Cold As Balls
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Cold As Balls
A Scientific Adventure of Professor Lovebody in the Twentieth Century, as assisted by his associates Jonathan Salarius and Miss Prudence McVenture
“I assume that you are familiar with the somewhat vulgar expression used when the temperature is low, namely that it is cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey,” said Professor Lovebody.
Miss McVenture frowned deeply, not taking her eyes off the strange apparatus in the middle of the room. It consisted of a bowl in the base, a frost-patterned middle section and on top a reddy-brown metal bust of a puzzled looking simian protruded. “I was given to understand that it was cold enough to freeze the moustache of a brass monkey.”
“No Miss, definitely balls,” said Jonathan Salarius, connecting an ice-rimmed hose. A gush of cold fog obscured the monkey. “Sounds like it got bowdlerised, not suitable for a young lady’s ears. O’course you’re grown now, a woman of the world…”
“Quite,” said Professor Lovebody before his assistants could explore this further. “With this apparatus we will be able to, for the first time, quantify the exact temperature that the phrase references, so enabling us to use it without either embarrassing the ears of those of sensitive dispositions, or using the confusing circumlocutions that Miss McVenture’s tutors appear to have used. So if you will pass me the thermometer…”
Miss McVenture reached for the thermometer, but as she turned Professor Lovebody managed to get too close to the apparatus. In an instant a spray of cryonic fluid reached out and wreathed him in fog and ice, pouring down from his waist, while a little touched his whiskers.
“Watch out!” cried Miss McVenture.
“’Old still,” warned Jonathan Salarius.
There was a shattering noise as Professor Lovebody’s frozen trousers broke into a thousand pieces. In shock he reached up to his face. There was a cracking noise.
“My moustache,” he wailed.
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