Dr Board studied the phenomenon with increasing interest ‘It doesn’t look like it,’ he said. ‘Mind you we do make a point of stretching our students, eh Mayfield?’
But Dr Mayfield made no response. As Judy took on the configuration of an ostrich that had absentmindedly buried its head in a pail of cement he knew that the joint Honours degree was doomed.
‘I’d say this for Mrs Wilt,’ said Dr Board, ’she do hold on. No one could call her stiff-necked. Attenuated possibly. One begins to see what Modigliani was getting at.’
‘For God’s sake stop,’ yelled Dr Cox hysterically, ‘I think I’m going off my head.’
‘Which is more than can be said for Mrs Wilt.’ said Dr Board callously.
He was interrupted by another awful crack as Judy’s body finally gave up the struggle with the shaft. With a shower of clay it careered upwards to resume a closer relationship with the head and hung naked, pink and, now that the clothes and the concrete had been removed, remarkably lifelike at the end of the rope some twenty feet above the ground.
‘I must say,’ said Dr Board studying the vulva with relish, ‘I’ve never had much sympathy with necrophilia before but I do begin to see its attractions now. Of course it’s only of historical interest but in Elizabethan times it was one of the perks of an executioner…’
‘Board,’ screamed Dr Mayfield, ‘I’ve known some fucking swine in my time…’
Dr Board helped himself to some more coffee. ‘I believe the slang term for it is liking your meat cold.’
Underneath the crane Inspector Flint wiped the mud from his face and peered up at the awful abject swinging above him. He could see now that it was only a doll. He could also see why Wilt had wanted to bury the beastly thing.
‘Get it down. For God’s sake get it down,’ he bawled, as the press photographers circled round him. But the crane driver had lost his nerve. He shut his eyes, pulled the wrong lever and Judy began a further ascent.
‘Stop it, stop it, that’s fucking evidence,’ screamed the Inspector, but it was already too late. As the rope wound through the final pulley Judy followed. The concrete cap disintegrated, her head slid between the rollers and her body began to swell. Her legs were the first to be affected.
‘I’ve often wondered what elephantiasis looked like,’ said Dr Board. ‘Shelley had a phobia about it, I believe.’
Dr Cox certainly had. He was gibbering in a corner and the Vice-Principal was urging him to pull himself together.
‘An apt expression,’ observed Dr Board, above the gasps of horror as Judy, now clearly twelve months pregnant, continued her transformation. ‘Early Minoan, wouldn’t you say, Mayfield?’
But Dr Mayfield was past speech. He was staring dementedly at a rapidly expanding vagina some fourteen inches long and eight wide. There was a pop and the thing became a penis, an enormous penis that swelled and swelled. He was going mad. He knew he was.
‘Now that,’ said Dr Board, ‘takes some beating. I’ve heard about sex-change operations for men but…’
‘Beatings’ screamed Dr Mayfield, ‘Beating? You can stand there cold-bloodedly and talk about…’
There was a loud bang. Judy had come to the end of her tether. So had Dr Mayfield. The penis was the first thing to go. Dr Mayfield the second. As Judy deflated he hurled himself at Dr Board only to sink to the ground gibbering.
