Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me...

You're slipping, my spiteful little sprite. She has overcome her feelings of filial guilt and slumbers in the warmth of her marital bed.
So sorry Master. I will attend to it at once .... see, she wheezes and coughs and is driven from her bed in the early hours to escape her mate's stentorian snoring. She seeks solace on the sofa downstairs, wrapped in a nylon quilt.

Your plan has backfired, my poisonous little prankster. She finds comfort in the cosiness of the quilt and the cradling of the couch against her back. She may yet sleep.
Fear not Master, I have a plan. I shall wake the hound and fill it's mind with urgent need. She will have to rise to let it out and wait until it's return.

Very good, my little mischief maker. But she is now settling down again and I no longer hear wheezing like the breeze across a thousand rusty violin strings. You seem to be losing your touch. Perhaps I should find a less challenging subject for you, the fishmonger's cat, for example.
No Master, please, I beg you! Give me one more chance to prove myself.
Very well then, but I warn you, failure is not an option.

You will be so pleased with me Master. See how she sweats beneath the nylon quilt and rails against the torment of a thousand fire ants, see how she scratches until sore and applies unguents to no avail. She paces the floor, pale of face and bleary of eye. Soon it will be dawn!
You have done well, my malicious little mosquito. But tell me, what does she now?
She has taken an 'anti-histamine' tablet Master, and is making a cup of tea. See how wide awake she is!

Dim-witted demon! Incompetant imp! Does she cough or wheeze? Does she scratch or roam the house?
No Master.
And why do we not see these manifestations of my will?
She has turned on the computer Master.
And?
Concentration on blogging and the tablet beginning to work is taking her mind off her travails, Master. But she has had only moments of sleep in the last 3 hours! Be merciful Master - I shall try harder!

It is too late. She will soon be weary enough to sleep. You have failed miserably. Make your way to Billingsgate.
Master, please!
NOW!

(sigh) I suppose I shall have to see to this one myself. I'll let her dwell a while in a false sense of security until, in a few hours' time, she has to play the dutiful daughter again.

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