Vlad, meanwhile, was feeling a little tetchy. He was hanging out in Erskineville, checking out the scene, and waiting, waiting for Magenta to come home to his wide, welcoming







wings. He wandered up to newtown occasionally - liked to check out the Goths walking their ferrets on a lead, (ferrets could be handy at a party) and to pick up a new rubber codpiece, or a little mince, or something. Little did he know that Micca was close by, with Rhymin Simon, and that they were plotting, plotting his very doom.