She could hear someone shouting.. and felt sucked towards that dark energy. The air was swirling around her, in a kaleidoscope of black leather, studs, swirling chiffon, coin belts and gulab jamens.. colours and symbols circling around her like a starry night.. She saw JennyO wrestling with what appeared to be an overripe, waxen skinned, red lipped, white fanged Elvis impersonator.. what late night horror show had she stepped into by accident? and that black cloak - was it a cloak, or huge dragonlike bat wings?

Magenta awoke out of her dream to the sound of someone chundering in the nearby garbage bin. She looked and saw that man, what was his name, Vladimir, bent over the bin, retching.

Jennyo was shouting - RUN ! for your life Magenta! get out of here! and suddenly, there was a shove, and she found herself on her side, a car door slamming, listening to the sound of JennyO and Simon shouting. she was inside that old white landrover, being tossed from side to side as the car screeched in and out of the backstreets of Erskineville......

"what happened?", she asked JennyO in a timid voice.

"It was that undead Transylvanian scumbag, Vladimir", said JennyO. "I called Simon on my mobile and then.."

"How did we escape?" bleated Magenta, exhaustedly.

"You were very lucky, Magenta", said Simon, "That walking corpse of an interdiluvian Elvis was just about to rip into your neck when he stepped in some leftover pizza, and was overcome by the smell of garlic. We left him having deep words with the garbage bin in King St".

It was all too much. Magenta lay back on the car seat, trembling and shivering with fear.......