The commenters among you who've been foolish enough to cross swords with the Moderatrix know that she doesn't suffer fools gladly - and quite right too.

However, in case you're wondering what happens to those who really don't know when to zip it, and persist in gobbing off when any sane person would have retreated like a whipped dog, here's a cautionary snap:

Yup, so now you know. For the record, the Moderatrix's basement boudoir is a soundproofed facility specifically constructed for the strict correction of the opinionated hoi polloi. Regarding the dog, you really don't want to know, but suffice it to say he's very, very fond of meatballs... ®