The life of a Brentwood wife, though envied by every lower class of female in the community, is incredibly demanding.  Mornings start early and evening go late.  There is a constant pressure to keep the house spotless and to maintain her appearance and desirability even as she bears and cares for as many children as her husband desires.  She must always have a proper attitude that is both cheerful and submissive.  The weak female mind and frail body being what they are, even the most willing women will find themselves breaking under the pressure.  Fortunately, the Brentwood Asylum exists to help when these 'rare' cases occur.

"Don't worry, Mr. Ramirez," the doctor said.  "Catherine has just had a little hiccup.  We have a variety of options to help see her through this.  We always start by placing the patient in our convalescence ward.  A week of complete restraint and sensory deprivation usually snaps them right out of it!"

"And what if that doesn't work?"  Mr. Ramirez asked.

"In those cases we usually move patients to the observation ward where we use positive and negative reinforcement round the clock.  Improvement almost always occurs at this stage, though it can take anywhere from one to six months."

"And if that doesn't work?"      

The doctor frowned.  "If she doesn't start to show improvement at the end of six months then we can discuss surgery options.  Though we have a hundred percent success rate once we've escalated to this stage, there are quite a few side effects..."

"Nonsense," Mr. Ramirez interrupted.  "If that's what she needs, that's what she needs.  Proceed the convalescence and we'll see what happens."  He looked down sternly at his trembling little wife, restrained safely in her wheel chair.  "I will expect you to do your best to get well."

"Y-yes, d-d-darling," she chirped before the orderlies wheeled her away down the corridor.