"We don't have a key or a combination," said HL. "I think we should call Mr Potter." Good idea," I said. And did so.Mr Potter told me that as far as he knew it was in the library, because Lady Anne, we had now discovered that it was short for Angelica, had told him so. No, he didn't have a key or a combination. Odd.We sat there. I rang for Mrs Johnson. No, she had no idea, in fact she said, she didn't even know there was a safe. Strange.But she would bring us some tea. Not strange, just English.HL started to prowl about the room, whilst I sat looking at it. The room was largely panelled, with built in bookcases, I had already spotted some books that I knew to be worth a considerable sum. The fireplace on the chimney breast was somewhat off centre and the panelling slightly odd. There was a considerable amount of carving. One of the bosses on the fireplace might just have a slight amount of wear. I went to look at it. I tried to move it sideways, left then right. Nothing. I tried to. All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, 'no possible way!'What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side so as to say, 'Don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny lil ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it.I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and...HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION. WHAT THE... !!!I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found,.
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