Vlad made a scuffling grab for the scattering pearls...programmed response...as Magenta delivered a simply mind-numbing kick straight into the depths of his undead crotch. Chongo ripped open the violin case, extracting the tommy gub and its ammunition drum, which he snapped into place.

"No, Chongo," yelped JC, pushing the barrel to one side. Violence is not the way. Besides, there are noise bylaws in these buildings!"

Suddenly the lights went out.

All Chongo could see was the glowing red orbs of Vlad's goggling eyes, which were popping nearly out of his head. Chongo's finger hovered on the trigger...but where was Magenta? He couldn't afford to catch her in the crossfire. Vlad sprang for Chongo's throat and got hold of the Thompson instead. They wrestled frantically for control of the gun. The darkened room was now full of struggling, yelling people, all attempting to contribute their specific brand of expertise to the situation. Utter confusion, in other words.

Then the tommy gun went off with a stuttering roar, perforating the ceiling above as Vlad and Chongo both tried to wrench it from the other's grasp. "Now you've done it," said JC sadly. The man who looked like Johnny Cash muttered something about a ring of fire.

"This all comes of eating overly hot, spicy food with too much yang energy in it," complained Jennie G. "That is Sooo true," agreed JennyO. "It causes an overproduction of testosterone, which encourages aggressive behaviour."