“The glassblower’s cat is bompstable,” according to Detective Inspector Charles Parker, not yet Chief, awakening from a luxurious but at first fiercely-denied nap in Lord Peter Wimsey’s London flat.

Perfectly ripping word, bompstable.

If that isn’t satisfactory, I’m very sorry but you’ll have to take it up with Dorothy L. Sayers, and I imagine her response time to inquiries will be even more unsatisfactory. All I can offer you otherwise are the words of the Beloved Tilde: “Never eat ice cream with a fork.”