors Barker and Svetpavlovich dined together, they usually partook of their meal and convivial conversation in one of the region’s upscale restaurants.  This time, Kenneth offered to cook for Minerva-Aspasia and serve her at her home.  “Well, well! at last I shall feast upon some of my mentor’s culinary dainties and gastronomic delights.  Why this quite unexpected and most welcome alteration of our usual routine?”

“I have something I wish to very privately discuss with you.”

“Will you give me a hint of an inkling concerning this serious and/or sensitive subject?”

“I would rather wait until I see you before I proffer any details.”

“Now you have aroused my feminine curiosity.  Fortunately for me, I’ve never heard it said that, “curiosity killed the cat’s physician.””

“And I seriously doubt it shall do so now.”

“As you wish.  I shall restrain myself and not pester you for any details.”

“Excellent!” the distinguished Dr. Barker responded.

The exceeding excellence of Kenneth’s actions by far and away and in every way surpassed his promises.  He did not merely cook for Minerva-Aspasia.  He prepared, brought to her home, and elegantly served a divinely, delicately, and delightfully delicious candlelit repast fit for an esthete epicurean gourmand.  The wine or liqueur concomitant with each course was as exquisite as the much complimented food the adult libation complemented.  The centerpiece he gave her consisted of some of her favorite flowers and ornamental plants arranged in a statuesque, ornately painted Belleek Parian china vase.  The music he selected was sophisticated enough to engross the listener, and so understated as to not interfere with any quiet, intimate conversation.

Once this most magnificent meal regrettably came to an end, Minerva-Aspasia elected to broach the subject about which Kenneth wished to speak to her.  “Now will you satisfy my insatiable curiosity?  Why did you want to talk to me in private?”

“In order to answer your query, there is something I need to show you.”

“What is it?” Svetpavlovich inquired.

Dr. Barker walked over to his one-time student’s entertainment center, turned on her big screen TV, and placed a disc in her DVD player.  Some moments of Minerva-Aspasia’s encounter with Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller were heard and seen.

The accomplished and attractive young lady looked at him quizzically, arched her eyebrows, and pointed at the image on the screen.  “How did you get that?”

“Several weeks after I talked to you about Vandergeller’s pending lawsuit against me, the plaintiff, inexplicably and with no explanation, dropped the proceedings.  I was quite curious and even more than a little suspicious.  I retained a private investigator, and the PI discovered the disc.  The detective gave me a copy of same.  I’ve watched the whole thing several times.  Now I have a question for you?”

“What is it, Kenneth?”

“Would you do that to me?”

“Do what to you?”  As her captivating countenance clearly conveyed, Svetpavlovich was thoroughly incredulous.  “You don’t mean?” she inquired hesitatingly.

“Yes, Hypnomistress, if that is the proper term, Minerva-Aspasia.  Would You transform me into Your puppy, or Your tomcat, or whichever animal You think best?”

The striking Hypnoteuse was immeasurably flabbergasted far beyond measure.  Never in Her wildest and most bizarre speculations would She even have come close to daring to imagine that Her mentor, veterinarian Kenneth Leroy Barker, would ever make such a request of Her.  Until now, She never would have dreamed he shared Her passion for this pleasure.

“I never would have guessed you were into things like this.”

“I am more surprised by this than You are.  Now that we’ve crossed over this threshold, I might as well go all the way.  Ever since You told me You were studying hypnosis in college, the idea of being mesmerized by You has always been intriguing to me.  Until I saw what You did to the one-time Vandergeller dilemma, I was never quite sure why being under the spell of Your hypnotic control appealed to me so much.  The more I watched that DVD, the more I thought about asking You to hypnotize me.  The more I thought about being hypnotized by You, the more I desired to be under Your spell.”

“There are scores of reputable and excellent erotic hypnotists available and some of them are dominant to various degrees and in a plethora of ways.  There are a number of very fine mesmeric professionals who are classically therapeutic.  There are some professional hypnotists who are in both categories.  Why do you specifically want Me! to hypnotize you?”

“The term for my fantasy is dupetophilia.  A dupetophile is someone who wants to be overpowered, to some degree, by a very intelligent person whom the dupetophile finds sensually stimulating.  A dupetress is a female who uses her superior intelligence to captivate, and perhaps to some extent control, someone who finds her physically attractive.”

Minerva-Aspasia Svetpavlovich was an exceptionally cultured and exceedingly intelligent Woman.  The operative word in that sentence is “woman.”  There were two queries She had yearned to pose to Her mentor for some time.  First, did he find Her attractive?  Second, which of Her physical characteristics especially had caught his fancy and was the subject of his fantasies?  If he truly desired to be sensually, and particularly mesmerically, submissive to Her, She had him in the perfect position to compel him to tell Her that which She wanted to know.  “So, do you think I am sexy?”  She clearly saw his hesitation manifested in his furtive and slightly agitated movements as well as in the depths of his now restless eyes.  She beckoned for him to come over and sit next to Her on the plush, velvet sofa.  After he complied, She reached out one of Her hands and relaxed his legs and un-relaxed his mind by lightly stroking each of his knees with Her sharp, short, yet beautiful nails.  “Now, now, now if you want Mistress Minerva-Aspasia to play with you, then you must be totally open with Her, and My bipedal, quadruped pet must never even seek to involuntarily hide any important information from Me.”

Sitting so very, very close to the sagacious Superior Womanliness of his dreams and daydreams enabled him to savour Her perfume’s delicate aroma.  As She utilized Her long, sensuous tongue to moisten Her full, crimson lips, they sparkled and glistened invitingly in the room’s subdued lighting.  Such sensuously seductive sensory stimuli did not make it easier for him to respond to Her question.  She had made Her request known.  He wanted to surrender to Her whims and be subordinated to Her will.  he did as She bade him.

“Mistress Minerva-Aspasia, i know You are extremely sexy.  Your eyes are so large, dark, and luminous.  Your legs are so long, so shapely, so muscular, and so supple.  Your bosoms are large and ripe and soft and firm looking.  And besides all that, You are so tall and stately and statuesque.”

Now She placed both Her hands in Her lap.  “Why have you not told Me any of these things before?”

“Mistress, while You were working for me, it would have been highly unprofessional and probably illegal for me to say such things to You.”

“Yes, I know.  I have not worked for you for some time.  Why did you not reveal your true feelings to Me before this evening?”

“Because of our relationship, Mistress.  Until now, our interactions have always been strictly Platonic.  If i had said these things to You before now, i had no way of anticipating how You would have responded.  You might have been very insulted.  So i said nothing.”

“I might also have been quite pleased.  I may very well have been attracted to you from the first time we met.  I could have found the idea of being your Dupetress rather stimulating.  It is conceivable that it could be a turn on to Me to captivate, constrain, compel, and control an accomplished man of means such as yourself with My incomparable intelligence, My coquettishly charming ways, and last but not least My fascinatingly feminine wiles.”

Now did She: gaze directly and deeply into his eyes; coyly bat Her long, thick, and lustrous eyelashes; and inscrutably laugh at his utter, impending helplessness and haplessness in the face of the potently pervasive and persuasive power of Her hypnotically-laced and mesmerically-charged full and feminine forcefulness.  She seemed to sense the emotions and thoughts She had conspicuously compelled to rise, roil, and rampage in his inner man’s heart and mind.  “So, is My pet afraid of Me?”

“Yes, Mistress Minerva-Aspasia.”

She ever so slowly stretched out to their entire length and ever so coquettishly crossed above the kneecap of Her bottom shapely stem Her long, lovely, luxurious legs.  “And yet, do you find Me fascinating?”  With one hand She started sensually stroking Her shapely stems.  With the other one She manipulated and tormentingly tantalized the inner area of one of his thighs.

It was necessary for him to swallow hard.  The increase in his respiratory rate was palpable.  Unsuccessful was this man’s attempt to not squirm in any wise.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“Is it the truth that your manhood is thoroughly and totally bewitched by My beauty?”

“Yes, my Mistress.”

“Is there a simmering stirring in your lust-filled loins, a tingling conflagration in your captivated crotch, an ever-increasing boiling in your bewitched balls, and a profoundly potent pulsating in your perplexingly passionate penis? That passionate penis which is periodically and perennially pixilated by My pervasive and persuasive pulchritude.  Is not that passion pumped into your penis at the prospect of becoming Mistress Minerva-Aspasia’s compliant and obedient pet of a puppy-man, puppy-boy, and puppy-slave?”

This veterinary puppy-slave respectfully and shamefacedly (It was bad enough that he felt such things.  Part of him was sure it was unimaginably unseemly for him to reveal such carnal goings-on to Her.  Another part of himself was even more certain that he should always and in all things obey Mistress Minerva-Aspasia.) lowered his eyes to the floor.  “Yes, yes! yes!!! Mistress, all You have said is truly what I feel.”

“All these things you feel are natural and right and are, of course, as it should be.”  Now the look on Her countenance was a mixture of satisfaction with just the barest hint of mild disapproval.  Lightly did She pinch Her doggie-man-toy.  “If you are to be My puppy-slave, however, what is the lesson you must now learn?”

“Mistress, i have no idea.  Only You possess the correct answer to this question, Mistress.”

“That answer is correct.  The lesson for you to learn is, “It is improper for you to assume you inherently and instinctually know which command I shall give you.””

“Mistress, Your puppy-boy is confused.”

Now She did present to him a sympathetic smile only slightly tinged with something sinister.  “That you are confused is good.  That you willingly, and without any direct and obvious prompting on My part, acknowledge your state of confusion is far better.  When you were admitting to your fleshly desires for Me, did you not look down at the floor?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Did I issue any command for you to look away from My eyes?”

“No You did not, Mistress.”

“Why then did you move the twin windows to your soul out of My field of vision?  Are you trying to hide something from Mistress Minerva-Aspasia?”

“No, Mistress.  Well, at least the majority of my being does not want to keep anything back from you.  i was embarrassed to admit to the accuracy of Your statement concerning what goes on in my body when i think about You, and especially when i fantasize about serving You.  To me, it was disrespectful for me to look You in YOUR eyes and say such sordid, sinful, salacious things to You.”  While he spake, he made absolutely sure his pupils never strayed from Her own.

Now did this wise, witty, Wiley, wicked, witching, winning, worshipful Woman intensify Her engaging and enervating gaze.  “So, your embarrassment compelled you to look away from My entrancing, inquisitive, investigative, and ensorceling eyes?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Are your desires which embarrassed you still extant?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Has there been any diminution in the strength of any of these desires?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Are you still embarrassed to talk to Me about your body’s desire and need for My physicality and My complete control?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She leaned close to him.  “Then tell Me why have you not looked away from My eyes this time?”

“Because You told me You did not want me to do that.”

“Mistress Minerva-Aspasia is pleased with My puppy’s progress in his long overdue education.  My stud-puppy-slave is apparently a quick study.  This pleases Mistress much.  For your obedience and your perspicaciousness, this shall be your reward.”  She slowly slid one of Her hands up Her thigh, and in the process hiked up Her flowing, form-fitting skirt.  Next did this hand ascend his leg and thigh which was nearest to Her.  The third action performed by this set of five fascinatingly feminine fingers was to tantalizingly toy, through his trousers, with the tip of his shaft.  Several results were concomitant with this maneuver.  Delicately did She drive his manipulated, (in two senses of the word) mesmerized manhood into an extended state of turgidity.  Definitely did this slinky Siren sensuously and sinisterly send his psyche to stay for some while in the realm of ecstatic pleasure.  Delightfully did She sensorially sense, cognitively comprehend, and emotionally immerse Herself in the full fortitude of femininity’s forcefulness.  This thrill that This tenacious, tempestuous Temptress experienced was due to the potency of the pleasurable power She so wisely wielded and the magnificence of the man o’er whom She held such sway.  All of these things combined within Her and consequently constrained Her to laugh with genuine, gregarious glee.

At length, each of them was settled into that person’s regular state of mind.  Immediately thereafter they engaged in a frank and lengthy discussion concerning the mutually acceptable parameters of the genre of hypnoerotic relationship for which each of them fervently sought.  A time was arranged for their first formal session of adult erotic, mesmeric play and his puppy training.  For neither of them could this date come soon enough.

Several days after Madame Vandergeller’s unprecedented and unexplainable experience during her meeting with Dr. Svetpavlovich, Gretcheneldagarth received an unsolicited package by post.  The parcel had the same address in the spaces designated for the recipient and its sender.  Both addresses consisted of individual letters written in different typefaces and apparently culled from various printed publications.  It contained three items.  One was a picture of a photocopier.  The second was a blank DVD.  The third was a Digital Video Disc containing some objectionable, abominable, disgustingly reprehensible, and unimaginable scenes.  Among the most lurid and horrid of these vignettes are the inexhaustibly insufferable incidents noted here:

1.  Gretcheneldagarth carrying out certain commands commonly conveyed to K9s.  Among the tricks she dutifully performed were: “Sit,” “Beg,” “Roll over,” “Play dead,” “Speak,” “Stay,” “Heel,” “Fetch,” “Come,” and “Shake hands.”  She also heard herself bark, growl, howl, pant, and whine.

2.  Vandergeller acting out certain feline mannerisms.  Some of the entries on this list were: chasing and playing with a ball of yarn; sharpening her claws, uh fingernails dammit, on a scratching post; predatorily stalking and staring at some of her prize birds; placing her posterior in a litter box; fixating on and reveling in the intoxicating effects of catnip; and toying with a rubber rodent and thereafter laying it at the feet of the accursed amazon responsible for Gretcheneldagarth’s shameful display of impropriety.  As if being forced to watch herself perform these actions wasn’t bad enough, Gretcheneldagarth also repeatedly listened to herself hiss, meow, purr, and yowl.

3.  Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller mimicking certain avian activities.  Some of these were: preening herself; chirping loudly and shaking her tail feathers to attract the attention of some suitors; and gazing transfixed, fearfully, and helplessly into the devouring depthlessness of the ensorceling eyes of some sensuously smooth-scaled, slowly slithering, sinister serpent.

4.  Madame Gretcheneldagarth manifesting some piscine proclivities.  The most notable of these was her imitation of a male (Betta splendens) antagonistically and aggressively responding to another of its sex and species.

5.  Madame Vandergeller enacting a few anguine instinctual actions.  Two of these were: sunning herself on a warm rock; and rubbing her bare body against the floor (or as she considered it, the ground) in an attempt to slough off and shed her supposedly scaly skin.

6.  Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller drinking, nay down on all fours and lapping in a doglike fashion, from one of her bidets.

The meaning of the blank DVD was crystal clear.  Whoever sent Gretcheneldagarth this package obviously knew what she had done.  There was no legitimate reason for Vandergeller to assume she had been given the sole copy of the disc.  That sinister, She-Hulk, She Devil bitch, Minerva-Aspasia Svetpavlovich, that quack Dr. Kenneth Leroy Barker, or whoever had sent her the package could do whatever that person deemed desirable with any other extant copies of the DVD.  The ramifications of this fact compellingly constrained her to run without delay first to her medicine chest, and, after the effects of those prescriptions wore off, to flee with equal speed to her liquor cabinet.  Now did Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller rue the date of the Internet’s birth.  Loud and long did she curse the computer’s creation.  Digital video cameras, small video recording devices, and machines capable of copying DVD’s were not her friends.

What were Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller’s options?  Obtaining the answer to this conundrum involved the expenditure of considerable cerebral effort.  When all was said and done, she came to the conclusion that she could take one of several courses of action.

Her first thought was that she could go on the offensive.  Her pride, humiliation, and lust to exact unspeakable vengeance unmercifully gnawed at her and inexorably goaded her to follow this road.  (She would later come to grudgingly realize that this path was only a road to ruinous ruination.)  There were several options from which she could choose.  Gretcheneldagarth could continue her litigation against Dr. Barker.  Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller could initiate legal proceedings against that Svetpavlovich witch.  (Gretcheneldagarth had absolutely no doubt that such a foul female just had to be some sort of fiendish hag.  How else could that country bumpkin of a second-rate, two-bit, hackneyed veterinarian have made Gretcheneldagarth do so many things Vandergeller had no desire to do?  She didn’t even look like most of the women in that town.  Vandergeller saw how men looked at her.  They acted like dogs experiencing being in heat for the first time.  That shameless floozy was nothing but a whore, a trollop, a Delilah, and a Jezebel.  Gretcheneldagarth had never had such an affect on any man at any time.  Vandergeller concluded she was much to prim and proper a respectable lady for anyone to ever have vulgarly carnal thoughts for her.  In the days of her husband’s ancient forebears, Minerva-Aspasia would have been hanged by the neck until dead, pressed to death, burned at the stake, subjected to the dunking stool, encased in the iron maiden, drawn and quartered, or hopefully slowly and excruciatingly tortured in some other deserved fashion.  “Ah! for the good old days,” Gretcheneldagarth ruminated ruefully.  Vandergeller derisively sniffed and issued a contemptuous, porcine snort when she remembered that name, Minerva-Aspasia Svetpavlovich.  She didn’t even have the right upbringing and good sense to have a proper good ol’ American name.)  Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller could engage in some kind of reprisal against Barker or Svetpavlovich or both which did not require usage of the court system.

Finding a veterinarian to be her appropriate expert witness was no more than a piddling trifle.  The contents of the accursed DVD, however, was a Herculean Gordian Knot.  Gretcheneldagarth’s social standing would be immeasurably injured and irreparably diminished if just one of her recorded actions came to light.  Though she possessed no incontrovertible evidence to underpin this conclusion, Mrs. Vandergeller was all but certain some, or all, of the DVD’s contents would be privately or publicly disseminated if her case went forward.  The revelation of her unseemly and unspeakable unconscious actions was an outcome to be avoided at all costs.

What legal recourse did Gretcheneldagarth have against Minerva-Aspasia?  Try as she might, she could not come up with any charge the proving of which would not cast Vandergeller in a bad light.  How could she maintain her reputation and acknowledge someone had stealthily breached, overpowered, and usurped her mental faculties?  Her inability to come up with an acceptable complaint was not an insurmountable obstacle.  If she made known her desire for such, the law firm she plutocratically retained and domineeringly dominated would attend to that minor, menial, meddlesome matter.  They would do so promptly and expertly.  They would certainly do so: if the firm’s senior partners recollected which side their daily bread was buttered on; and the identity of the upper crust individual who held the title deed to the largest loaf from which the barristers’ bread was sliced.

There was the DVD to consider.  It was like a boomerang holding a bad penny and thrown by the black cat that always came back.  In addition to the things she had been forced against her will to do, there was recorded evidence of Gretcheneldagarth’s attempt to force Minerva-Aspasia to proffer fallacious testimony.  Until now, Vandergeller hadn’t even remembered this now noisome gadfly in the ointment.  Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller solemnly concluded that even her high-powered attorneys lacked the means to save her skin on that score.  There was no reason for Vandergeller to believe that this willful, wicked witch woman would not wreak ruin upon Gretcheneldagarth’s reputation by using the disc to aid her cause.  Why would she not utilize this doomsday weapon of mass destruction at her disposal to defend her colleague?  If Barker possessed no qualms about defending himself by insidiously and insinuatingly threatening to unleash the DVD’s contents, was it beyond the pale of possibility for him to shield Svetpavlovich with this same strategy?

Gretcheneldagarth had surely shown, to one and all, her unflagging and unflinching desire and capacity to employ any necessary means to achieve any goal she sought.  More than a fair share of hapless human beings had harrowing tales to tell regarding the resultant repercussions of being on the business end of hideous haymakers hostilely and horribly hurled by Madame Vandergeller in insidiously insufferable and diabolically devious dastardly ways.  Gretcheneldagarth’s ability to pull strings and make others dance to her music of the spheres of her influence was one of her traits of which she was most proud.  If it had not been for the existence of that damnable, damned DVD, Dr. Kenneth Leroy Barker and that brainwashing behemoth, Minerva-Aspasia Svetpavlovich, would have firsthand knowledge of Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller’s considerable capability to cunningly convey conspicuous, chronic cruelty.

In Baroness Emma Magdalena Rosalia Maria Josefa Barbara (more commonly known as Emmuska) Orczy’s story, “The Scarlet Pimpernel” the seemingly foppish Sir Percy Blakeney recites a quatrain he composed about this stalwart, aristocratic English Crusader in opposition to the revolutionary French Republic’s Reign of Terror directed against members of France’s much-hated noble class.  According to Sir Blakeney’s rhyme, “We seek him here, we seek him there, Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven?–Is he in hell? That demmed, elusive Pimpernel”  What the Scarlet Pimpernel and his League were to tireless police inspector and agent of Robespierre, Citizen Chauvelin, in like manner was the contents of that DVD to Madame Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller.  It thwarted her every scheme, machination, and stratagem at every twist and turn.  (She had briefly considered denying its authenticity.  She realized this ploy had no possibility of achieving a successful outcome.  Gretcheneldagarth had gone to great pains to make her home, and virtually every thing housed therein, different from and superior to what was possessed by anyone else in the vicinity.  She had gone to even greater lengths to broadcast the fact that everything she had was more than a gross of cuts above the quality or heritage or both of its equivalent owned by any other individual(s).  Now was she inescapably incarcerated on the Devil’s Island of Alcatraz frightfully forged from her desire to stand apart and alone.)  Nothing she could do to either or both of these wretched, roguish rapscallions, in any arena or sphere, would compensate for the dreadful devastation any degree of public disclosure of the data residing on that DVD would do to her social standing.  Now the awfulness and pointlessness of a Pyrrhic victory were made quite plain to the brooding and vanquished Vandergeller.  The idea of Mutual Assured Destruction was undoubtedly and indelibly etched inside her consciousness.

A powerful desire’s delayed gratification can be the doorway to enhanced pleasure or the gateway to increased frustration.  That Madame Mrs. Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller could not satisfy her hunger and thirst for retaliation against Barker or Svetpavlovich fell in the latter category.  Attempting to not think about her disappointments only compelled her to devote more cogitation to them.  Whenever her musings turned to the twin gadflies tormenting her mind, the emotions concomitant with them assailed, agitated, and aggravated her hardened, haughty heart.  By itself this would have been sufficiently provocative.  There were two other items which upped the ante of her annoyance.  First, she had to throw herself on the mercy of a pair of pestilent, pestiferous pestilences and peons.  Second, that Svetpavlovich slime successfully employed the iron fist in the velvet glove gambit to sucker punch Gretcheneldagarth Vandergeller’s lights out.  So long as the DVD Sword of Damocles hung over her head, all Gretcheneldagarth could do is stew in her own juices concocted into a witches’ brew and evil elixir of anger, hatred, frustration, and fear.

—–  end of part 2  —–