‘Anyhow, anyway, all things considered, and more importantly, waxworks museums are deeply flawed,’ protested Woo.

‘How can you say that?’ retorted Dr Pratt.

‘They are clearly not traditional museums! Vart!’ fart-shouted Woo, suddenly overcome.

‘Please, Mr Woo,’ urged Cohen, ‘Calm down. Take a deep breath.’

‘Awgh!’ Dr Pratt groaned, with involuntary sympathy for Woo, as he and O’Singh instinctively pulled their collars over their noses.

‘And what do you consider to be a traditional museum?’ asked Dr Pratt, calmly, after a moment’s reflection.

‘Traditional museums contain a few Roman coins and an Egyptian mummy,’ replied Woo, sweetly, speaking directly to Cohen. ‘You see, sir, how the traditional is more enlightening than this para-usual, what should we say, “bunkum”?’

‘Preposterous!’ countered Dr Pratt. ‘For Mr Woo’s information, a museum is a collection of objects organised along a theme. The theme at Madame Tussauds is wax effigies.’

‘And what sort of collection do you think you would have if your so-called waxworks…’

‘What do you mean “so-called waxworks”? That’s what everybody calls them!’

‘What sort of molten, so-called (‘so-called Woo whispered behind his hand, so he could say it again without Dr Pratt noticing) waxworks collection do you think you would have if the museum existed in a hot, say a tropical country? That is what I had intended to say, had I not been so rudely interrupted by a… a subordinate.’

‘Subordinate? We are operating on a wholly different level to you Woo with our para-usualness.’

‘Pwaaaaaaaarp! Tradition dictates!’

‘Gentlemen, gentlemen!’ called Cohen. ‘This is no longer an argument.’

‘You’re right there. It’s chemical warfare,’ spluttered Dr Pratt, clutching his nose.