KeeyaH!

with a quick snap kick to the groin, and a right fist to the sword handle, Magenta had him on the floor. Vlad rolled in foetal position, clutching his codpiece and screaming. The sword, knocked out of his hand, clattered onto the tiled bathroom floor. Magenta picked it up, and held it to the quivering Vlad's throat.

"Down!", she ordered.

Vlad's heart was beating, saliva racing, and the pain was shooting from his loins to the outermost points of the universe! He screamed - a high, wild, piercing sream that curdled the blood of a million London residents.

Charles Cholmondely, in the apartment below, rang the manager. He had had enough of the strange sounds coming from room 13, above him.

"I'm very sorry, Mr Cholmondely, we'll be right there."