The Repressives Challenge the Utilities

Our couple take a stance against modern utilities.
Make sure you read their introductory story, below, first!
Also, I apologize for the paragraph spacing, but the two Repressives story's are bugged, and I can't get them to have normal spacing. It occurs to me I may have to learn HTML to fix it. NOOOoooooooo!

The Repressives Challenge The Utilities

"Good evening Clod," commented Prissensia, her eyes focused on her hands as her dexterous fingers wove the intricate dance that was knitting. She was making candle-cozys for their many solid-brass candlesticks.

Clod waggled his mustachio as a pleasant response. The evening post was carefully laid out next to his recliner, and he collapsed into it, letting the fireplace warm him.

"Indeed, my good lady-wife," replied Clod. "And how are you, this fine evening? Is your consumption treating you well?"

"Oh, excellently, my dear husband. I've stained three handkerchiefs already today. I'll have to make some more to keep up."

"Charming, charming," replied Clod. "Let's see what's in the paper today. Mmm. yes. Interesting. It looks like the Higgins's blew themselves up today. Another gas lighting incident. It seems Biffy Higgins was trying to heat the boiler and his beagle terrier mistook his coat-tails for a chew-toy. The dog bit his butt, and he knocked the boiler over, and the whole thing exploded!"

"Oh dear," said Prissy, looking at her pattern.

"Yes. Almost as terrible as the Winston's incinerating their three-story last Wednesday when their cat's velvet coat caught fire, or the Brigands's town-house exploding the week before when their parakeet flew right into the gas oven and then detonated. That one took out a whole city block."

"Shocking," replied Prissy as she assessed how much yarn she had left. "I"m so glad we don't have gas or pets," she said thoughtfully. "Modern conveniences are such a burden."

"Well, exactly." Clod flipped the pages

"I do wish those Reprehensibles would blow themselves up, though. This is the third time Chastity Reprehensible has invited me to tea, and not had smelling salts on hand when I needed to revive from fainting. They are the social pariahs of our block," said Prissy, frowning slightly.

"All in good time, dear. All in good time. Speaking of which, it's time to make toilet." Clod set his paper down, and got up and walked over to the corner. Micturation was soon in progress.

"Clod, that's the spittoon. The chamber pot is in the kitchen."

"Oh, yes. I keep forgetting. Is it free? Or are there still dishes to be washed?"